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“It happens,” Samuel shifts for Kaikare to remove the bark from beneath Eden’s legs and flips it to empty the urine onto the ground. She gathers more bark from near the fire and replaces it between her legs.
“Is my baby supposed to land on that? Please tell me you’ll catch her,” she moans.
Samuel rubs her lower back. “If the women need to lay the baby somewhere to attend to you, that’s where they place her. The smokey aroma mixed with the bark can help the process. And don’t worry about Arukuma Turùpo,” he says for her ears only. “I’ll be here for her.”
“Promise me you’ll do what you can to save her,” Eden pleads through a muffled sob.
How can he promise when he doesn’t know the extent of their baby’s premature birthing complications? “I need you to focus.”
“No, Samuel. I’m serious. Promise me,” Eden rasps.
He meets her gaze before her eyes clamp shut with another contraction. “Yes,” he whispers, hoping his word to be true.
“Argh, I need to move. I think I want to push now.”
He assists her to squat, and he asks Chirké to come and sit behind Eden to take her weight.
“I want you,” she croaks. “I want you to hold me.”
“Then I won’t be able to assess you. Give me a moment, and if I’m satisfied, then I’ll allow Kaikare to observe your progress.”
“I’m scared,” she rasps.
He strokes her forehead. “It’s okay to be, but Kaikare has assisted in childbirth for many years.”
She reaches out and grabs his hand. “Do you think this is how my gran gave birth to her?”
He leans in and kisses her damp cheek. “There’s a high chance it was here under this tree. She’d be proud of you. Like her ancestors, Kaikare has learned much of her practice over the years in the same technique used for your Gran.” She smiles at him, and her joy in the smallest thing gives him a reprieve.
Eden squeezes his hand. “It hurts so much,” she wails and curls in on herself.
“You’re doing great, my love. I’m so proud of you.” Samuel maintains a serious expression when the baby’s head crowns and slides back. “I want you to push on your next contraction,” he gently urges.
“Okay.” She pants a few times, then groans loudly. Holding her knees, Eden grunts hard while pushing for as long as her breath allows. She falls back into Chirké’s arms. “I’m spent. I can’t push like this,” she sobs.
“Eden. Eden, look at me,” he demands. He waits for her bloodshot eyes to meet his. “See that twine hanging in a loop?”
“God, what’s it for?”
“To help you push. You squat while hanging onto that and use it to help push. We can carry you over there.”
“No, I’m not moving. Please don’t make me move. The pain is unbearable.”
“It’s okay.” He offers her his balled hands. “Use me to help bear down.”
Curling her back into a C-shape, Eden gives three more pushes. Samuel lets go of her hands to assess her progress. “Pant through the next contraction.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
He uses his fingers to help stretch her labia around the head. “I’m giving you time to adjust so you don’t tear.”
“Tear? Ugh, great.”
Kaikare tells Samuel she’s preparing the twine and pipe and walks to the fire.
“Okay, push when you’re ready.”
On the next contraction, Eden pushes with all her energy, groaning until the end of her breath. “Good,” he tells her. Pure joy pumps through his body, his head feeling light with excitement and fear. “The baby’s head is free. One more push.” Eden isn’t out of the woods yet.
