I abruptly awaken. I carefully sit up, and rest my back against the cold wall. Tears stream down my face, as I'm greeted by the same empty darkness. It seems certain, I'm going to die here, where no one will find me. My stomach rumbles, aching with hunger. I'm exhausted, famished, and parched. As I find my bearings, I feel a sudden urge to go to the toilet, but it doesn't quite feel normal. My membranes rupture, and my water breaks. A sudden gush of water escapes that I cannot control. It becomes clear that my sudden urge was one of the twins pressing against my bowel. I become overwhelmed with fear. My labor has begun. I bring myself together enough to take off my panties and hike up my skirt. I take off my jacket and lay it down as padding, in case I give birth sooner than I already expect. If this is really happening, the twins have decided to come a month early.

Approximately half an hour later, the pain in my back becomes more severe, my uterus feels tight, then relaxes. I breathe heavily, not expecting the sharp pain. Although I'd had children before, I'd never felt anything like this. It would seem, being a Fae and having children is nothing like that of a human. I grip the table leg tightly, as my contractions feel stronger. I attempt to count the seconds through the excruciating pain, I get to about 35, give or take, until I lose count to focus on my breathing. I've got to breathe through the pain. My muscles in my womb continue to contract, the pain increases each time. I put my hand to my abdomen, I feel it getting tighter. I inhale and exhale deeply. As my muscles relax, I feel the rigidness ease under my hand. With the intensity of the pain, it feels like a whole day had passed me by, but I shortly realize that my contractions are becoming more frequent. Tears stream down my face knowing my children would be born in what seemed like the dark pits of hell. My fear intensifies, I'm going to have to deliver the twins with no support. I start to wonder if any of us will pull through. My contractions begin to last longer, I count about 60-70 seconds each time, they can't be more than 3 minutes apart. I feel the sudden urge to push.

I choose to "semi-sit", I hold my chin down to my chest, rounding my back slightly against the wall, hoping my abdominal muscles will aid my uterus in pushing out my babies. I am hoping the position would use gravity to push the babies out quicker. I feel one of the babies crowning, I stop pushing, relaxing my neck, shoulders, and legs as much as possible. I pant fast, then blow out as I visualize blowing out candles. I squeeze the table leg, trying my hardest not to push. I soon realize, I have no choice, there is no going back now. I don't want to deform my baby's head, or even kill it, so I push. It seems like eternity passes before I am able to push the shoulders out. My body feels more exhausted than it was before. Sweat pours off of my forehead, as I continue to pant. I feel slightly relieved as the baby slips out after the shoulders pass. I hear the baby cry, thank God he or she is okay. I search my surroundings, desperately trying to find something to cut the umbilical cord before the second baby starts to come. I gently pick up the baby and cling to it as my hand scuttles across the floor. My hand hits something hard. The edge feels sharp enough. As I pull on it I hear a stack of bones tumble. I dry heave as I realize I'm holding a human bone in my hand, a scapula, I think. This will have to do. I press the cord against the floor and saw through it with the bone. I resist the urge to throw the piece of bone. I'm going to need it again. As I clean the baby off to the best of my ability in the limited light, I realize it's our little baby boy. I steal those few minutes with him until I feel the second baby coming.

I remove my top sharply, wrapping my baby son in it. I hold him close to my breast to keep warm. My free hand tightly clutches the table leg again. I dig my heels into the floor as my daughter's head crowns. Just like with my son, once her shoulders are out, the pain subsides and the rest of her slips out. She's not crying! I put my baby boy to the side of me for just a moment. I desperately feel for the piece of bone to cut her cord. As I feel for the cord I find it wrapped around my baby girl's neck. -No, no no, this can't be happening! God, please no!- I shriek in horror. I'm sobbing. Tears flood my eyes as I find she's not breathing. Her lips are cold and pale, she's lifeless. I frantically unwrap the cord from her neck, still nothing. She's not crying, not breathing, she's gone. I hold her tightly to my chest and rock her. I have to stop crying but I can't. My tears run down onto her precious little head. Her brother, screams out, he cries with me almost as if he knows she is lost. -Sleep well my baby.- I sob, swallowing hard. -Your grandma will take good care of you until we meet again. Your mommies love you very much. We'll always remember you.- My voice breaks, -we'll never forget the day we lost you.- I kiss the top of her head, shaking, I break down, unable to contain my emotions as I solemnly and carefully wrap my baby girl up in my jacket with the placentas that nourished my babies for so long. I gently place the bundle beside me, softly running my hand over it. I pick up my baby boy. I clutch him in my arms. I bring him to my breast. He needs to feed. He has to survive. I check that he is still wrapped up. I know he has to keep warm. I feel a sudden chill, as I have no layers left to keep me warm. But my children, they come first. I kiss my son's head. -It's okay, mommy has you. Soon, we'll be in a better place.- I desperately cling to consciousness. I must protect my baby boy. I refuse to lose him too.