Charlotte's world was filled with pain and noise, but she felt strangely detached from her surroundings. It was as though she were viewing her situation from the outside and through a veil. She pieced together all that she could remember of the day. She certainly knew that she had felt in good health upon bidding farewell to her family, and then she had a blank patch in her recollections until she awoke in Mr Peterson's arms. She was aware of much shouting and of being carried some distance towards her house. Then more darkness and new voices. These voices were here and now. She recognised Mrs Brown, the monthly nurse, and a male voice which seemed to come from someone who was in command of things (she did not recognise his voice). She tried to focus, but lost consciousness once again.
In her next lucid moment, the noise was still coming from all around her, but the pain had lessened slightly. Charlotte risked opening her eyes and sought to get her bearings. She realised that she was in the nearly completed lying in chambers that she had been busily preparing for the past few weeks. She had not thought to be moving into these for at least another fortnight, but here she apparently was. Mrs Brown saw that she was awake and aware and came to her side instantly. "Mrs Collins, you are in good hands, Dr Simpson, your accoucheur, is here with you and all care is being taken. You gave us quite a fright, but things seem to be proceeding nicely."
"Proceeding?" muttered Charlotte, as confused as she was weak. "But they cannot be proceeding. It is not time yet. Tell him that it is too soon!"
"Now, now, Mrs Collins, it wouldn't be the first time that a little miscalculation has happened in these things. It just looks as though you are a little further along than we all thought. Indeed, you look quite full term, now that I have a chance to see you properly. We will look after you, and you don't need to worry about anything."
Not worry! That was not going to be possible. Charlotte knew that there could be no miscalculation. Mr Collins had been away on lengthy visits at various points early in the year and their 'marital contact' had not been frequent even without such a circumstance. The opportunities to conceive this child had been so few that she was able to count them on the fingers of one hand. The only possibilities were that she was either ten and a half months' pregnant (which was plainly impossible despite her size and her earlier protestations of gestating an elephant) or she was still under eight months' along.
"Too soon," she murmured again, but her words turned to a sob as pain overtook her and she felt a rushing through her body as if her insides were trying to escape in one great gushing torrent. After this, things seemed to be happening at great speed all around her and the noise built again, partly contributed to by her own cries, but mostly comprising the startled instructions of the birthing doctor who seemed somewhat alarmed at the pace with which things were happening. Time slipped away. Mrs Brown said something about the pains coming too quickly, but to Charlotte they were anything but quick: they were long, agonising and eternal. It all became one desperate medley of pain and noise and instructions to push and to stop and to sit and to turn and to lie down. In the end, Charlotte gave up on trying to follow the directions to this dance in which she wished no part. She simply lay exhausted and allowed Mrs Brown to position her as the doctor demanded.
"You are doing very well, Mrs Collins," the doctor advised, "this child is in a fearful rush to join us, it will not be long now." Charlotte was too tired to take the words in, but became quickly aware that something new was happening as the pains and the pressure altered markedly. All of her senses seemed to come back to life in one instant as new life passed from her into the world, and she heard a tiny mewling cry as a blurred object was whisked away from her by the efficient Mrs Brown.
"My baby," she begged, "is my baby well?"
"A fine girl," the doctor announced from the other side of the room, "small, to be sure, but she has all of the requisite parts."
A huge yell erupted as the infant was cleaned, and Mrs Brown laughed, "And a fine pair of lungs obviously."
"Now, Mrs Collins, we need only wait a little for the final action on your part and the task will be completed. This duty is far easier, never fear," counselled the doctor as he moved to examine Charlotte more closely.
She relaxed back onto the pillows behind her and had just taken in a deep breath to sustain and compose herself, when a pain worse than any of the others suddenly wracked her body. She screamed in agony and went as rigid as a board in her shock. The doctor made efforts to hold her down and called for Mrs Brown as he attempted to complete his examination. "This is most unexpected… I had been given no indication that this was the case…We are not prepared for this. The servants must bring more water, more linens, more everything. Get the wet nurse in here to take the first child."
The first child? Charlotte thought weakly. Dear God, no. I cannot do this again…
But she did. Not without significant distress, difficulty, and no small amount of terror, but in less than the passage of three hours, Charlotte Collins found herself delivered of two babies. A tiny and fractious, but perfectly formed, baby girl, and her slightly larger and much more placid brother. The latter seemed well pleased with his situation, and had evidently decided that he was ready for the world even if his sister was not so sure. But, in a pattern that was to repeat itself many times throughout their futures, he had persuaded his reluctant sibling to go first, saving himself much bother and peril by this strategy!
The babies were brought briefly to her, but Charlotte was too exhausted even to hold them, merely repeatedly asking "and they are well?" before slipping into a blessed unconscious state which held her in its grasp through the entirety of the next twelve hours.