Day Five-Thirty-Seven: Dragomir gets eddicated

When Libby gave birth to Eve, I was out guarding the Neck. Pretty sure I was on the Neck, anyway. By the time I got to her, the birth was over. Eve was born.

When Libby gave birth to Grayson, I was… not welcome in the wagon. I can't remember if it was Libby or June who kicked me out, but one of them did. I have vague recollections of seeing things that cannot be unseen, and I'm pretty sure my brain managed to unsee 'em. Grayson's birth is now just an unpleasant haze.

There's no adequate reason why I can't be present when this baby is born. That begs a rather important question for me: How ARE babies born? What's the process? How does child go from stomach to not-stomach? I was never taught how it's done, and despite not really wanting to know, I think it's important for the wellbeing of my wife.

Soooo… I went and asked.

I wish, now, that I hadn't.

I was too embarrassed to ask Libby herself, as I knew she would make fun of me, so I went to the other mother figure in my life: Queen Daena. She's always been a kind guide in times of trouble, and I reckoned she could help me out with this without smart remarks.

In retrospect, I wish I hadn't asked. Approaching her and saying "How do babies come out?" was remarkably silly.

Daena froze in the midst of chewing on a piece of cantaloupe. Her eyes widened, and for the briefest second her legs slowed as they spun. "Say what?"

I coughed and shuffled my feet, suddenly very embarrassed. "B… babies. How do they come out? Of the tummy?"

After a few more seconds of red-faced silence, Daena had to stifle a laugh. "Oh, Dragomir, you're adorable. You sound like a five-year-old."

I nearly ran away. Daena had to call me back as I stormed across the mound of grass towards my cabin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Daena patted me on the shoulder as I slouched beside her tree. "With all you've been through, I sometimes forget that you're still young. Please forgive me."

"Not that young," I grunted, scowling. "Got two kids 'n 'nother on the way."

"Another reason why I'm surprised. I'd have thought you'd know how this works already."

"Yeah, well, I guess I don't." I pouted, but there was no real anger in my voice. Just petty petulance. "Soooo… yeah… how… how's it work?"

Daena's mirth turned into a frown. "This is about Libby, isn't it? I haven't seen her in a while, but I've heard stories. Is she really as big as Jeffrey tells me?"

"Yeah, probably." I wondered when Jeffrey would've visited Libby. She doesn't hate him, but she's not his biggest fan, either. "Can't get up, can barely move. The baby must weigh sixty, seventy pounds by now. It's a very strange situation, 'n it has me worried."

Daena patted me on the shoulder. "She's tough. She'll make it through."

"Yeah…" No enthusiasm. "Yeah."

We stood and watched the world roll by for a few moments, scrolling past the windows in time with the pumping of Daena's feet on the pedals. Amazing what a few simple leg movements can accomplish.

"So…" Daena bit her lip. "You… want to know how it works, eh?"

"Yeah. I figure… I figure maybe, if I know how it normally goes, I can puzzle out some OTHER way for it to happen."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"… good idea."

"Yeah, I thought so."

"…"

"… um…"

"Yes?"

"So…"

"…"

"So… so how do babies come out?"

"Ah… yes. Well, um… that's… well, it's a bit complex."

"How so?"

"… mmm…"

"Do you need… tools…?"

"I… well, sometimes, I guess…"

"Like what?"

"Ummm… let's see… tools…"

"Like a hoe?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"A hoe. You know, for preparing fields." I mimed using a hoe.

"OH. Yes, a hoe."

"So you do use a hoe?"

"No. No, of course you don't. That would be silly."

"Oh." Pause. "Well, okay, then, what is used?"

The awkward dance probably would have continued for several minutes, I becoming more and more confused with each ambiguous statement, had a more graceful waltz not suddenly dropped out of Daena's tree in front of us. I knew the moment I saw that bland little smile that I was in for one hell of a ride.

Curtseying politely, Celine began. "When you impregnated your wife, Mud, you inserted your penis into her vagina. After what was doubtless an ample amount of thrusting, you ejaculated semen into her womb. The semen carried tiny sperm that, with a great deal of effort, fought their way to your wife's egg. One of those sperm fertilized the egg, thus creating a new life. When the baby is ready to be born it will travel out the same way it came in, emerging from your wife's vagina. The process may take several hours, and is typically accompanied by intense discomfort."

Daena's complexion glowed a fierce red. I, however, remained puzzled. "… what's a… va… vagina…?"

Celine laughed. "It's the female version of that thing you have between your legs. I believe you call it a 'thinger'."

"Oh," I said.

…

Oh.

Cue a mental image of me squeezing a full-grown child out of my thinger.

Also cue me, fleeing from Daena's tree as she yelled at her daughter.

After several hours of… mulling it over, I suppose, yes, that makes sense. It comes out of the… thinger. The girl-thinger. I've seen a girl-thinger before, and… yeah, I guess that could be true. It must be true, because, hell, where else would a baby come from?

This knowledge has not done me any good, sadly. All it has done is reinforce the idea that Libby can't give birth to this baby normally. Not if it's as big as her belly is hinting it'll be. If it… comes through her… thinger… it'll rip her in half.

I can't let that happen. I can't let my wife die. But… baby needs to be born… so…

Fuck. What're we gonna do?

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Confused