My name is Princess Ariel and I am 16 years old. For those who know me, I have had quite a life in less than two decades.
I grew up in the sea, specifically in the Kingdom of Atlantica, where my father, King Triton, runs the show. Along with my six older sisters, we grew up under his watchful eye, and my fondest memories were when we were tucked into bed by our mother as young children and when our father took us to the surface in order to have fun.
Most of you who know my father have seen him as a hard, stern, unforgiving, bad-tempered individual with an unpleasant demeanor. But he was not always this way; I remembered one night when he told my sisters and I that our mother was gone and would not be coming back. I was not aware what that meant until years later, when I realized that our mother had died. From that day onwards, my father was a changed merman, imposing strict rules on all his subjects.
His strictness, including a ban on visiting the surface and interacting with humans, was a source of tension between the two of us, especially as I secretly observed humans from afar and the good they did. How could such a beautiful world be bad?
You know the rest of the story, how I fell in love with Prince Eric and after I made some pretty reckless decisions, I ended up nearly losing my life. But after Prince Eric saved my family and my father's kingdom, my father acknowledged his wrongdoings and transformed me into a human, allowing me to marry the love of my life.
From a young age, I have desired motherhood. My memories of my mother are nothing but fond ones, where she sang songs, tucked us into bed. I remember her tender voice, her beautiful singing, and most of all, her looks. According to my father and my sisters, I resemble my mother the most. Perhaps this explained why my father was particularly fearful when I visited the surface; I reminded him of my deceased mother each and every day.
After getting married to Eric, we did it. I initially had no idea of how human women gave birth, but Carlotta explained everything.
One morning in the hot summer, I got out of bed, feeling groggy. This was it, I thought. This was the day that my baby would be coming.
When I got up, Carlotta told me that Eric had gone out into the sea for a fishing trip. I informed Carlotta that I was feeling uncomfortable.
"Your baby must be coming, dear," she said.
"I bet," I moaned. I had not given consideration to this; I never imagined that human pregnancy and childbirth would be this uncomfortable. Little did I know what awaited me.
I went back into my room and laid down in bed. I took off everything except for my bra and underwear. There I was, in my bed, feeling uncomfortable and groggy.
Carlotta came and went, checking on how I was doing.
"Just leave me alone," I groaned. I was not in the mood to be bothered, and was not willing to let anyone see me naked.
Hours passed. By late afternoon, I was beginning to feel the urge to push. I took off everything, going completely naked, before lying down in bed. I stared at myself in a large mirror on the wall, where my naked self stared back. For those who have never seen me, I am a white woman with fair skin and bright red hair, traits I inherited from my mother. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, where I saw my naked reflection, including my bare breasts and the opening of my birth canal. There, my child would exit into this world.
I laid down on my back, and pulled my legs back, as I looked into the mirror. My reflection stared back, as I breathed heavily.
Feeling incredible pain and the urge to push, I bore down into my bottom, as if I was constipated. Clenching my teeth and closing my eyes, I gave two pushes into my bottom.
"UUUUUGGGGHGGGGHHH!" I growled.
"UUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!"
I opened my eyes, and looked into the mirror. Nothing, except just my reflection. Another contraction hit and I began pushing again. Bearing down with four pushes, I clenched my teeth and gave every ounce of strength I had.
My face was turning red at this point. I panted, not knowing if I was doing it. Looking into the mirror, all that stared back was my reflection, with her legs pulled back. I stared into my birth canal opening, where nothing was coming through yet.
I gave another push on the next contraction.
"UUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Two more followed, after which I laid down to rest. I stared at the white ceiling, as I panted. This was more than I thought it would be. I was lying in my bed in my bedroom, all alone, all naked, and struggling to expel my child from my womb.
Feeling another contraction, I bore down again, closing my eyes and clenching my teeth.
"HHHHHHAAAARRRGGGGGGH!" I growled.
"UGH!"
Over the next hour or so, I kept pushing. Pushing. And pushing. This was perhaps the most overwhelming thing I would ever do. Giving birth was a big challenge, but I would do it.
Yet, I was hesitant. Just how long would it take for me to birth my child? I was completely out of it. Then, all of a sudden, there was a tear in my meditative state, followed by an intense, burning sensation. It was as if someone had set fire down there.
"OW!" I burst out. "OWWWWW!"
Tears spilled down my face; it was painful.
I pushed through the pain, hoping to be relieved of it as soon as possible.
"HUUUGGHHH!" I growled. I pushed while my teeth were clenched and my eyes were closed.
I opened my eyes. What awaited me was a surprise.
There in the mirror, I saw that a black spot had appeared in the midst of the opening of my birth canal. I gave a push, and it seemed to widen a bit. My body was finally opening up and allowing my child to come into the world.
"That must be the head," I thought. My baby had apparently inherited the hair color of his/her father.
With another contraction, I gave another push.
The opening of my birth canal stretched and opened up. Feeling another contraction, I clenched my teeth and pushed again. After two more pushes, I rested.
In the mirror, the baby's head appeared to slide back in, as I saw my birth canal close up. I bore down again, bringing the baby's head out once more. Giving another push, I felt my birth canal stretch, as the baby's head progressed.
Every time I pushed, the baby's head progressed, before retracting a bit. The "black dot" in the midst of my birth canal became bigger and bigger, as I crowned the head. The mirror reflected me pushing out my child with all my might, as the baby's head was brought to a full crown.
The intense urge to continue pushing made me deliver the entire head.
l felt the baby's face exiting from between my legs.
I sighed, as I breathed deeply. This was it, almost. I reached down to feel the head. It was full of black hair.
In the mirror, I saw my naked self, with my bare breasts and everything. There was the head of my baby hanging out. All I needed was another contraction or two.
As I felt a renewed urge to push, I closed my eyes and bore down.
"UGH!" I pushed.
"HUUMMMPPHH!" I pushed again.
With one more push, I felt something start to come loose. Looking down between my legs, the baby's shoulders began to pass through, as I gently guided the rest of it out of me.
At last, it was out!
I looked at the baby, it was a girl. Ten fingers, ten toes, and black hair.
Tears began flowing uncontrollably down my cheek, as I sobbed for joy. I kissed the top of her head, and held her tight. There I lay in my bed, having birthed my very first child alone.
It was not long before I delivered the placenta. My daughter began to nurse immediately; I was ready to breastfeed after so much hard work.
I looked into her eyes, "Melody," I whispered.