July 18, 1875

The sun is beginning its slow dip behind the hills, and soon I’ll strike the match and bring in Shabbat. The table is laid, the children are bathed (well, clean-ish), I thought to take a couple minutes to write about this week.

We were finally able to get a doctor to come out here. What made it all the more surprising was that it was a lady doctor—and not just a medicine woman, but a truly trained physician.

A rider came up to the house on Monday with a short note, clearly written in haste:

Hello Mr. and Mrs. Pinkerton, my name is Kani. I am an apprentice of Dr. Ella Green Ware. We serve the community of Stockdale, Texas. I have been sent to care for your children and should arrive just before sunset. Please forgive me for my late arrival, as the carriage wheel needed to be mended.

While we waited for the stage to come in, I fetched the map of Texas, since I hadn’t heard of Stockdale before. It turns out it’s a small community southeast of San Antonio. I can understand why a doctor from Galveston or farther east might not want to make the journey out this far. I’m just grateful someone was willing to face the dust and distance to come to the Valley.

Before I headed down to meet the stage, I told the boys they had best be on their very best behavior. That poor woman had been jostled about in a coach for near ten days, and the last thing she needed was wild young ones underfoot. The boys don’t remember the long journey from Colorado, but I surely do. All that time on the trail can wear you down to the bone.

I made my way down to the stage stop and the clerk’s office, which also serves as the post house right beside the hotel. I was fortunate to arrive not long after the stage pulled in. Dr. Kani was already there—steady as a rock and looking as though she could weather any storm. She’d taken the hardships of the road as if they were just another week’s work.

As I showed her the hotel and the little clinic Brigs had helped set up in town, she told me about Dr. Ella Green Ware, who had trained her, and how Dr. Ware herself had studied under Dr. Margaret Holland—the first woman doctor in all of Texas. I’ll have to remember to tell the girls these stories, so they’ll grow up knowing that their horizons stretch just as wide as their brothers’.

While Dr. Kani got settled at the clinic, I rode back up to the house to leave Brigs a note and gather the children. I’d just begun writing when Brigs walked in, looking worn to the edges. He’d left Sunday morning to round up some cattle that had wandered off the grazing land, and this was the first I’d seen of him since. One look and I knew he wasn’t fit to go anywhere but to bed, so I sent him off to rest and took the children myself.

Getting everyone to town is always a bit of a trick. I can put the babies in the carriage, but the boys want to chase every jackrabbit and roadrunner that darts by. With a promise of stopping at the General Store for sweets, we made it back to the clinic within the hour, and truth be told, I was impressed they behaved as well as they did.

When all seven of us came through the clinic door, the first thing Dr. Kani said was, “Wow.” I suppose I’ve grown so used to having all of them around me that I forget what a sight we must be.

She looked at the boys first—Xavier, then Joseph, then Jadon. All three were in fine health, though she said Jadon was showing the start of an ear infection. That doesn’t surprise me in the least; that boy can’t stay out of the river whenever we go fishing. She recommended a couple drops of castor oil in each ear, twice a day for several days, to keep it from setting in deeper. (Jadon ran around the ranch like he’d been lit on fire the first day we did that.)

Next she saw the twins. Both Gracie and David are thriving, and she said they’re right on track. She noticed their teeth coming in—though I could’ve told her that from the way they gnaw on everything during feeding. I asked her when I should separate them at night. She said that around their first birthday, I should move David in with the older boys. I imagine that’s going to take some getting used to—they always sleep close, touching if not outright hugging.

Dr. Kani also gave me a bit of good advice about diaper rash, which can be a bother out here. In addition to the corn starch that Jazmine told me about, she suggested putting a thin smear of raw honey on the skin, then dusting it with corn starch. I’ll remember that as we head into the heat of August.

And she had another clever suggestion—this one for teething. She told me to tie up a small handful of rice in a scrap of cloth for the babies to chew on. Since I always have bits of fabric leftover from my sewing, and there’s wild rice growing near the spring, I should have no trouble putting that together.

I had her see Ember last, as she’s the one I’ve been most worried over. As I told the doctor, Ember is bright as a button, but at fifteen months she still isn’t crawling, and she seems a touch behind where the boys were at that age. After a careful examination, Dr. Kani said Ember’s health is near perfect, but that she may be a little slow in her progress. She didn’t think there was any real cause for worry, so long as we start working with her now.

She told me to set aside special time each day to play with her—little games and things to encourage her mind and movement. She showed me how to watch if her hearing or sight might be part of the trouble, and said to put a toy just out of reach, to coax her into crawling. It all made good sense.

Every time I bring up my worries to Brigs, he puts on that patient voice of his and says, “Babies all develop differently.” And I know he’s right, most likely. But still, there’s that part of me that wonders if something might truly be wrong. I’ll play with her, though—and with the twins too, so it all seems natural. Gd knows the last thing I want is for Ember to grow up thinking she’s lacking in any way.

By the end of the visit the boys were all but climbing the walls. That had to be the longest stretch they’d been indoors and awake in quite some time. We walked with Dr. Kani back toward the hotel. She said she would stay until the next stage came through, and then she’d be heading back eastward. The boys tore off toward the ranch like a pack of wild goats. Once home, I fetched the honey candy I’d made and gave each of them a piece.

As I play with the babies I think of all the small things we do as mothers, lighting the way forward one candle, one kiss, one game on the floor at a time. Gd willing, that light will be enough.

And as I light the candles tonight I will add Dr Kani to the prayers I say for the children, and for Brigs. A woman who came all that way to help us—a woman forging her way where few women walk. 

Shabbat shalom.