#BirthAnonAnswers

[birthanon]

🤰2️⃣🏠🖐️🏳️🦵🐢💦

+bad positions (i don’t have the emoji)

For the build a birth game/prompt

Yay my first emoji prompt! Thanks for this, I had fun with it. I don't really do orgasmic births as I said when I reposted this, but I did try to have at least one more pleasurable moment. I hope that fits your ask well enough.

Summary: to earn money for her twins, a woman and her husband stream the birth with a twist, every twenty minutes she has to switch to a different position decided beforehand by the viewers! Contains: fpreg, willing birth denial, pushing the baby back in, a straight couple, streamed birth.

Rebbecah gasped for breath as her latest contraction eased, then sat up slightly on her bed so she could get a better look at her husband, Drew, as he fiddled with camera equipment. 

“You better be ready with that equipment,” she gasped. “‘Cause the baby’s coming.”

“Just a moment,” Drew said. 

Another contraction struck, and Rebbecah moaned, pressing her legs together to try and forestall the massive head that was shifting deep inside her. Still it moved, the pressure on her cervix increasing just slightly.

“There we go.” Drew stepped away from the video camera, which was blinking red. The computer next to it showed what the camera was seeing, Rebbecah sitting on the edge of the bed—her long brown hair tied up in ponytail that had seen better days, her face red with exertion and covered in sweat, the tight red dress she wore, which clung to her enlarged chest and her massive torpedo stomach. The amount of live views was already up to nearly thirty people despite having just started, and was continuing to tick up.

“Hello everyone, welcome to our live birth stream. For those who are new, I’m Drew and this is Rebbecah, as she’s been in labor with our twins since last night. Her water broke an hour ago, and I’ve just confirmed she’s ten centimeters dilated and ready to push! We’ve asked for suggestions for birthing positions, and I’ve gone ahead and picked three per child. The way this is going to work is I’ll call out a birthing position and help Rebbecah get into it, she’ll then have to hold that position for twenty minutes. After which, she can get into any position she wants to finish birthing the child. Think you can do this, Rebbecah?”

It had seemed like a really good idea yesterday, now, already exhausted from hours of labor, Rebbecah was slightly less sure. But this was for her husband, for her fans, and more importantly, to raise money for her children. When they’d budgeted having a kid, they hadn’t planned on two after all.  “Yes,” Rebbecah confirmed.

Drew grinned at her, a large, brilliant smile. “Good, good, and you remember our safe word?”

“Turtle.”

“That’s right. We want to have some fun, but we value your safety and the baby’s safety first. Use it if you need to.” Then Drew turned to the camera again. “As a reminder, all proceeds we get today will go into a college saving fund for the babies. Let’s start with our first position—lotus.”

Rebbecah slowly shifted her weight to the side of the bed and spread her legs, allowing her long, heavy stomach to sink between them.  Then, slowly she rose. Gravity shifted, pulling the baby further down, and she gasped at the sheer weight of the baby’s massive head in her hips. She began to squat down, triggering a contraction, and she couldn’t help but push. The head moved, stretching her, creeping down. So full. She moaned. The contraction eased. 

With Drew’s help, she carefully sat down on the ground. The hard tile floor of their playroom pressed harshly against her overly sensitive crotch as she sat. Then she shifted back so she could cross her legs, and it was a little better. On the plus side, her pussy was not touching the hard floor. Her stomach, low with birth, was, however, resting inside her lap. Everything felt scrunched up. She couldn’t lean back in this position, though her body demanded it. 

“This is good,” Drew said. “Now rest your hands on your knees like you are meditating, and we’ll start the timer.”

That would require shifting her weight from her hands to her legs, moving everything forward even more. It seemed an awful idea, but this had originally been her idea, so she complied. Contractions lasted for about one minute, breaks lasted for about two. She only had to hold this position for about six contractions. She could do that. 

The first contraction came, and she curled up around her stomach, her hands slipping from her knees to hold the firm, contracting orb. She pushed, and gravity helped. The head moved down, still, so deep in her. It eased. She returned to her position, breathing deeply, and making “om” sounds for her audience. 

The next contraction struck, and she pushed through that one, curled around herself. By her third, she was soaked in sweat, her dress stuck to her, tugging at her. Everything felt tight. She needed to lean back, to spread her legs fully, to give herself more space. She needed to escape, claustrophobia making it hard to breathe.

“Please,” she gasped to Drew as the contraction died down. “The dress. Take it off.” 

“All right,” Drew said. “We’re just under half way through our first position, and we’re going to pause real quick for a wardrobe change.”

He knelt by her, warm hands brushing her thighs as he helped shimmy the fabric out from underneath her butt. Then she held her hands over her head and he pulled it off. She felt instantly better. Then, under her direction, he removed her large, black lacy bra, leaving her completely naked. He resumed his station by the phone timer, and she placed her hands back on her knees.

She looked up at the computer facing her and grinned at what she saw. She sat cross legged, hands resting on her knees, her stomach filling her lap, her large breasts hanging down on top of her stomach. Though she was clearly exhausted, she seemed to glow, like some sort of fertility goddess, a mother buddha. 

Then her fourth contraction struck, she watched her stomach visibly sink into herself with the force of her muscles, before she closed her eyes and gave in to her body’s demands, pushing. 

She reached her sixth, gasping, sore and eager to move again, waiting eagerly for the timer to go off, but because of the pause to change clothes, a seven struck while she was still lotusing. She groaned, curling into herself. There was so much pressure, the help of gravity, but her legs weren’t spread enough, there wasn’t enough room.

“And that’s time,” Drew announced, and Rebbecah smiled, satisfied she finished the first twenty minutes and made progress. She spread her legs in relief, stretching them, and grinned as she caught sight of her bulging pussy on the computer, hinting at the size of the head waiting just inside her lips.

“Looks like she made good progress,” Drew commented. “Your next position is hands and knees.”

Rebbacah smiled in relief, and with Drews help, managed to get into the position, her forcefully spread legs making it rather difficult to move. She couldn’t see her progress, but she could see her stomach, hanging down beneath her, nearly touching the ground. This was a far better position, and she was eager to make progress in the next twenty minutes.

The first contraction came, and the difference was immediate, there was far more space, and the baby moved forward, stretching her lips for the first time. She gasped at the sting and stopped pushing for a moment, surprised. Then her body’s demand to push took over, and push she did. The stinging sensation grew. “It’s coming,” she gasped between pushes, “it’s coming!” Then the contraction eased, and the baby slid back. Rebbecah groaned, panting for breath.

The next twenty minutes passed relatively quickly, the head slipping out just a bit more with each push, stretching Rebbecah in ways she’d never been stretched before, and then sinking back into her when she stopped pushing. By the time Drew called time, the head had just begun to stay, a messy bit of dark hair peeking out between her pale, stretched lips.

“I think we’re just about reaching a full crown,” Drew announced. “Wonderful job my dear, are you ready for the third position?”

Her knees were sore, so Rebbecah nodded, distracted by the stretching that was happening down below. Balancing on one hand she reached out with the other, awkwardly around her large bump until she could cradle her child’s head. She whimpered when she accidentally bumped it, sending shooting pains through her body, but smiled as she cupped the emerging head gently in her hand. She was so distracted she didn’t quite process the next position Drew had announced. “Sorry?” she asked.

“Handstand,” Drew repeated. “In the interest of safety, I’ll help you up each time you have a contraction, then once it eases you can go back down into a resting position.”

Rebbecah paled. The baby was right there. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

“Are you going to use your safe word?” Drew asked.

Rebbecah played with the hair on her emerging child’s head, then glanced at the viewer count and the amount raised. They needed more. “No,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Drew tried to help her stand, but she only got about halfway up before her hips protested. She couldn’t do that. Instead, she crawled to the wall, her baby’s head sticking out of her pussy the whole way, rested her head on the pillow Drew had placed for her, and waited.

“Contraction,” she said as her stomach began to tense. Then she kicked, awkwardly, weakly, off the floor. Drew caught her legs,  and pulled them all the way up.

Her legs got forced together in the process, the gravity shifting, and her baby sunk back into her despite the force of the contraction. Rebbecah screamed in pain as her baby kicked in protest. She wanted to reach up and caress her stomach, but she was using her hands to support herself. Her breasts had fallen in her face, dripping sweat and milk across her cheeks.  The agony continued on, the blood rushing to her head, the weight of her over-stretched womb pressing on her lungs. Forget sixty seconds, or even two minutes, it seemed to go on forever. Then, finally, her stomach eased, and Drew helped her feet down, until she curled in a ball around her stomach, panting.

The pain in her crotch had eased. All the progress she’d made in the last twenty minutes erased during a single contraction. She could still feel her baby between her hips, right behind her lips, filling her. Five more, she told herself. 

The baby eased back down between contractions, settling against her lips again. Then her stomach began tightening, shrinking away from her arms and thighs, and Rebbecah gathered herself and kicked off the ground once more. Drew, ever faithful, caught her legs and got her the rest of the way up.

She’d thought this one would be less bad, since she’d already lost her progress. She was wrong. 

She could feel her baby sinking further back, into her birth canal despite her contraction. Groaning, she focused her core and tried to push against gravity. The baby stopped sinking back. She managed to keep it there, just behind her lips, pushing with all her might. As the contraction eased and she was gently brought back to the floor, she even managed to push it out a bit more, the sting of her lips spreading a welcome sensation after the lost process. She felt proud of that progress, right up until the next contraction when it sunk right back in her again..

She was barely aware of herself as he lowered her down after that contraction. As soon as she could think again, she reminded herself that she was half done, three more to go. And then the next struck. It was harder to get up. And she’d barely managed to catch her wits after it, when the next contraction hit. She lost count. Was she done? Did she have more? Her whole being yearned for the alarm. 

Another contraction, surely that had been six already? She was dizzy, exhausted, pushing against gravity just to keep the baby at her lips, then, mid-push, the alarm went off, and Drew thankfully lowered her to the ground. She immediately kept pushing, and the long forestalled baby shot forward, returning to a partial crown in moments.

“That was a tough one, Rebbecah,” Drew said, “But you did it. Now how do you want to finish this birth out?”

Remembering how right it had felt to push while squatting, she chose that, and Drew came up behind her, his warm body pressed against her, supporting her as she fell into a squat, her hips wide, the baby coming out. By the time she’d managed her position, the contraction was upon her. She pushed, grunting in effort, watching herself in the computer as the head slowly, but surely emerged. The nose was just making its exit when the contraction stopped, leaving her gasping, spread at her widest point, her legs shaking with effort and pain.

“It’s coming, one more push, love,” Drew said. 

So she pushed, and with a gush, the head popped free. Dizzy, with relief, She collapsed against Drew, staying only in her squat because he held her there, as the shoulders began to turn. She reached down, holding the head as her pains returned, and she began to slowly push out the shoulders. They were even wider, and took two contractions to get out despite her best pushing, but finally, the baby gushed out of her and began to cry.

��There’s baby number one!” Drew announced. He helped Rebbecah down until she was leaning against the bed, and went to fetch scissors and she held the baby close to her, soothing it. The two of them made the most of the refractory period, then then contractions began again.

“Time for baby number two,” Rebbecah announced, reluctantly handing her first child to Drew. She was exhausted, but the brief break and actually seeing the baby left her feeling revitalized. She could do this again. There wasn’t a position that could be worse than upside-down. “What’s my first position?”

“Tied to the wall,” Drew answered, setting the baby down in a waiting crib and gesturing to the chains which hung on their wall for their more spicy streaming sessions.

With shaking legs and Drew’s assistance, Rebbecah waddled over to the wall, where Drew attached the cuffs to her hands, then pulled the chains taunt, pulling her weight up, off her legs. Then he spread her legs apart and secured them to the wall as well in the leg cuffs. Her arms, tied together above her head, taking most of her weight and restricting her breathing, her legs forcibly spread apart. 

It was uncomfortable, but doable, her contractions came, she pushed, and the baby moved slowly but surely down. Far easier than her first baby since she had already stretched, but she was exhausted, her pushes were less powerful, and so the two forces evened each other out. Being chained to the wall like this was familiar, one of her favorite games, and it allowed her to embrace the pain. She vocalized freely, moaning with each push, feeling the baby spread her wide open, completely lost in the sensation of giving birth.

Drew, meanwhile, was also distracted, answering questions in the chat, watching his baby, and of course his beautiful wife, tied to a wall, her stomach visibility sinking into her with each contraction. She was beautiful, and it made his length ache with desire. So caught up with the sight he was, that he didn’t realize he’d forgotten to set the timer.

It wasn’t until forty minutes later, when the baby’s head began to crown, that he realized his mistake. Quickly, he set his phone to a one second timer, so it would go off. At the sound, Rebbecah’s eyes opened. She smiled, panting. “Seemed to last forever, that one,” she joked. “Baby’s pretty much already born.”

Drew smiled, awkwardly. “You are doing great my love. But you can’t give birth just yet. Still have two positions to do.”

Rebbecah eyed Drew nervously as he drew closer. He reached for her chin, turning her toward him so she could see his smile. She smiled back at him, exhausted.

“I’m so very proud of you,” he said. “You’ve done so amazing.” He leaned in, and kissed her, and she kissed him back, passionately, feeling his hands caress her belly, and then reach down lower, until one cradled her baby’s head. He pressed his lips more insistently against her, his other hand moving up to fondle her leaking breasts. She moaned into his advances, heat pooling between her legs then, with a quick jerk, he shoved her baby’s head back inside her.

She cried out, breaking off the kiss as the agony coursed through her. Her baby kicked, she couldn’t breathe with pain, yet he chased her with his mouth, capturing her lips in another kiss. He stepped away reluctantly, hand dripping with birthing fluids. 

“There now,” he gasped, pink-cheeked and clearly aroused. “You are all ready for your second position—sitting on my lap.”

He untied her, easing her back to the floor, when another contraction hit. Remembering the agony of having the baby shoved into her, Rebbecah tried not to push, and succeeded for only about ten seconds before she gave in, squating instinctively, spreading her legs, grunting with effort, feeling her baby begin to emerge once more.

Drew waited patiently for the contraction to end, then pulled her over to a soft chair before the camera. He sat down, then he eased her onto his lap, so she was facing him. Her naked, gravid stomach pressed up against his well toned abs. He’d removed his shirt at some point, though Rebbecah couldn’t remember when that happened. Then Drew’s hands caught Rebbecah’s hips. One of her legs on either side of his thigh, he pulled her down until her cunt rested directly atop his thigh, naked except his navy blue boxers. She glanced down, noticing his very prominent bulge. “Glad you’re enjoying this,” she said. 

Then a contraction hit. She instinctively used her feet for leverage to pull herself off him to give herself even an inch or so to give birth, but his hands around her waist held her still. After two contractions with zero progress, she gave up trying to escape, and instead leaned into it, grinding against his thigh, trying to chase the agony and exhaustion away with the growing warmth down there.

Each time she shifted back and forth, her stomach rubbed against Drew’s dick through his boxers. He groaned at the sensation, holding her closer and closer, as she pressed down on her thigh. The pain of the contractions was distracting, she couldn’t quite reach an orgasm before getting distracted, but the growing heat was doing something for the pain.

Drew, unfettered by contractions, leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. They were hot, moist, cloying. Enjoyable, and yet at the same time too much. But it was all too much, so Rebbecah leaned into it, pressing down harder searching for release, for something, for anything, to escape the pressing need to give birth.

The alarm went off, but Drew was caught in the moment and didn’t seem to notice, his breathing staggered.

Rebbecah pulled away, gasping. “Drew, the timer. Please. I need to give birth.”

But he chased her lost in his own ecstasy, forcing his lips on her once more. Another contraction hit, and Rebbecah could resist the urge to push no more—she did, feeling her baby press against Drew’s thigh as he finally reached his climax, his breath stuttered, and wetness bloomed across his boxers.

Her contraction was over by the time his breathing had steadied and he managed to stop the timer. Rebbecah took the opportunity to use his shoulders and stand, her legs spread over his. The baby, just behind her lips.

“The last position?” she asked desperately.

“Laying on your stomach.”

That seemed awful, but the pressure at least, would force the baby out faster. She agreed, and he helped her down to her hands and knees, then, carefully, gingerly, she lowered herself down. The force on her stomach ached, then came a contraction. She pushed and the baby jerked forward after being contained for so long. The sudden burning came as a surprise and her shaking arms gave way, dropping her down to the ground, adding to the pressure within her exponentially. With a sudden searing pain, the baby was at a full crown, and it was just the first contraction!

“That was fast,” Drew said. “We can’t have that.”

Quivering, legs spread, laying atop her massive stomach, she waited for the telltale touch of his hands on her. They brushed past her clit, playing there for a moment, then cupped her baby and shoved them in. She cried out, feeling her lips close once again over the child's head. Her vision grayed out a bit, and then she was pushing once more, and the stretching was happening, and the baby was coming out again, the pressure on her stomach was so much. Then his hands, were there again, about the push the baby back in and—

“Turtle!” Rebbecah cried. “Turtle, please. Please don’t.”

Immediately, Drew was there, helping her up, off her stomach, her baby still at a full crown stretching her wide. He helped her exhausted, shaking body back into the squat. A contraction came, she pushed, and the head inched forward. She whined. “Come out, baby, come out.”

“You are doing marvelously, love,” Drew whispered, running hand through her hair. “I am so proud. You are so strong.”

The next contraction came, she pushed again, for a full minute and a half, the baby’s head bobbed in her cunt, unmoving, her stretched, red lips glistening. Then finally, at the next contraction, something shifted, and the head shot out. Her legs gave out at the shock, and Drew eased her gently backwards so she was leaning against him as the shoulders twisted, and then, finally emerged, crying. “We did it,” Rebbecah gasped, smiling, tears streaking her eyes. Then she looked up at the amount of money they’d made. “Wow,” she gasped. “We really did do it. I think we could even afford to have some more.”

[birthanon]

Hey BA!

Loved the story you wrote recently, huge fan of birth denial (as long as no actual harm is done, y’know y’know).

How about a story for a solo birth in nature? I’m a big fan of trying to hold the birth off with nothing but willpower; trying not to push, enjoying the crown. Maybe walking a hiking trail while she pushes.

Hi! I'm so glad you liked it, thanks for reaching out with a prompt! This is definitely a gentler prompt than I've done before, but I enjoyed the variety. Thanks for the opportunity to write this, I hope you enjoy as well!

Also, yee-haw, two birth fics in one day! Trying to get through all the asks people have sent in. I'm so excited to get to everyone's! It might take some time though, so be patient with me!

This fic contains: birth denial, solo birth, unassisted birth, nature birth, fpreg

Sharla had a birthing plan. There was an obscure hiking trail near her that was fairly easy, that ended in a beautiful meadow with a little lake. It was about two miles long, and no one really knew about it. She’d never seen anyone else there in the years she’d hiked the trail. So, as soon as her contractions started getting serious, she got in her car and began her drive. Her plan: hike up the mountain and birth in her favorite spot.

She’d prepared herself well, studying all she needed, practicing breathing techniques. She used them in the car ride up. Once she arrived, she waddled out of the car and headed to the little outhouse. As she used the bathroom, another contraction came. She pushed with it, a small tentative push as the pressure grew. Then, water splattered into the toilet. Water that definitely wasn’t pee.

Well, she thought, This baby’s coming fast. Better get hiking.

She used the toilet paper to wipe herself off, breathed through a contraction in the stall, shaking her hips to ease the pain which seemed far more intense without her waters cushioning everything, then began to head out.

She walked slowly, stopping with every contraction, keeping her legs together to try and help herself to hold off on pushing until she reached her destination. She wore a maternity sundress, so the only thing between her and the outside air was her panties.  It was a crisp spring morning. Beautiful. The birds were singing, and she was out among it where she belonged.

As she walked, she cradled her round belly with both hands, trying to ease the weight of her sore back. And though she didn’t push, her own walking and the power of gravity was slowly pulling the baby down, stretching her little by little as she walked. It was a delicious feeling, painful, yes, but primal, normal. And so long as she didn’t hurry it, her body would be free to stretch as slowly as it needed to.

Things were going well. Sure the baby was moving faster than she’d intended. Sure, with each trail marker she was walking her waddle was becoming more and more distinct. But she was confident she’d make it.

By the time she reached the one mile marker, halfway through the hike, she was feeling less confident. The contractions were coming more and more frequently, and they were hurting more, becoming more insistent. Though she’d managed to not push, her body alone had managed to force the baby all the way through her canal and it was now resting just inside her lips.

She paused at the sign, leaning against it, fishing one of many water bottles from her pack and taking a heft swig. Her hand reached up her dress, feeling at her panties. There was a slight bulge there, but when she slipped her hand inside, she didn’t quite feel a head. 

At least until another contraction hit. She groaned with it. She was bent over, and it made the contraction much worse. Her heavy belly weighing on her belt as it tightened inside her dress. She breathed through the growing demand to push, but still felt the sting of her lips as they began to part, just a tiny bit. Just enough that her finger slipped through and felt a smidge of wet head.

As soon as the contraction ended, she capped her water bottle, and continued walking. Not far down the path, another contraction. She breathed with it, commanding herself not to push, feeling the sting of her lips as they just began to part.

Three contractions later, and she was feeling rather hot. She stopped, leaning against a tree to weather a fourth contraction, then carefully removed her panties and shoved them in her dress pocket. It felt better, without a barrier there. Without the clothing rubbing up against her tender, stretched parts.  She drank some more. Weathered yet another contraction, closing her eyes and moaning with it, her hand resting on her bulging lips, not constraining it, only supporting it.

As soon as it was done though, the baby slipped safely back inside, and she continued her hike. A hawk flew overhead. Bees buzzed in the air. Another contraction, more stretching. She panted. Her body demanded she push. It was getting harder and harder not to listen, but she knew, the second she gave in, her baby would shoot forward, and then she’d never reach the lake. So she breathed, she panted, she moaned, she stretched, but she continued on. Never pushing.

The next contraction was even harder. It stopped her in her tracks. She caught a tree trunk to keep her balance as her body naturally bent, trying to get in a better position to birth. The head eased forward, spreading her even further. She moaned with the pain, thinking, surely, the head must be nearly out. Yet, when she reached down to check, there was only about a square inch of head showing. Good, she thought, continuing her trek.

She focused on the green of the trees, on the fascinating rocks on the trail. Anything, but the growing demand to push. As she reached the marker for a mile and a half, though, she gave in. She stopped, her legs spread, she sunk into a crouch, flustered and sweaty, and pushed, moaning. 

The baby shot forward, searing pain in her lips as they stretched around the sudden crown. She gasped as she noticed her mistake, and forced her legs closer together, nudging the head just a bit back in.  I can’t do that again, she thought. I have to reach the lake.

She was almost there, but the near crown was making walking awfully difficult. The beautiful surroundings were calming, but her hips ached. She reached down, walking with one hand supporting the growing head, feeling it ease forward just a smidge more with each contraction. 

The stretch hurt, but it felt primal, natural, here in the wild, where all things had given birth since the beginning of life. A tree caught her as she stumbled, reaching out its helpful branches, eager to assist the new life. A boulder stood stalwartly as she leaned against it, head spinning, against a particularly strong contraction. The head, ever lower, her legs, ever wider.

Then, finally, just as the head reached a full crown and she was sure she could take not a single more step, she reached the top.

A crystal blue lake, reflecting the perfect sky above, radiant with dazzling light, surrounded by a forest of aspen trees, whispering excitedly to each other in the breeze. 

Gasping in relief, Sharla waddled her way to the edge of the lake. A boulder waited there, providing a perfect companion. She held onto it. As the growing pains of a contraction came, she crouched, pressed her chin to her chest, and, finally, blessedly, pushed.

The head surged forward. She gasped as it surpassed a full crown and shot right out of her, into her hand, water splattering the dirt beneath her. 

Her legs were exhausted, trembling. She needed a new position. First, she checked the cord, making sure it wasn’t around the baby’s neck. No cord, but she enjoyed the tiny softness of the baby’s features.

Then, as the shoulders shifted, she moved. She pulled a tarp from her back pack, still crouched, her baby’s head hanging from her. She spread it by the lakeside, with a flick of her arms. Then, she collapsed back onto it. 

Now leaning against the boulder, she pushed with her next contraction, curling forward, around her round, heaving stomach. Her legs were spread apart, making space for the shoulders, which inched out of her. 

The contraction ended, leaving her heaving for breath. She looked up, watching a bird dive into the water for prey. She watched water twinkle as it fell from the bird’s talons in a cascade of fire-like droplets. Then she went back to pushing, and stretching, just a bit more. One shoulder out.

She leaned back against the boulder once more, grateful for its steady presence. Her baby was cradled in her hand, damp head, one shoulder. She pushed, one last time, curling in on herself, giving it her all, then the baby was out.

Crying in relief, she pulled it from her, and held it against its chest. It was beautiful, it was hers. And her crying turned to laughter, as she sat amongst nature, life’s newest gift safe in her hands.