You all know who I am at this point.
My name is Katniss Everdeen, the darling of Panem. Most of you know that I have had a tumultuous life from the beginning, being born into the poorest district in Panem under the reign of the Capitol, a bloodthirsty regime that starved and brutalized its citizens, forcing all districts to offer up two youths aged 12-18 years old annually to fight to the death before the public, supposedly as a punishment for what happened 58 years before I was born.
I had never thought it would happen to me, but it did. Well, it actually happened to my younger sister, Primrose, who was drafted at the age of 12 years. I volunteered to save her life, and you know the rest of the story, that my acts in the Games sparked a rebellion that led to a full-scale civil war and the overthrow of the Capitol.
Never did I ask for it, but I was called to be the Mockingjay, the icon of the rebellion, and upon request, I was allowed to execute deposed President Coriolanus Snow, but instead killed the new president, Alma Coin, as an act of angry revenge for my sister.
Upon returning home to District 12, I became pregnant. Peeta asked me if I truly loved him, and I said yes.
We did it afterwards for the first time and I became pregnant.
I did say that I never wanted children, but after the overthrow of the Capitol and the creation of a Republic, I had changed my mind. There was hope for the future, at last, that my children could live in peace.
I carried my child throughout the full nine months and gave birth at home unassisted. I never liked the idea of anyone seeing my private parts.
On that day, Peeta was gone on a trip to the Capitol to give a talk in different schools. It was at around 7 AM that I woke up to intense contractions.
This was it, I thought. I spent most of the next hour in the restroom, feeling intense pain and pressure. I clenched my teeth and let out a few screams. With great difficulty, I moved back to my bed where a mirror was right on the wall in front of it.
I took off everything and laid down, pulling my legs all the way back. I looked into the mirror. My reflection stared back. Feeling incredible pain and the urge to push, I bore down into my bottom. Clenching my teeth and closing my eyes, I gave two more pushes on the contraction.
It felt as if I had a terrible urge to go to the restroom. I
I opened my eyes, and looked into the mirror. Nothing, except just my reflection. Another contraction hit and I began pushing again. I clenched my teeth and gave every ounce of strength I had. Looking into the mirror, all that stared back was my reflection, with her legs pulled back.
I saw everything, from my bare breasts and my opening down there. It was going to be a long struggle. I gave another push on the next contraction. Two more followed, after which I laid down to rest.
This birth was taking lots of effort, more than I thought it would be. I had prepared myself a bottle of honey water next to my bed to give myself extra energy if needed.
With another contraction, I gave another push. I felt an intense, burning sensation on my birth canal, as I looked into the mirror. Right down there, I saw a sliver of brown; my baby shared my hair color. Most importantly, I knew that the end was in sight and the baby was almost here. 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 opening close up. I sighed, feeling a bit discouraged. I had worked this hard, only for the baby to slip back in.
I bore down again with the next contraction, feeling all the more determined to deliver my child, bringing the baby's head out once more. Giving another push, I felt my birth canal stretch, as the baby's head progressed.
It seemed that every time I pushed, the baby's head progressed, before retracting a bit. The brown dot in the midst of my birth canal opening 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 push made me deliver the entire head, as I felt the baby's face exiting from between my legs.
I opened my eyes. There it was, right between my legs was my child's head. It was covered with dark brown hair, similar to mine. I reached down and touched the head; it was warm and sticky.
I rested my head on my pillow. I was sweating profusely, but knew that the end was in sight. Within another push or two, the baby would be out.
Following the advice I had received from different sources, I decided to start rubbing my nipples a bit. I was told that such a move would trigger bigger contractions and was often used to help mothers deliver large babies.
After rubbing them for a minute or so, I felt a terribly big contraction.
"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMPPHHHHHHHHHH!" I roared.
I immediately 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 brown hair.
Tears began flowing uncontrollably down my cheek, as I sobbed for joy. I kissed the top of her head, and held her tightly.
She opened her eyes, revealing Peeta's blue orbs. I smiled. What a beautiful baby she was.
It was not long before I delivered the placenta. Taking off my bra, my newborn child began to nurse.
I looked into her eyes, "Hope," I whispered.