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MidReal Story
The Twins' Fate
Scenario:A two tribe africa womens labor pain same time
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Ava
and determined. Ava marries into another tribe, facing the challenges of a new family and cultural surroundings. She gives birth to a boy and a girl, defying the custom of twins being an omen for death. Despite the omen and her husband's fear, she resolves to raise her children, emphasizing their unique bond and her enduring love.
Ava's Father
and caring. He brings wood for Ava's fire and demonstrates traditional ways of preparing meat, showing his willingness to be involved in his grandchildren's lives. His presence supports Ava during times of uncertainty, and he values the unity of his extended family.
Ava's Mother
and loving. She teaches Ava traditional remedies for childbirth and motherhood when she visits after Ava gives birth to her twins. Her presence offers Ava comfort as she navigates her new role as a mother and provides her children with grandparents' love.
My name is Ava, and I'm a woman from a particular tribe in Africa.
I got married to a man from my tribe.
Before having children, my husband and I would sleep together whenever he's not on a hunt.
A year after our marriage, I got pregnant.
My husband was very happy and immediately told his family and friends about my pregnancy.
During those days, it was customary for men to tell their family and friends about their wives' pregnancies even before the stomach begins to show.
It was also the custom for the woman to stay with her parents until she gives birth.
When the time of birth approaches, the woman's mother would come stay with her for some weeks to teach her how to take care of newborns.
It is also the custom for the woman's mother to teach her how to make traditional remedies for the child when it has a fever or stomachache.
After two months of carrying, I began to feel the child's movements.
It was during this time that my husband began to make preparations for our child's arrival.
He bought clothes and toys for the child while I began making traditional toys for the child to play with when it comes out.
My husband would also tell me stories about our ancestors and how they were brave hunters who brought back meat for their families.
I sit weaving a small basket in our hut when a sharp pain grips my lower belly.
The sensation is unlike anything I've felt before - tighter and more intense than the practice contractions that have been happening for weeks.
I grip the half-finished basket, my knuckles white, waiting to see if another pain follows.
When it does, I know this is different.
"Mika!"
I call out for my husband, who is repairing fishing nets outside.
My voice wavers, betraying the nervousness that has been building inside me.
He rushes into the hut, dropping his work on the floor.
The sight of his concerned face both comforts and worries me.
Another contraction hits, and I grab his hand, squeezing it as the pain peaks.
Mika helps me to the birthing mat in the corner of the hut, his hands trembling as he supports my weight.
I lower myself into a squatting position, gripping the wooden post we installed months ago for this moment.
The contractions come faster now, each one more intense than the last.
I rock back and forth, trying to find some relief from the pain.
Sweat drips down my face, and I feel Mika's cool hand on my forehead, wiping it away with a damp cloth.
"Kato," he calls out to our young son, who has been playing outside.
"Go fetch the midwife."
I close my eyes, focusing on my breathing.
In, out, in, out - just like my mother taught me.
But it's harder than I thought it would be.
The pain makes it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
I feel Mika's hand on my back, rubbing gently in small circles.
"Ava, there's something I need to tell you," Mika says, his voice barely above a whisper.
"What is it?" I ask, trying to focus through the haze of pain.
"I spoke with the elders, and they said our child is destined for something great, something beyond our tribe."
The midwife arrives, her weathered face a picture of calm.
She checks my progress and nods.
"It's time," she says, her voice firm and reassuring.
I grip the wooden post harder, my legs trembling from squatting for so long.
The pressure builds in my pelvis, like a wave about to break.
Another contraction hits, and I bear down with all my might.
"Push, Ava," the midwife commands, her voice steady and strong.
Mika supports my back, his hands firm on my shoulders as I strain against the pain.
Sweat drips down my face, and I feel like I'm being torn apart from the inside out.
But I can't give up now.
I need to push through this pain and bring our child into the world.
I gather all my strength and push again, feeling the baby move lower in my body.
The burning sensation increases, but I don't stop.
I keep pushing until I feel the baby's head crowning.
"One more push," the midwife says, her voice urging me on.
I bear down with all my strength, feeling the searing pain rip through me.
The midwife's hands guide our first baby out - a boy, his cries filling the hut.
But instead of relief, another contraction grips me.
"There's another!" the midwife exclaims, her voice filled with surprise.
Mika's face drains of color as I start pushing again.
My legs tremble violently against the wooden post.
This second baby moves slower, each push bringing waves of agony that make me cry out in pain.
I dig my fingers into Mika's arm, feeling his tension as he tries to support me.
"Keep pushing," the midwife urges, her voice steady and encouraging.