Page 79 of DATE
Lorenzo, waiting anxiously, asked, "How is Clarice?"
"She’s fine, she’s drinking soup!" Hedy replied, her face pale as she looked down at the baby, her breath halting.
Why isn't he crying?
Why isn’t he crying?!
She checked the baby's mouth for any obstructions, then adjusted his position and gave his bottom a gentle slap.
If he didn’t cry soon, it would mean severe oxygen deprivation, and the consequences would be disastrous.
As soon as her hand made contact with his bottom, the baby let out a loud, strong cry.
The midwife looked at her in surprise, and Hedy realized what had just happened. Holding the baby carefully, she explained seriously, "This is a blessing to God."
The others nodded in agreement, and they began to assist in helping Clarice sit up.
Outside, rockets soared into the sky in spirals, children praying for a safe and successful birth for their mother.
Although people in this era didn't have sterilization techniques or professional obstetric care, they surprisingly knew how to stitch up torn wounds.
They cleaned the area with alcohol and butter, carefully stitching up the tear with three stitches, all without the need for anesthesia.
—Modern methods might not even need it because the pain of childbirth already overshadowed everything else.
Hedy finally sighed in relief, then took a warm towel to wipe Clarice’s neck and body.
Clarice, weak and exhausted, reached out to touch her. Her voice was faint and frail, "Is... is the baby healthy?"
"Very healthy, his cry is loud and strong." Hedy took her hand and instinctively said, "If you continue having children like this... it’s really bad for your health..."
There could be prolapsed uterus.
"I... I don't know what to do." The usually composed and gentle lady showed an expression of despair. "Every time, just after giving birth, if I sleep with him, I get pregnant again."
She almost had to endure this pain every year. The previous set of twins had died early, and now, the complications with this onehad her stuck halfway through childbirth, as though trapped in a nightmare.
Hedy carefully helped her drink warm salted water, then instinctively asked, "Don’t you... use contraception?"
"I’ve always... kept a weasel’s testicle in my nightgown pocket," Clarice slowly closed her eyes. "But it doesn’t work."
Hedy gently helped her lie down and rest. It took her a moment to process everything.
It was terrifying...
If she were to get married and have children in this time, one wrong move and she might die here.
After finishing her bath and changing, Hedy returned to find a smiling older woman handing her a money pouch.
"The lord has given everyone some reward money! And told us to throw away those hooks!" the woman said with a wide smile.
Hedy didn’t want to ask what the hooks were used for, instead turning her attention to the baby soundly asleep in the cradle.
"What's his... name?"
"Giuliano di Lorenzo de' Medici," the elderly woman replied with a nostalgic expression. "It’s the name of the lord’s brother."
Hedy froze for a moment, suddenly remembering the blood-red Mass from last April.
