butchiesmom

Rough Draft!

The young woman moaned as she pushed yet again. This time she felt the babe's head pop out. One more push, Mara, just one more push and the babe will come out. Words she'd heard her mother say to the women she'd helped birth over the years helped her now. She gathered another breath and bore down. The child slipped out of her body.

Mara looked around as she tried to clean her daughter's airways with the hem of her gown. The firewood she'd come out to gather, lay where it fell when the first birthing pain hit. She lay in the damp spot of birthing fluids. The second pain was the last one. She'd not had the chance to get back to the cottage and her sick mother before she felt the babe's head pushing to come out. Why isn't she crying? The infant wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. So limp, she's so limp. I have to get her to Mamma, she'll know what to do.

Mara gathered up the infant in the hem of her skirt and limped to the cottage, umbilical cord still connecting mother and child. She lifted the doorcover and went to her mother on the bed. Her mother was gone as well. She went to her mother's birthing kit, tied and cut the cord. A few minutes later, she delivered the afterbirth as well. She surveyed the scene in front of her. She laid her daughter beside her grandmother and hoped they crossed into the life hereafter together.

It hit her. She was alone. Her mother was gone. Her daughter was gone. Though her daughter had been the result of gang rape, just as she was, she'd wanted the child as it grew inside her. Now the two people she loved the most was gone.

"Mama? Mamma?" Mara shook the woman's body, trying to get a reaction from her, but it was too late. "Why Mamma? Why now? The plague is over. Why did you have to cross over now? What is to become of me now? Who will take care of me?" Questions asked, never to be answered.

A scratch at the doorcover almost went unheard. Mara looked up from her mother's body. "What do you want? I'm busy right now." This was not the time for company; it was the time for grief, for reflection on a life spent in the service of others, for burying the only love Mara had ever known.

What am I going to do? Mamma said she had more to teach me about birthing babies. There's no one else around here to teach me! Mara's worries were legitimate ones. Her mother had been the only midwife for several villages and now she had crossed into the life hereafter. What am I going to do? Her thoughts continued, always coming back to that question. She knew how to birth a baby. She'd been to many birthings with her mother, many more since the plague wrapped its talons around her village. So many people died. No one has been sick for months. Her mother crossed over before birthing her own grandchild.

A memorial needed to be performed. Her mother's body, now that she had crossed into the Life Hereafter, was no longer needed and no use to anyone else. The cottage must be burned. 'No home will remain standing where a death has occurred within.' She wanted time to say her final farewell to the woman who'd raised her since her birth. There was much to be done and decided soon.

Persistent scratching at the doorcover brought her out of her thoughts. "Midwife Ladas." An urgent tone to the man's voice brought her up off her knees where she'd knelt beside her mother's deathbed. "What do you want? Mamma's birthing another babe." Mara was quite within her rights to claim time with her mother's body for one last time alone with her. This man was interrupting what should be a peaceful time but telling him that wasn't an option yet.

"I apologize for my interruption, daughter of Midwife Ladas, but I have needs for a midwife," Mara walked toward the doorway as the man continued, "We already made arrangements with your mother. My wife is birthing now. Please tell me where I can find someone to help my wife birth her child."

Though Mara knew her time of midwifery apprenticeship wasn't over, she also knew there would be no one else to assist the woman. She lifted the doorcover as the man's last words, 'birth her child,' faded.

"I can birth the child for her," she told the desperate man, "Calm down, go home to your wife. Tell her I will be there soon." Mara got the directions to the cottage from him before he left for home. She dropped the doorcover and turned back to the room where her mother lay. "Mamma, she needs me. I know you'll understand." She gathered the kit her mamma kept for such emergencies and went to the door. Once there, she stopped and turned back to her mother. "Mamma, I'll be back to say my farewell. I know you understand why I don't do it now."

She turned back toward the doorcover and looked down, thinking... Do I have everything I need? Once satisfied, she lifted the door cover and walked away from her mother and daughter.

Altree94

And this is a ROUGH draft????!!!!
It's awesome as it stands!!!!
MORE, I want MORE!
(nag... nag... nag...) LOL!

butchiesmom

LOL, MsTree! Check out Inspiring Novelists, the ones with my name, they're all from the novel, lol.

hugs,
Gail

SarahNSH

Hello Gail!

You know the drill, standard review, with some extra little something for you focusing on strong points/weak points/what can be improved/what is really good, ect.

The child slipped out of her body.-

I felt like this needed maybe more description with this part right here, or something didn't sound quite right with it... I think that especially since I haven't had a kid before myself, or even seen those "the miracle of birth" programs. I know that this is what happens, with one last push they kind of "slip out" but I was kinda looking for more of the relief from her, or how it felt, or something like that. But, of course, this may just be me too and this is just my opinion.

The firewood she'd come out to gather, lay where it fell when the first birthing pain hit. She lay in the damp spot of birthing fluids. The second pain was the last one. -

Okay, I'd suggest rewording this with my suggestion below since I feel you have some extra words that you don't actually need in your sentence.

The firewood she'd gathered fell when the first birthing pain hit. She lay in the damp spot of birthing fluids. The second pain was the last one.

Questions asked, never to be answered. -

I would suggest with the above sentence to reword it:

She asked these questions, knowing they would never be answered.

A memorial needed to be performed. Her mother's body, now that she had crossed into the Life Hereafter, was no longer needed and no use to anyone else. The cottage must be burned. 'No home will remain standing where a death has occurred within.' She wanted time to say her final farewell to the woman who'd raised her since her birth.-

This is extremely interesting to find out about and a very unique thing that I have never come across before. Now, I wonder why this happens and why the houses are burned down after a death? It is their belief in the afterlife? Definitely some interesting info right here.

Anywho, altogether I really felt for Mara after I read this chapter. I've always enjoyed Mara's character and liked who she was. I love having some background on her and kind of an explanation on why she acts the way she does... the info about her being gang raped was also terrible and made me definitely feel for her for going through that. And then her daughter and mother die and she has to put on a brave face and help with someone with their birthing? Geez, I'd just tell them to bug off and find someone else to do it. So, this definitely speaks a lot for her character overall. Thanks for sharing this and keep on writing away, Gail!

butchiesmom

Thanks, Sarah. I like the suggestions that you made. About the child slipping out...I guess it's something you just have to experience, but I'll see what I can do, lol. Since this is a rough draft, revisions will make the difference in the long run. I just needed to get it written down before the words faded....lol. (you know what that's like)

Anyway, thanks for taking the time to go over this. I respect your opinions and your suggestions are usually spot on, just like this time.

hugs
Gail