In French

Chapter Sixteen

    I was awoken by pains in the morning that cramped from my lower abdomen rolling down my thighs. The pains weren’t particularly close together but when I went through the third bout I decided to wake Philip. He was groggy and at first tried to dismiss me but I wasn’t about to give up so readily. “Philip, Philip, please. I don’t know what to do. What shall I do?”

    “I will go get the palace doctor and Comtesse DeGeneres,” he grumbled before rolling out of bed. Pushing myself into a sitting position and resting my hand on my stomach, I flung prayer after prayer up to the Mother Mary.

    Chaney barrelled in when Philip was gone, I told her what was happening. “I think it is time, Your Highness.” She had smiled, drawing back the curtains permitting the early traces of dawn to spill into the room. Chaney was just leaving when Philip came back a little het up, snapping, demanding to know what she was still doing lingering in our chamber.

    She practically dropped to the floor, “Beg your pardon Your Majesty.” She hurried out where the doctor and Comtesse DeGeneres rushed in taking her place.

    Some of the Dauphin’s man servants came and got him dressed appropriately while the doctor checked that I was alright. “Yes,” he nodded standing up straight, “I do believe that the time is upon us. We will have a new little royal in a short time.”

    The Comtesse dashed off to inform the King, Queen, other royals and courtiers and all too soon the room was becoming awfully crowded. Philip stood as close as he was permitted, shifting around restlessly, fidgeting more each time a contraction hit me. When the King made his entrance everyone dropped to the floor before getting up, chattering away, fanning themselves, cracking jokes and hoping for a boy.

    It was a fairly long labor that stretched on past the morning well into the afternoon before my waters broke and everything began to gain momentum. The contractions became more frequent with less time and as a midwife dabbed at my brow I wanted to cry. I was scared, not knowing what to expect and in a lot of rolling pain that was much more than when I had lost the my first baby. It just kept coming on and on, in a relentless kind of way. I hated how I had become some kind of spectacle with the courtiers and everyone staring, waiting and gossiping about me as I lay on a bed trying to give birth. “When you feel the urge to push, Your Highness, I would like you to do so. Follow your body.” The doctor told me calmly so during the next contraction I pushed down as arduously as I could. Cool water was constantly dabbed at my brow.

    “Josepha,” I whimpered quietly as the contraction ceased and I was provided three seconds of practically no pain. The agony was almost delirious it became too much.

    Catching a glimpse of Philip I saw that his forehead was creased in concern as he tried to make eye contact with me. He gave a flickering smile of support but that was about all he could do. My face scrunched up in pain and concentration when I next pushed, this guttural moan escaping from between my lips. It was quite unlike me. “Good girl,” the doctor muttered as he stared up my shift with an expression of utter attentiveness and professionalism. “You’re going to have to keep pushing the next time, ok? I want you to try and breathe while you do it.” I listened and a long, quiet noise groaned from the back of my throat as I tried to breathe and deliver at the same time. “The head!” He announced so that the room became shushed as I kept pushing, finally, he pulled the baby out and I lay there panting, my hair drenched in sweat with my chest heaving from the effort. My body ached and lying there in sweat I felt quite tender.

    The doctor tied off the umbilical cord as everyone waited for the announcement of the sex. “Boy!” The room erupted with people cheering and soon I could hear bells chiming and clanging from all over the place. While my baby was cleaned the midwife massaged my stomach for the afterbirth, once delievered was disposed of as well.