“Just hold your mother’s hand.”
Rovena remained by her daughter’s side, an arm behind her daughter’s back helping her upright.
Laura went to sit on the other side and took her other hand. “You can squeeze my hand if you like.”
“Slowly, slowly. Small pushes,” Adam said. “That’s it.” He looked up at the girl whose face was bathed in sweat. Unless they were tears.
“Take a break and breathe.”
Laura looked around helplessly, wondering what else she could do. Then, seeing the pile of towels on the chair, she took them to the radiator and laid them on it to warm them.
A gasp from behind her signalled another painful contraction. Tirana was now moaning loudly.
Laura couldn’t bring herself to look. Should she make more tea? She focussed on warming the towels. She’d seen too many films of tragic childbirth. If anything was going to go wrong, it would be now.
“Everything is moving perfectly.” Adam spoke calmly. “Count to ten. Keep breathing.”
Listening to him, it was impossible to remember this was an emergency.
“I can see the head. My God, it’s beautiful,” Rovena said. And then she said more things which Laura didn’t understand because it was in Albanian, but the tone was full of love and excitement.
Unexpectedly, Laura’s thoughts went to her own mother who must have been Tirana’s age when she had her. Pity filled her for the teenager who’d given birth alone, in secret, in shame, without a loving mother by her side. Without someone like Adam saying soothing, encouraging things.
Out of nowhere, she wished she had known her mother, she wished she could have made her a cup of hot sweet tea and thank her for not having an abortion.
“Now small push,” Adam said from somewhere behind her. “Very small push.”
A loud exclamation in Albanian finally made Laura turn around a look.
The baby lay between Tirana’s legs. A perfect living baby. And the world changed. The little baby coughed or hiccuped, then it opened its little mouth and cried. It was like a miracle.
Tears stung her eyes. And she found herself hugging Rovena. She too had tears running down her face.
Tirana, though, was trying to prop herself up on her elbows to see between her legs.
Adam snatched a warm towel from the radiator and rubbed the baby’s little body clean. “You have a beautiful baby boy,” he said as he cut the cord and tied it with one of the silk strips.
“Is he… is he?” she asked.
“He’s perfect.” Adam wrapped the baby with a clean towel, making sure his head was well-covered, then laid him on his mother’s chest, directly on her skin.
Her arms went round the little bundle, her eyes shining with wonder.
Rovena, laughing through her tears, knelt on the bed behind Tirana, hugging her and raining kisses into the girls hair while watching the little baby.
“He is beautiful.” Tirana stroked his forehead. Then after a moment, she pressed a soft kiss on his head. “Saban,” she whispered. “I want to name him Saban.”
Laura wiped at her cheeks, but more tears kept coming.
Chapter Nineteen
Adam restedone elbow on the kitchen table as he lifted the tea mug to his lips. Laura had kept him supplied with a steady stream of cups of tea but they’d all gone cold before he could drink them. Now he leaned back in Rovena’s clean kitchen and took a grateful long sip. The hot tea scalded his tongue.
Laura brought her own cup to the table and took a seat opposite. “Thank God that went well.”
And it had. He guessed the baby was nearer full term than expected. Another reason to feel grateful. They could both hear him making small noises as his young mother and grandmother fussed and cooed over him in the bedroom.
“I was so terrified,” Laura said softly. “I tried not to show it but…”
