Note: Chapter 14 of That Was Then, This Is Now from Dera's POV.

The pain was throbbing just under my ribcage like a second heart. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to concentrate on the book I was reading. Ironically, it was a new almanac, put out by a press in Immanion, dedicated to cataloging all things Wraeththu. By sheer will, coupled with the boredom the late days of hosting can bring, I had reached the section covering physiology. Wraeththu bodies were so much more efficient than human bodies, the text explained. They didn't visibly age; enjoyed a longer lifespan; were able to withstand poisons, injuries and disease deadly to humans; and in comparison, the process of procreation entailed so much less pain and discomfort.

I slammed the book shut -- enough reading for me! My hosting had certainly not been the model of Wraeththu perfection. Three weeks earlier I'd had to give up aruna, the discomfort had grown so great. After years of having Fafa stress the value of such sharing during hosting, it had been a disappointment for me to have to withdraw, but there hadn't been much choice. By this time, with the birth set to commence any day, I was no longer dealing with mere discomfort, but an interminable pain deep inside.

Fafa, whose life revolved around healing, had tried diagnosing the problem but hadn't found anything specific to explain what I was feeling. He'd prescribed medicines and carried out several mystical spells on me, but without knowing what the specific problem was, he was unable to help me. The week earlier he'd given me something that had stopped the pain for a few hours, but the effects hadn't lasted. I'd told him not to bother with offering any more cures. I would be strong and endure the pain, I told him, resolute. I was probably just too slender, I conjectured; the pearl was filling my body to bursting.

As I shifted onto my side, dropping the book onto the floor, I felt my abdominal muscles spasm. I tensed with anticipation. Was the time finally at hand? I froze for a minute or two, tuning into my body, but there was no further sign, only the throbbing pain I'd suffered for that past week, the twinges that had grown almost unbearably persistent.

Lying there waiting, I felt impatient and slightly annoyed. I had wanted another child and yes, I had asked for it -- "I have an idea -- make more!" I'd said -- and I'd managed to deal with it reasonably well for the first few weeks. This had been despite the arrival of Tishrana, Fafa's former chesna, who since then had moved in with us. Still, with no aruna and too uncomfortable to do any work and just feeling tired and bored, I wished for my hosting to be done with.

I closed my eyes. Fafara certainly wasn't suffering any lack of aruna; at that very moment, I knew, he was in the bedroom with Tishrana. I didn't mind at all and neither was I jealous. I knew there was enough of Fafa for both of us and furthermore, all aruna thoughts had gone from my mind, largely due to the pain and my preoccupation with the immediate future.

I turned my mind to other matters, domestic plans. We would be needing another bedroom or two, I told myself, envisioning the way I wanted the addition to be constructed and how it would be decorated. I had already put together a wonderfully cosy spot for the new harling and I considered what else I might be buying him. Then I thougth of my youngest child, Adelna. He would be continuing with his caste training, of course, but I was interested in expanding the market for his artwork. Or perhaps I could take him to an artistic tribe like the Ferike for training. I was always trying to do what was best for him.

Such were my thoughts when at last the blade cut through my gut. Given what I'd been experiencing those last few days, I'd speculated the the pains of birth would be considerably worse than those I experienced with my first, my precious Ilafa. I had vastly underestimated the degree of difference.

The first seizure lasted for a full minute. With every second I felt a terrible tightening, all my muscles contracting, constricting. At the same time, I felt something else, a hideous twisting feeling, as if part of me, somewhere inside, was being wrenched or torn.

With the instincts of an animal, I let myself drop off the sofa and crawled towards the bedroom. Help. I needed help. I could barely move. I fell down to the floor several times, seizures of pain slamming through me in waves. The entire episode replays in my mind in slow motion; I see the shiny brass knobs on the doors in the hall, how each one seemed to be staring at me wickedly, taunting me, as I dragged myself to the door at the end, the only one that mattered. Finally I clasped the doorknob I wanted and, flinging the door open, fell onto the floor again, begging for help.

They put me on the bed as I felt my insides being torn to shreds. I wasn't even really seeing either of them; I didn't care about them, couldn't tell them what was happening. They were just help. Help for me. I felt like I was dying.

It was another sort of reality. I remember thinking there wasn't time, that time needed to either speed up -- let the birth be done with -- or it needed to slow down and let me have time to address things. At present speed, time was lacking. There wasn't time to communicate, concentrate, or think about things. There was only time for my body to make it happen, for them to help me make it happen, to make the pain come to an end and give me my body back.

I grunted and squawked and cried, batting away the helpful hands of those I loved. I struck Fafa in the face, he's since told me; I don't remember it, but I believe it. As I said, I didn't care of them and had little patience. It seemed they understood only but dimly what I was going through. Why couldn't they do something? To me it was like they were ghosts at the edge of my vision, watching but unable to help, as I battled flesh and blood demons and lived a nightmare of twisting muscles and sobbing tears.

The siege raged on and on, so long that for all I had wanted to alter time, finally it seemed to have lost all meaning. It was an hour I battled, they've told me since. I don't know. I just know that I had stopped making noises, stopped struggling so hard. I was so tired and then suddenly, I was feeling something different.

A hot liquid seeped out from my body, between my legs. I knew it was blood. The pain was awful and I clutched the center of my being, that terrible pain, wanting to rip it out, rip it out with the pearl and be done with it. Why wouldn't it come?

It was of course Fafa and Tishrana who finally realized. The birth itself wasn't the root of my agony. The real problem was an old wound, the spot in my gut where I'd been attacked in the desert. At the time I'd nearly died, left bleeding and carrying a pearl, all alone in the hot desert. It had been Fafa and his apprentice Arafa who had saved me and seen me safely birth the pearl three weeks later. Now Fafa saved me again.

Together with Tishrana, he cast a healing spell, working against the precise spot where I was tearing, where apparently tissues had not healed as much as we had thought. Incantations filled the air and there might have been a magic glow, although I was so delirious it might have been an image in my fevered mind.

I felt a cooling balm spread over my skin, stripped naked, and then there was a wondrous tingling cloud of power which sank through all my tissues and down into the hurt. For a moment, right at that spot in my body, I felt ice, cold and numbing, but then I felt a great warmth, a rush of energy, and I knew I was healed.

I lay back with only one purpose. My muscles contracted smoothly and strongly, sending the pearl on its way to life. I stared into the eyes of the father and what I would later call the stepfather. The pain had gone. I wondered if this was the way it was supposed to be, if this was how it should have been with Ilafa and how it could be in the future. If it was, I thought, it wasn't so bad at all. Maybe I would have more pearls.

A feeling of utter euphoria took over in those minutes, as my muscles worked and worked, Fafara and Tishrana encouraging me, wiping down my brow, holding my hands, looking down between my legs to check me. Finally I felt the tension I knew signalled the end. I felt stretched to my utmost and I squeezed their hands with all my might as I did what nature wanted me to do. It was pain but it was worthwhile, a pain with a purpose, and it was the last pain. After that, I would be well.

The pearl emerged bit by bit and finally slipped out into their waiting hands. No more suffering. No more twinges. Just my own body and a pearl, my partners with me. We would always be together.