A/N: Bruges and Ghent are both part of modern-day Belgium, but in the sixteenth century they were considered to be part of the Netherlands.
"The beach here is so lovely," Rosie remarked as she and Francis strolled along the shore of the island city of Flushing. "Different from Dover, but lovely nonetheless."
Rosie had accompanied Francis to the Netherlands, where they also planned to visit Bruges and Ghent.
"I had a feeling you'd like it here," Francis said with a smile.
"I can just see us strolling here with our child," Rosie continued. She was six months pregnant with the couples' first child.
"Wait until you see Bruges." Francis chuckled. "There are canals and a large belfry." He enjoyed seeing the wonder in his wife's eyes as she saw the country for the first time.
After the walk along the beach, there was a special dinner with William of Flushing. That night, in luxurious accommodations provided by William, Rosie felt her child move inside her and thought about how happy and excited she was to be visiting a new country with her husband.
Rosie did indeed love Bruges. She enjoyed the trip down the canal and marveled at the size of the bell tower.
"It's been here for three hundred years, and it has a total of 48 bells," Francis told her. They stayed to hear the free concert given by the carillonneur before returning to their lodgings.
Francis and Rosie were still in the Netherlands when Rosie's labor pains started three months later. She was both excited and frightened. Francis stayed with her for as long as he was permitted to, rubbing her back and moistening her lips with a damp rag.
"Don't be afraid, ma cherie," he encouraged her. "Everything's going to be just fine."
Rosie had weak, irregular labor pains for many hours. When they became stronger, a midwife was called to examine her, and Francis had to leave.
"I'll see you again in just a little while, my darling," he told his wife as he kissed her, trying desperately to push from his mind all the different things that could possibly go wrong.
Rosie tried her best to rest in between contractions, saving up her energy for when she knew she'd need it. As the contractions became stronger and closer together, she bit her lip so hard to keep from crying out that it bled.
"Go ahead and scream if you feel like it," the midwife told her.
"I feel like I have to push!" Rosie told her. The midwife quickly examined her again. "Go ahead and push. It's time," she said.
With the next contraction, Rosie bore down with all her strength, but nothing happened. Discouraged, she slumped back onto the bed.
"You're doing fine," the midwife encouraged her. "Just keep pushing."
Rosie gave several more pushes. "The head is crowning," the midwife told her.
Rosie felt giddy with excitement. "Does that mean you can see the top of the baby's head?"
The midwife nodded. Her strength renewed, Rosie pushed again.
"The baby's whole head is out now," the midwife told Rosie a moment later. "Give me one more big push."
Rosie did, and felt the baby's whole body slide from her own.
"It's a girl!" the midwife announced. She cut the cord and briskly rubbed the tiny body, and the baby began to cry.
"She's so little!" Rosie exclaimed, gazing in wonder and awe at her new daughter. It was the first time she could remember seeing a newborn close-up. She'd only been four years old when Annie had been born, and she had yet to meet her younger brother Guilford.
Rosie tentatively reached to touch the baby. "Her skin is so soft!"
Suddenly Francis was there, grinning broadly. It occurred to Rosie that her husband might be disappointed that she hadn't given him a son.
"Is it all right?" she asked him timidly.
"Of course it's all right! Why shouldn't it be?" he asked her.
"I was afraid you'd be disappointed that she wasn't a boy," Rosie said softly.
"No, not at all! She's beautiful!" Francis assured her. "I'm just so thankful that you and she are both fine."
Rosie smiled gratefully. "I'd like to name her May, since it's the month she was born in, and it's a lovely name besides," she suggested hesitantly.
"I think that's the perfect name for her," Francis agreed.
May had dark brown hair and dark blue eyes, and her facial features looked just like a tiny replica of her father's.
"She looks just like you," Rosie observed.
"So she does." Francis smiled with pleasure.
Tired but elated, Rosie cuddled May close and rested her head on her husband's shoulder.