The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

“Yes,” she said between panting breaths. She had been bearing down hard with each pain, and felt an urge to push again, but was trying to hold back for a moment. “I think so.”

They all helped Ayla to her feet and led her to the birthing blanket. Proleva showed her the squatting position to take, then she got on one side of her while Folara supported her other side. Marthona was in front, smiling and offering moral support. Zelandoni got behind her and clasped the young woman to her massive breast, wrapping her arms around her, above the bulge of her stomach.

Ayla felt enveloped by the softness and warmth of the huge woman; it was comforting to lean back on her. She felt like Mother, like all mothers combined in one, like the soft bosom of the Earth itself. But there was something else, too. Enormous strength lay hidden underneath the mounds of flesh. Ayla felt sure this woman could display every mood of Mother Earth Herself, from the gentleness of a warm summer day to the fury of a driving blizzard. If she felt so moved, she could lash out with the devastating power of a raging storm, or comfort and nourish like a soft mist.

“Now, at the next pain, I want you to push,” Zelandoni said. The two women on either side of her were each holding a hand, giving her something to grip.

“I feel it coming,” Ayla said.

“Then push!” Zelandoni said.

Ayla took a deep breath and bore down as hard as she could. She felt the donier helping her, pushing down on the baby with her. A gush of warm water spilled on the blanket.

“Good. I was waiting for that,” Zelandoni said.

“I wondered when her waters were going to break,” Proleva said. “Mine seem to break so early, I’m almost dry by the time the baby comes. This is better. Here she goes again.”

“Now, again, push, Ayla,” Zelandoni said.

Ayla bore down again and felt movement.

“I can see the head,” Marthona said. “I’m ready to catch the baby.” She knelt down closer to Ayla, just as another strong contraction started. As Ayla took a deep breath and pushed.

“Here it comes!” Marthona said.

Ayla felt the passage of the head. The rest was easy. As the baby slid out, Marthona reached out and caught it.

Ayla looked down and saw the wet infant in Marthona’s arms, and smiled. Zelandoni smiled, too.

“One last push, Ayla, to get out the afterbirth,” Zelandoni said, helping her again. She pushed and watched a mass of bloody tissue fall on the birthing blanket.

Zelandoni let go of her and moved around to the front of the new mother. Proleva and Folara supported Ayla while Zelandoni took the baby, turned it over, and patted the tiny back. There were little hiccuping sounds. Zelandoni thumped the baby’s feet and watched the infant expel breath in a startle response, then breathe in the first gulp of life-giving air. There was a small crying sound, hardly more than a mewling at first, but it grew as the lungs became accustomed to sustaining life.

Marthona held the infant while the donier cleaned Ayla up a little, wiping away blood and fluid, then Proleva and Folara helped her back to the bed. Zelandoni tied a piece of sinew around the baby’s navel cord—at Ayla’s request it had been dyed red with ochre—to pinch it off and prevent bleeding from the still engorged tube. With a sharp flint blade she cut the cord between the tie and the afterbirth, separating the infant from the placenta that had provided nourishment and a place to grow until birth. Ayla’s infant was a separate entity, a unique and individual human being.

Marthona and Zelandoni cleaned the baby with a velvety soft rabbitskin that Ayla had made for the purpose. Marthona had a small blanket ready, again velvety soft, and so smooth, it felt like the baby’s skin. It was made from the hide of a nearly full-term deer foetus. Zelandoni had told Jondalar that it would be especially lucky for the child born to his hearth if he could secure such a hide for the birth, and he and his brother had gone out near the end of winter looking for a pregnant deer.

Ayla had helped him make the foetal deerskin into the supple leather blanket. He had always been amazed at the softness of her leathers, a skill he knew she had learned from the Clan. After working with her on one, he understood how much effort it took, even starting with a tender foetal skin. Zelandoni laid the baby on the blanket, then Marthona wrapped the newborn in it and brought the child to Ayla.

38

You should be pleased. She’s a perfect little girl,” Marthona said, giving the tiny bundle to her mother.

Ayla looked at the tiny likeness of herself. “She’s so beautiful!” She unwrapped the swaddling of soft skins and carefully examined her new daughter, half-fearful in spite of the reassuring words that she would find some deformity. “She is perfect. Did you ever see such a beautiful baby, Marthona?”

The woman just smiled. Of course she had. Her own babies, but this one, the daughter of her son’s hearth, was no less beautiful than her own had been.

“The delivery wasn’t very hard at all, Zelandoni,” Ayla said when the donier came and looked at them both. “You helped a lot, but it wasn’t really so hard. I’m so glad she’s a girl. Look, she’s trying to find my breast.” Ayla helped her, with the ease of experience, Zelandoni thought. “Can Jondalar come and see her? I think she looks a lot like him, don’t you, Marthona?”

“He can come soon,” Zelandoni said as she examined Ayla and wrapped some fresh abs

orbent leather between her legs. “There was no tearing, Ayla, no damage. Only the bleeding to cleanse. It was a good delivery. Do you have a name for her?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it ever since you told me I would have to choose the name for my baby,” Ayla said.

“Good. Tell me the name. I will make a symbol for it on this stone, and exchange it for this,” she said, picking up the birthing blanket wrapped into a bundle around the afterbirth. “Then I will take this out and bury it, before the spirit life still remaining in the afterbirth tries to seek a home close to the life it once held. I must do it quickly, then I will tell Jondalar to come in.”

“I’ve decided to call her…” Ayla began.