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A yell tore through the halls of the Kiramman mansion.
It was loud and elongated; when it died down, another one occurred two minutes later.
The bedroom of Vi and Caitlyn Kiramman was the source of the noise, pinpointed even more to Vi, as she sat up on the bed in a panting, sweaty mess. Caitlyn knelt at her side on the bed, holding VI’s muscular thigh up closer towards her torso, as a midwife stayed between Vi’s legs, giving her instructions. Throughout the pain of each contraction, Vi listened closely and did as she was told, breathing short breaths through the next wave. Her pink bangs were stuck to her forehead, one fist gripped the towels underneath her, and the other was held in Caitlyn’s hand.
“Oh, Violet, you’re doing wonderful, my darling. She’s nearly here,” encourages Caitlyn, and the midwife nods.
“I can see the head, good job, Vi. Keep breathing like that, and when the next contraction comes, push.”
The next contraction comes with another whail, but Vi pushes through it even if it feels like her vagina is a ring of fire right now. There’s a pressure building below as she pushes and lets out a final guttural groan, and suddenly the pressure disappears. Her breath comes back in a big gasp as she and Caitlyn stare towards the midwife.
A cry fills the air.
Their baby daughter is held up for the new mums to see, pink, wrinkly, and covered in blood and vernix with her umbilical cord still attached. Her tiny arms and legs wiggle as she cries, being passed over to Vi, who gets comfy on the propped-up pillows behind her. The thin robe she’s wearing is already loose at the top, so there’s a clear area of skin for their daughter to be placed. Caitlyn lets go of Vi’s leg and shuffles up to lie next to her wife as they gaze down with tears in their eyes at their newborn.
“Hey, little muffin,” whispers Vi, and the high-pitched crying slowly quietens at the sound of a familiar voice. “Yeah, you know that sound, don’t you? I’m your Mommy, and this is your Mummy.”
Tears are trailing down Caitlyn’s cheeks as she gently brushes a finger through the purple hair on top of the baby's head.
“Oh, Violet, she’s beautiful,” she breathes, wiping at her cheeks.
“I can’t believe she’s here. All ten fingers and toes and all,” says Vi, sniffing, letting their baby hold her finger.
“Caitlyn,” the midwife asks, softly, smiling. “Would you like to cut the cord?”
There’s a quick nod from Caitlyn.
With shaky hands, the cord is cut, and the midwife clamps it afterwards. She then brings a towel over to dry the baby with before wrapping her up in a clean one. It’s Caitlyn’s turn to hold her now, sitting up by Vi, to distract her from the afterbirth and being stitched up.
“She looks like you,” says Caitlyn, unable to stop smiling.
Tiny blue eyes look around her new surroundings, all while letting out small whimpers. Vi places a small kiss on the side of her head, getting a good first dose of that newborn baby smell.
“She has your eyes,” Vi murmurs, still tearing up. “She’s perfect, Cait.”
The two new mums briefly look away from their daughter to share a sweet kiss. Afterwards, they keep their foreheads pressed together as they gaze down at her with loving eyes and adore every slight movement and sound she makes.