Trigger Warning: Child Loss
I woke up with cramping.
I sat up straight in bed and wiped the hair from my face. A coating of sweat sits there and down my chest. I felt dirty. Pushing back the fur covering me, I stand up and look down and see a small stain. My monthly must have come earlier than I expected, and I can't help but feel anxious. Flint became made saying that I ruined the gifts we had so graciously received. I told him I would clean the blood as best as I could, but he wasn't having it. I didn't need him angry again. Our relationship is already tense as it is.
Flint had left early this morning with Sol and a couple of other hunters. They were going to train the young men who recently came of age and assigned the role of hunters for the village. Some of our hunters were close to becoming Elders, so it's a good thing more people were assigned to help. I knew they would be gone until the sun set, giving me ample time to clean the house and then go meet up with the other women having their monthly bleeding. Flint would never know I had bled anywhere.
I move about our home, bringing the soiled fabric with me out our back door. The wash basket remained close by, and I hid them lower in it so nobody would see. Some people still believe it was bad luck to see a women's monthly blood. It was better this way. Running back into the house, I hurriedly change my clothes and grab the knapsack I needed to bring with me. I threw it over my shoulder and remade the bed hoping nothing was amiss. Going back through our house, I stop and grab my waterskin and some lavender to throw in the laundry water. Satisfied I have everything I need; I head out of the back door and secure the house for Flint's return.
Laying the lavender and waterskin on top of the clothes, I grab both handles of the wash basket and begin heading to the creek. I pass by a couple of villagers and exchange hellos but otherwise remain quiet. Some of the women were unhappy that I received both male and woman roles and ignored me completely. On the days I help to prepare meals, we do so in silence with the women sneaking glances at me every now and then. It was honestly so stupid, but I carried on. I rather get my work done in peace versus being ridiculed while I'm in the room.
"Welcome Sister Wren! We were wondering when you'd be joining us!" Sister Clove calls out as I get closer to the creek bed. I give her a smile. In the few months since Flint and I have been married, I've gotten closer to her.
"What took you so long?" asked Sister Fern. She was sitting on a woven stool by the riverbed, wringing water out of her clothes.
I place my basket down in between them and begin to unload the dirty clothes into the water. "My monthly started today. I had to clean up before leaving so Flint wouldn't come home and see that." I'm sure he'll be frustrated anyway though. I wasn't with child yet.
"Well then I guess you'll keep me company then," Sister Clove laughs out. "Mine had started yesterday, and the women in the den are not good fun I tell you. Nobody wants to talk to each other in there."
"That's because everyone's cranky." I can't help but laugh at the straight face Sister Wren makes when she says that. She looks over at me and smacks my arm playfully. "What? It's true! We all get moody during that time."
"Oh I know, but you said it so matter of factly. It was quite funny."
"Yea, yea. Laugh it up. You'll be singing a different tune next time I join you two."
"Speaking of that, when was the last time you joined us at the den?" I stop washing my clothes and look up at the two of them. Sister Fern looks deep in thought as she continues to scrub with Sister Clove peering over my shoulder at her.
"Two moon cycles ago I think," she says, finally stopping her washing and looking up at us. Her eyebrows were high in her hairline. "I think I might be with child."
"That's a good thing, right?" Sister Clove questions, trying to gauge our reactions.
"Of course it is," she responds quietly.
"Look, we can help lighten your load so you can take it easy," I say, taking her hands in mine. "You are not going to do this alone anymore. We'll be here to help you welcome this child." Sister Fern must have understood her worry and squishes us all together in a hug.
"Thank you," she whispers. "I just can't help but think of what can go wrong."
"Don't think like that; it'll only increase your worry," Sister Clove says. "Come now, let's take your mind off of that. We can finish up the washing and go hang it up to dry."
We resume our work in a comfortable silence. They had started before me and finished quicker but stayed behind to help me. My cramps had started to become stronger, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I continue on, trying to not think about them, and soon enough we finish my laundry. By my estimate, it was almost midday, which is perfect. It was the best time to hang up the wet laundry to dry. I stand up and turn to my side to help sister Fern stand up. She grabs her stool, but I stop her before she picks up her laundry basket. She tries to pull it out of my grasp, but I keep stepping out of her reach. They know I can carry both laundry basket, with no trouble. I'm used to carrying dead animals every day. She's just being stubborn.
Sister Clove leads out little group back towards the village and to the drying lines. We carry our laundry, out trail lined with the water dripping from them. Other women were already there either hanging up their laundry or taking it down. There are other groups like ours, talking amongst each other, but most remain silent. I don't understand why most of the women do not speak with each other. When it comes to hunting, I can understand the need for silence but not for such simple day to day tasks as this. It was bound to make anyone go mad.
"I still don't understand why nobody wants to talk to each other," I finally say. I've been wanting to ask that question for three moon cycles now.
"This is just how it's always been," Sister Clove says with a shrug. "People rather get their work done than make friends."
"I think it's from our mothers' generation. I'm sure once more of our generation starts working it'll be different.
"If you say so, but I can't imagine doing the same thing day in and out without speaking to anyone. Even when hunting everyone talks at the end of the day as we head in."
"It is what it is."
"That's the response for anything," I mutter to myself, rolling my eyes. I'm tired of being told the same thing over and over. Don't know why I expect anything different.
A crash makes all of us turn our heads towards the sound. Baskets were knocked over, and a child was covered with the wet clothing. He stands up and struggles to get the wet clothes off himself and a woman walks over to help him out.
"Atwood, what are you going here?" the woman scolds after getting the clothing off him. "You should be home with your mother. You're also disrupting our work!"
"I came to get help," he says, holding up his hands. "Mother said I had to come get women to help."
"Has the baby decided to come early then?" the same woman asks. The child sputters on his words, and she shakes his shoulders. "Answer me boy!"
"Yes! Yes! She needs help now!"
"Run back now. Tell her help will be there. And be careful not to bump into anything!" The child takes off running, quickly disappearing from sight. "Is anybody free enough of duties to come help?"
"I'm not needed till dinner," Sister Fern says, stepping forward and grabbing Sister Clove and my hands. "Neither are they if you need all hands on deck."
"We might need them," she says, gesturing for us to follow her. "Atwood is my nephew and the only surviving child of my sister, Faun." We pick up the pace as she breaks out into a sprint. "Her births are always extremely hard on her, and we've almost lost her last time. The baby got stock and couldn't breathe. Having more help this time should hopefully prevent that."
"Why are we running though? Doesn't labor normally take hours?" I ask.
"Knowing my sister, she will have waited until the last minute to send for help. And this is her sixth labor, so I would think it progresses faster now." The woman stops talking and finally slows down as we come to a house with the door wide open. We take a moment to catch our breath, more so Sister Fern, before stepping inside.
We go to step inside, but I pause as I hear screams coming from within. I'm ushered inside and see two women. One is quite obviously the frantic woman's sister, and the other I think may be her mother. The older woman is dabbing a wet towel on the other woman's forehead and holding onto her hand. "Thank you for getting here so quickly."
"I told you I got help coming," Atwood said, bouncing on his feet.
"Atwood, you don't need to stay inside anymore. You can go outside," the older woman says, trying to shoo him out.
"But I want to stay with Mother!"
"You can't be in here Atwood. The baby is coming."
Sister Fern bends down to his level. "How about I sit outside with you to keep you company?" He nods his head vigorously and takes her hand.
"Thank you so much," the woman whispers to her going over next to her sister. "How far apart are the pains?"
Her sister lets out a grunt. "They come on quickly now."
"Right then." She turns to look at Sister Clove and me. "I need both of you to each hold one of her legs up, so I can check if I can see baby's head. Mother get behind Sister to help hold her up." We get into he positions she directed us to, and she pulls up her sister's dress. I grimace as I hold her leg up, my cramping becoming more intense now. I groan out in pain, but it's covered up by the sister groaning out as well. "I can feel baby's head."
"You're nearly there," her mother says softly.
The woman breaks out into sobs, startling us all. "I don't want this baby to die," she sobs out shaking. We sit in stunned silence, not knowing what to say. I can't imagine all she's been through and can't pretend I understand her tears. She continues to cry and grunt in pain. "I can't do it. I can't do this anymore," she wails.
"Honey, don't say that! You are brining new life into this world; you should be thankful," her mother scolds, but I can see in her face that this doesn't ease her mind.
I grab her free hand and look into her eyes. "Look, I know we don't know each other, so I'm not gonna pretend I understand your fears. But you'll get through this. I don't know why these things happen, but we can't change fate. We also can't go back and change what has happened; it's done. You are allowed to feel saddened and mourn your losses, but do not let that sadness grow into fear. All this is doing is making yourself afraid to want something. Whatever happens today has already been set in stone. It must pass as intended." Tears still fall down her face, but her breathing is not as erratic as before.
"Thank you for your kind words." She squeezes my hand tightly as another labor pain passes through her. She opens her eyes and looks at her sister. "I think I'm ready to push."
"That's my girl. Let's meet this baby shall we? I bet they're eager to be born. Go on and push when the next wave of pain hits."
The sister screams out in pain, hunching forward with her face red and sweaty. Her grip on my hand loosens as she reaches forward to grasp her legs. Sister Clove and I keep her legs up, and her Mother presses up against her back. I can feel my blood start to go down my legs, but I can't tend to my monthly right now. That can wait till after the baby has come. I can clean up any mess I make after.
Her groans of agony continue around us as her sister coaches her on. I can only hope Sister Fern has a good grip on the boy so that he doesn't run in and see this. Seeing his mother this way would surely upset him. I could tell the woman was getting tired. She wasn't pushing for as long anymore, and we all had to hold her upright.
"I can see the head now. Just push for a little longer Sister!"
"You've got this," I say, giving her leg a squeeze.
Our encouraging words give her that final push she needs. She takes a deep breath and begins to push again. Sister Clove leans over to look at her lower half and smiles. "The head is born friend. You're doing great!" She begins to tremble from exhaustion. I knew labor was tiresome, but I also knew that she had to keep going, especially since she was so close.
She lets out a sigh of relief as the baby finally slides out. We congratulate her and her sister ties a string around the umbilical cord. Her mother wipes her face and neck clean of sweat and kisses her forehead. But worry is thick as the baby has yet to cry out. Fresh tears rolled down her face. Her sister rubs the baby with fur to warm their little body. I hold my breath.
A wail finally pushes through the child's small lungs. The woman lets out happy tears and reaches for her child as we let out our collective breath.
"You have a daughter," the woman says, handing the child to her sister. "She's a big one there Sister. You've done well."
Sister Clove and I stand up to stretch out legs. I look down and see a lot more blood than I anticipated. "Do you have something I can use to clean up? I've started my monthly today and have made a bit of a mess."
"Of course dear, let me get you some linen strips," the mother says, standing up, but stops short. She looks down drawing the rest of the women's attention. I feel a little embarrassed, but it's natural.
"Sister Wren," Sister Clove starts off, but falters. Her face is pale.
"I think you need to sit back down," the woman says, moving over to take hold of my arm. Her mother quickly moves, rummaging around.
"Why? I'll only make more of a mess." Her mother hands some cloth to Sister Clove, who begins to clean my blood. She comes over to me and takes my hand.
"This isn't your monthly dear," she says, bending down to reach my eye level. "You are losing a child."
"What?"
"It would be too early for you to know child, but you were with child. Did you not feel pain today?"
"I just thought it was more severe cramps."
"She would've have known. This would have been her first pregnancy," Sister Clove says, still cleaning. "Her brother's wife is only just now with child, so she's never experienced this."
"What do I do?" I ask, feeling overwhelmed.
"We must wait for it to fully come away," the woman says, squeezing my shoulders. "This may last a few hours longer."
"You can stay here, and we'll keep an eye on you to make sure you won't catch a fever."
"A fever?"
"Yes, you can get sick from this," Sister Clove says, standing up. "I'll tell Fern what's happening and fetch Mother Neva. She'll have some herbs to help."
"My mother should also have something for after labor pains," I say, turning towards the woman we just helped. "She can bring some for you. It's the least I can do for bleeding in your home."
"Nonsense child; you are not burdening us," the mother said, "You must be in shock right now. Fetch her some water and a fur. Don't worry darling."
She consoles me as Sister Clove leaves to inform Sister Fern and fetch our mothers. It's then that I finally feel the emotions bubble up to the surface and begin to cry, mourning for something I didn't even know I had growing within me.