Page 88 of Winter Star
Eryon is attentive, feeding me little bits of food, offering sweet water to drink, and massaging my back. Just as the dawn breaks and golden light chases away the silvery shadows, thepain peaks. I feel a snap like a rubber band followed by gushing fluid.
What I thought was pain before is nothing compared to the contractions that come with my water breaking. I can sense the shift, as if my body is now getting down to serious business.
Instinctively, I squat in front of Eryon, telling him to sit in front of me. I pull his knees up and use them to balance my weight, breathing deep until I am overwhelmed with the strong urge to push.
I push and I push while Eryon encourages me to do whatever feels right. But it doesn’t feel right. A second of clear focus washes over me, and I realize something is off. I’m not making any headway despite all the pushing.
“Eryon, listen to me. I need to get this baby out, and I don’t feel like it's coming down correctly. I’m going to get on my hands and knees, so you’ll need to get behind me and help catch the baby.”
“Sruhnar, my Winter Star. I have complete faith in you. I will do whatever you wish. Just tell me what you need from me.” His voice is calm and steady as he helps me onto my hands and knees.
I know I made the right call as something shifts and the urge to push becomes even stronger. With a primal scream, I bear down with all my strength and finally feel my baby crowning. I cry in relief, waiting for the next contraction to push again.
Eryon talks me through everything he is feeling and seeing, his voice breaking with emotion as our little snowling slides into his hands. I sag back to recline on the bank as he passes me the little bundle, and I cradle it to my chest, looking down in awe at the baby in my arms.
He drops his forehead to mine, and we bask in the moment that we become a family. He helps me recline against him as I bring the baby to my breast, my breath rushing out as it latches.
“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. What a hungry little thing,” Isay in wonder as I gently trace my finger over a perfectly round cheek covered in downy white fuzz. A smile splits my face at the bright violet-blue eyes that blink up at me. My mother’s eyes.
“Hungry littlegirl,” he corrects, an answering smile splitting his face.
“I feel some more contractions, I think the nursing is triggering the placenta to release,” I say, falling back on the books I’ve read.
I breathe through a few of the contractions, enamored with the little girl who’s popped off my breast to stare in wonder at the world around her.
I’m just starting to worry that something is wrong with as strong as the pain is getting when I feel the overwhelming urge to push again. I pull my legs up and give in to it.
Eryon helps hold my tired legs as I continue to strain. “I don’t think this is just the placenta. Quick, get ready,” I pant out between pushes. No questions asked, he quickly places his hands between my legs, and with the next push, he catches a second snowling.
We stare at each other in shock. Whereas the first little girl is snow white like her daddy, this little fluff ball is silvery grey, an almost blue tint to the soft downy coat.
“A son,” he murmurs. He is quiet for a moment as he holds the second baby up in the light of dawn.
“Eryon?” I say softly.
He places our son at my other breast with reverence, his hands—appearing even larger as they cradle the tiny heads—resting protectively on each of them. Bowing his head, he exhales a breath that seems to carry the weight of his gratitude and awe.
He murmurs what sounds like a prayer in an ancient language, and after a long beat, meets my eyes. “I never thought to hold a snowling again. And now we have not just one, buttwo snowlings.Two. I will never be able to thank you for this gift, Sruhnar. Thank you, my Winter Star.”
He holds us close, this impossible, perfect family, as dawn spills golden light over the mountain. His arms are a shield, a promise, a vow.
I came here seeking a cure. Seeking survival.
Instead, I found eternity.
