The Birthing

Volva Vigga had been meandering - musing
Along her preferred path near the village
Soaring seedtime had appeared somewhat late
Today is was the vernal equinox
with tonight a luminous full Luna,
An ominous day where she had to collect
The first flower that she saw in the thicket
It was an anemone - that bright blossom
With its white purple crown.
Cried out in her muddled mind
- her Shmuel - the father of her child
would not be there for the birthing.
With a sigh and a slight moan
She sat down heavy - as she was
On an old oak tree stump
Surrounded by a circular copse.
Her trusty cape was around her full body
in her pocket she had little ring
That Shmuel, the herbalist, gave her.
The ring was too small now
For her swollen fingers
But she kept it with her at all times
So she would have a tangible symbol
Of her summer in the North
Apart from the gift she was bearing
For nine lunar months, this being her tenth.
As she was sitting breathing deeply
The sun came out of the clouds
And the wood spoke of early and earthy
joy and pleasure of being vitally alive.

The waiting Volva sensed a particular pain
Suddenly it became utterly unbearable
Realizing that not only did she feel agony
All over her lower back body
But she also sat in a puddle of birth-water.
Slowly, she raised herself holding on
with one hand to the thick tree trunk
while massaging her back with the other.
She had to get back to the hut
But it was a fair distance away
She was not sure she would reach
The domed dwelling of security
And she started to pant and puff
So she could beat the birthing pains.
Her mind was not cooperating
She was thinking of Shmuel
And of their last passionate night.
Vigga the Volva talked sternly to herself
As she found a bough she could lean on
Waddling when she had another contraction.
At the end of the pain all she could think of
Were the numerous orgasms she had had.

How far did she have to walk -?
And she knew very well - all the way back
Because her hut was a hermitage
Being fairly far from everybody's hovels
And the village - preferring freedom
To roam and gather healing herbs
Yet now it seemed foolish and frankly
She would not have minded a home
In the little gentle village with the green
Where she and Shmuel first met.
Strange how you could change
In such a short stretch of time.


Her skirt and her cape weighed her down
Because of the wetness from the birth-water
The stretch of road seemed too far
In addition the dampness was now cold
The wind adding to the high skies
Another pain seized her tortured torso
She had to stop and breathe in and out
Slowly while the travails took their toll
She found another tree - she leaned over
And again she cried out not knowing
That she made a savage primitive sound
Heard by all the ancients so many eons ago
She called up her gray grannies - the stones -
and they sent her an unusual messenger.

Somebody who had made true amends
The one who had truly repented his misdeeds
So her old nemesis - the man - who raped her
Came to her rescue whether sent by
Ancient powers or new ones or accidentally.
He had been sent on an errand by his new master
- An elderly magician who needed filling
Of life-saving essences in his medicine larder
Via the healing woman with whom
The wintry wizard sometimes scribed.
The latter had sent a letter so the demale
Could bring back the much needed herbs
To the outskirts of the Northern Hebrides.

Vigga was at her wits end - kneeling down besides
Another trunk lying in the woodsy underbrush
Her screams rang through the woodland
And she was no longer human, but feral
Frenziedly she became a female mammal
Due to her strong first-time birth pangs

Last time she howled when he raped her
This time when he heard her scream
here and now the demale had changed
He felt nothing, but compassion and a need
To help whoever wanted his hands
The healing woman had taught him that
And the wizard he worked for
Stressed that only through bettering
You yourself will have a harmonious
And happy awareness of accomplishment.

He ran to where from he heard her screams
He already knew it had to be her.
Vigga the Volva who with her sister had
Spared his life, but not his manhood.
He did not hold that against her
Because he knew now that taking a woman
Against her will at any time is a crime.

Vigga the Volva was kneeling holding on
To a strong beech branch lying in the forest
She held her other hand behind her back
crouching and leaning close to the ground.

"Let me help you," were the eunuch's first words
And Vigga recognized with terror in her eyes
Her old perpetrator whom she had spared.
"I come in peace and I can get you home
For you to deliver a healthy child.
If you cannot make it, the healing woman
Has had me help her many a time."
He knelt down and began to gently rub her back.

Again against her will another birthing pang
Jilted her fear of her former evildoer
And she let him stroke her lower back
Due to her excruciating parturition pains
She panted, "I cannot bear it."
"Sure you can - you are part of the chain
You of all people should know that."
"Yes but I..." another pulsation hindered
Her speech - she suddenly passed out.

The eunuch briskly spread out his cape
On the grass and revived the Volva by
Pouring water from his full flask
over her head and slapping
Her face not too gently -
He knew she was getting weaker
But it was also a matter of the child
She sputtered as she came through


In contrast to the last time he violated her
He gently lifted her dress and pulled off
Her panties wet from the water already gone.
"Spread your legs, I see the head coming,
Can you stand?" "Why should I stand?"
"You will use the gravitational forces!"
Vigga the Volva strived to get up
Yet, for her it was impossible
The eunuch then saw that the pressure
Labor pains had begun heavily
"Alright, we do it this way, then
Next time you have a labor pain
I will feel around inside to see
If I can ease out the bitsy bairn."

He then used the last water he had in his canteen
Over his hands - to try and be fairly clean
Such as he has learned from the healing woman
He sought again - he had some olive oil left.

The labor pains continued - he inched in her insides
Realizing the bairn had the cord around its neck.
Sweat ran down his temples but he relived
How once he had seen the Healer save a child
And to make amends he prayed to his Gods
The old spirits and even the old grannies
He knew there was not a moment to waste
And by the next labor pain he twisted his hand
Inside the womb again and forcefully, but gently
Freed the bairn's head getting his finger
Between the neck and the pulsating cord
"Push one more time and the bitty bairn will out"
Vigga the Volva was beyond care except obeying
Ancient rites of birthing letting her body take over.
By the next throbbing contraction the child slid out,
- Slime and blood - the eunuch caught it, a little lass
And he found some piece of cloth used for storage
Of herbs and spices and swaddled the child,
Gently swiping the bairn's mouth clean with
His little finger - now dipped in mint oil -
And gave her to Vigga the Volva, saying
"Let her suckle. That will help the afterbirth
To come - and you know it can hurt too"

Vigga took - her daughter - in her arms
Looked at her with such wonderment.
She, now a mother, turned around on the side,
Opened her blouse and eased the suckling
On to her swollen breast.

The eunuch smiled, but pressed down
On the Volva's now empty womb
Urging the important afterbirth to come.
The pains were extremely excruciating
But Vigga the Volva bore them
Because from this time on she held something
So precious and dear that nothing else
Could compare to her cherished child.
Before the afterbirth came
She shifted the bairn to the other breast
And looked so calm - in pain
The eunuch stared in wonderment
Bewildered at his own feelings.

"It's coming," and again lots of blood
and a stiffening placenta slid out.
The eunuch knowingly caught it
The healing woman would like to see it
He had again rummaged in his sack
Sacrificing a sermon he wanted to read.

"You will be getting too cold soon
So I shall go and get a cart to carry
You and the wee one, but I am sorry
To leave you alone unprotected."
"It will be alright if you go and find
The gurney, I do not think I can walk
Or at least not that far - today.
Master Healer - Thank you for being here."
Vigga the Volva beamed brilliantly
At him and then at her daughter.
"I shan't be long. - Do you still have your knife?"
"Aye, that I have" was her proud answer.
"You have now fully redeemed your deed
and I wish for you to return to your manhood"
"I wish so too, one day, but not the way I was."
He bowed slightly and smilingly said
" 'will be back shortly, Be safe "

While the eunuch was gone the Volva
Talked to the ancient ones out loud
"Protect my daughter from harrowing harm
Let her have a cheery character
And may she one day meet her father.
I thank ye all for sending a rescuer
I from this day forth forgive him his dire deed
May he one day get back his manhood".
The blossom that she had picked
Earlier - the white and purple anemone
She took each leaf of the crown
Tossed it around herself and her newborn
Chanting silently ancient incantations
Not wanting to wake the sleeping suckling
at her motherly breast - Her sight showed:
A vernal equinox awaiting tonight
With an illuminating Luna over her hearth
Surrounded by Sophia, the Healing Woman
If she had nothing else to do, the Eunuch,
And in her arms her darling daughter Gemma Sarah.