“Oh, ah . . . yes. A little,” she stammered, for the only birth she’d ever witnessed had been one of the farm cats having kittens in the spring. “A very little,” she amended.

“We’d better call for Romilda,” Aldo said, his face white with fear.

“The midwife? But what if she says—”

“We can trust her,” Rosa insisted, “and she knows what she’s doing. It will be safer for you and the baby if she’s here.”

At last they reached her room. While Aldo rushed off to fetch the midwife, Rosa helped Nina sit on the bed.

“Let’s get you out of that dress,” said the ever-practical Rosa. “Where’s your nightgown?”

“I only have the one. I’ll soil it,” Nina protested.

“You can’t mean to go through your labor stark naked. I’ll get one of mine.”

“No. Just a sheet is enough. Just—”

More pain, so consuming she could scarcely breathe, let alone speak.

Hours seemed to pass, though it might have been only minutes. It was so hard to think of anything beyond the pain. Romilda arrived at last, coming into the bedroom just as Nina kicked off the covering sheet that Rosa had insisted upon for modesty.

“No, Rosa,” she begged. “I can’t bear it. Don’t put it back.”

“Better that way,” Romilda said cheerily. “Will save on washing afterward.”

The midwife set about unpacking her bag and washing her hands in the bowl of near-boiling water Rosa provided. And then she took a good look at Nina and informed her that the baby would not be born for hours yet.

“I’m glad,” Nina panted, caught up in a contraction. “The baby can’t be born today. Not after . . .”

“No fear of that,” Romilda said briskly. “First babies like to take their time.”

Hour after hour crept past, the pain building higher and higher, the pauses between contractions growing ever briefer. Romilda examined her from time to time, and just as the sky began to brighten into day she announced that it was time for Nina to push.

“Your baby is ready to be born.”

“What do I do? What do I do?”

“Look at me,” Romilda ordered, her tone firm but not unkind. “You know what to do. When your body tells you that you need to push, you’ll take a big breath in, and then you’ll hold it. You’ll hold it, and you’ll push until I tell you to stop. Rosa will help you sit up a little—that will make it easier for the baby.”

She was so tired, and she wasn’t sure she would find the strength to carry on, but she did as they told her, one searing push after another, and just as she was coming to the last of her strength Romilda had her reach down so she might feel the top of her baby’s head.

“One more should do it, Nina—now,” Romilda urged.