The Beginning of the End

In the late afternoon, I felt the baby twist hard. My eyes flew open with surprise and I gasped as a sharp pain hit me and water ran down the inside of my leg. I cleaned myself up a bit, and then went to lie in the bed. When my husband came in from the shop, he called my name. I couldn’t answer him at first, as I was struggling through the pains. I could hear the panic rise in his voice as he called my name again and he was suddenly framed in the doorway with fear in his eyes.

“I’ll be right back!” he shouted, as he sprinted to get the village midwife and any other woman who could be of service. They arrived shortly, and the women shoved my husband out the front door and told him to go have some ale. The women took over the situation, scurrying around the main room, boiling water. They cooed at me, mopped my brow, and encouraged me.

As the pains grew closer and closer, I felt a deep tearing, and blood gushed from me. The women’s smiling faces grew very serious, and I knew I was in trouble. All I could think of was saving the child. “Get her out! Get her out!” I screamed. I could feel my energy seeping away from me and I found that I didn’t care. I only regretted that I wouldn’t see my daughter or my father again.

I started to feel very cold, shaky, and tired. I kept closing my eyes, while the women yelled at me to stay awake and push. I heard one of them say, “Go find her husband. He needs to be here.” I didn’t care. I continued to slip away. I heard my husband trying to call me back. I heard my baby’s first cries. And then felt the blackness envelope me.

That was the end of my old life and the beginning of something new.