A Secret Between Us

Chapter 18: The Long Road

The clock on the nightstand read 3:12 when the next wave hit. Astrid rolled onto her left side and made a long, low sound into the dark, and Shane was there before the sound finished, his palm flattening against her lower back, pressing with her breath the way Rosa had drilled into them weeks ago.

"In through your nose," Rosa called from the kitchen chair she had claimed hours ago, her voice a flat, steady drumbeat through the doorway. "Four counts. Out longer than in. Six out."

Astrid breathed. Her belly was enormous between her and the mattress, propped on two pillows, and under Shane's hand her spine softened one vertebra at a time. Across the bed Dina was riding her own wave, lips parted, one hand fisted in the sheet, Leo kneeling behind her with his mouth pressed to her bare shoulder and both hands cupped under her belly.

"That's it," Leo whispered into her skin. "Ride it down. Ride it down, sweetheart."

Dina exhaled through pursed lips, a long shuddering sigh, and the wave crested and passed. She opened her eyes and found Astrid's across the tangle of pillows. "Six minutes," she said. "That one came at six minutes again."

"I know. I felt mine land on top of yours."

Shane's thumb stroked a small circle at the base of Astrid's spine. "You're soaked through," he murmured, and there was no judgment in it, only the low pleased register he saved for exactly these moments. "Rosa said soft."

Rosa appeared in the doorway, hoodie rumpled, a mug of something that had long gone cold in her fist. She looked at the two women, then at the men, and said what she had been saying every hour since her water had broken Astrid's night wide open. "Cervix responds to oxytocin. Oxytocin comes from feeling good. Nobody's asking you to run a marathon on fear and hope alone. Use your husbands or use each other, keep it slow and easy, and stop when a contraction takes over."

"You keep saying that like it's simple," Astrid muttered into the pillow.

"It is simple. You're a lawyer. Bill it as research." Rosa went back to her chair.

Astrid laughed, and the laugh pulled a groan out of her as her belly tightened again, the fluid still seeping slow and clear onto the towel Shane had layered beneath her. She reached back and found his hip, tugged. "Come here. Just like last time. Nothing hard. I want you behind me the whole way through."

Shane shed his sweatpants and settled against her back, careful of her belly, and she guided him into her with a sigh that turned to a moan halfway out of her throat. His forearm slid under her belly and took its full weight, the way she loved, the way made her feel carried instead of heavy. He moved slowly, deep and unhurried, his chest against her spine, his mouth finding the damp curl of hair at her neck.

"There," she breathed. "God, right there. Just keep doing that."

Dina watched from six inches away, propped on her side, Leo's hand moving in slow strokes between her own thighs. "She sounds so pretty," Dina said, and her voice had gone thick. "Look at her face, Shane. She does this little thing with her eyebrows right before she's close."

"Dina," Astrid huffed, half a laugh, half a plea.

"It's true. You do."

The contraction rolled in before Astrid could argue. Shane felt it first, her body clenching around him, and he stopped moving and held her, palm flat on her belly, lips at her ear counting the breath with her. In, four. Out, six. The wave crested and he started moving again the moment her shoulders dropped, and Astrid made a sound into the dark that was pure animal contentment.

"Keep going," she whispered. "Don't you dare stop."

"I wasn't planning to." Shane's teeth grazed her ear. "You feel incredible. Even now. Especially now."

Across the bed Dina was shaking. She had taken Leo's fingers deep and was rocking her hips against them, her free hand clamped over Astrid's, the two of them connected palm to palm through every wave now, a habit that had started as a joke and become the thing they could not do without. Leo kissed the top of her spine. "Tell me what you need."

"Slower. Slower and keep going even when I squeeze your fingers half to death." Dina's breath hitched as her own contraction began, her grip crushing Astrid's hand, both women riding the crests together, seconds apart, their bodies doing the same impossible work. "Oh, oh, fuck, Leo, yes, right there, don't move, don't you move."

"Never," Leo said. He held her through it, his arm a bar across her middle, her slick heat gripping his fingers as the wave crested and broke. When it passed she was panting, and he slid into her from behind with the same slow careful depth Shane was giving Astrid, and Dina's eyes rolled back and she moaned Astrid's name by accident, which made Astrid laugh until the laugh turned into her own moan.

The hours thickened. The room smelled of warm bodies and clean fluid and the vanilla candle Shane had lit before midnight. Astrid came once, quietly, her whole body rippling, milk beading and running warm onto the towel under her, and Shane groaned at the feel of her and held himself back, jaw tight, because she had told him an hour ago not to come yet, that she needed him steady. Dina came after her next contraction, crying a little, laughing at herself for crying, and Leo buried his face in her hair and breathed with her.

At 4:40 the quality changed.

Astrid felt it first as pressure. Not a wave rolling in from far away anymore but something bearing down from above, heavy and low, like a hand inside her pushing. Her moan on the next contraction was different too, lower, rougher, a sound that came from somewhere beneath thought. Shane's hand went still on her back.

"Rosa," he called, and his voice cracked in the middle.

She was already coming through the doorway. She knelt at the foot of the bed, pulled the sheet back, and checked Astrid with quick, practiced fingers while the wave crested and Astrid bore down against it without meaning to, a deep involuntary grunt.

"Don't push yet," Rosa said, calm as arithmetic. "Breathe the pressure out. You're at eight. Eight centimeters."

The room changed. It sharpened the way a room sharpens when a storm crosses some invisible line. Shane sat up fully. Leo reached over and turned on the lamp, and the golden light caught the sweat on Astrid's collarbones and the wide dark stare Dina turned on her friend.

"Eight," Astrid repeated. Her voice shook. "It's real. It's actually happening."

"It's been real for hours, honey. Now it's just getting honest." Rosa stood and shed the hoodie. Underneath was the flannel she always wore to births. "Dina, come here. Let me check you too, since you two insist on doing everything together."

Dina laughed, breathless, and let Rosa check her while Astrid's hand held hers so hard their rings bit. Rosa's eyebrows lifted. "Six for you. Doing beautifully. You'll follow her soon." She looked down at Astrid, who was gripping Shane's wrist through the beginnings of another wave. "No more sex now, Astrid. Lip's going to be gone in an hour. Breath and hands only."

"Fine," Astrid gasped. "Fine. Shane, hands. Both hands on my back. Dina, don't let go."

"I'm not letting go." Dina's thumb stroked across Astrid's knuckles. "I've got you. I'm right here. We're doing this together, remember? You promised me you'd hold my hand and I promised you the same and I do not break promises to lawyers."

The wave hit and Astrid bore down against the bed, that low animal sound tearing out of her, and Dina made the same sound seconds later, and the two voices braided together in the lamplight while Rosa counted and the men pressed and the house that two apartments used to be held all of them in the dark like cupped hands.

"Six out," Rosa said. "Again. Four in, six out. Good. Again."

Astrid came back up from the wave with her hair plastered to her cheek and her eyes blazing, and she looked straight at Dina across the pillows. "Eight centimeters," she said. "Your water's next. I can feel it, I swear I can. You always copy me."

"Shut up," Dina said, and squeezed her hand, and started to smile, because the next contraction was already rolling in and her water broke in a warm rush across the sheet at its peak, and Rosa did not even look surprised.

Dina's laugh was already turning into a gasp when the rush soaked the sheet beneath her, warm and sudden, and she stared down at herself as if someone else's water had landed on her. "Oh. Oh, that's. That's really mine, isn't it."

"That's really yours." Rosa pulled the wet sheet back and checked her quickly, her fingers sure and unhurried. "Clear. You're doing beautifully, both of you. Dina, you're seven now. That one cost you a centimeter."

"Seven," Dina repeated, and her voice came out small. Then she looked at Astrid, and the smallness burned off. "Your water broke at the peak of my contraction and now mine broke at the peak of yours. We're actually doing this together. Like we said."

"We said we'd match. We didn't say we'd match this close." Astrid's hand tightened. The next wave was already gathering in her lower back, a slow deep yawning that started behind her sacrum and rolled around her hips like a hand closing. She felt it and named it and did not panic. "Rosa. It's coming."

"Then ride it. Hands, Dina. Hold her hands and look at her and breathe. Whatever you say to her, say it slow."

Dina got herself up on one elbow. The lamp light caught the sweat on her temples, the deep flush on her collarbones, the way her belly stood round and tight beneath her. She took both of Astrid's hands in both of hers and leaned in until there was no space between them but the air they were sharing, and she said, "Look at me. Look at my face."

Astrid looked. Her eyes were dark glass. The contraction rose and crested and she made a sound that was not a word and not a moan, something animal and open, a low continuous vowel that went on and on, and Dina made the same sound at the same moment, their voices braiding together in the lamplight like they had been trained for it.

"That's it," Dina said, and her voice shook but did not break. "That's it, Astrid. You're already at eight. You're halfway done and you're doing it without an epidural and you're doing it while holding my hand, do you understand me, you're a goddamn warrior."

Astrid's moan cracked into a sob. "It hurts, Dina."

"I know it hurts. I know." Dina's thumbs stroked across her knuckles, over and over, the only steady thing in the shaking room. "But you told me you were scared of losing control and look at you, you're not losing it, you're choosing where it goes. You're choosing to give it to me. So give it to me. Give me all of it."

Behind Astrid, Shane's palms pressed flat against her lower back, counting with her breath, and his voice came through the noise like a rope. "Four in. Six out. You're breathing through it, baby, I can feel you doing it."

Astrid's eyes did not leave Dina's. The contraction crested like a dark wave and she rode it, her mouth open, her whole body bearing down against the bed, and the moan that came out of her was low and round and endless, and Dina moaned it back to her like an answer, like a language they had been building for months.

"I've got you," Dina said. "I'm right here. You promised me you'd hold my hand and I promised you the same and I do not break promises to lawyers. You're the strongest woman I know and you're going to meet your baby so soon and I'm going to be right here when you do and we're going to do it together like we said."

Astrid's grip cut off the blood to her fingers. Her face went tight and red and her body clenched into one long shudder and then the wave passed, all at once, the way they always did, and she collapsed back onto the pillows with a sound that was half sob, half laugh. "Holy shit."

"You did that." Dina was crying. She did not know when she had started. "You did that and you looked me in the eye the entire time and you did not run away from it, Astrid. You're amazing."

"I did it because you were there." Astrid pulled Dina's hand to her mouth and kissed her knuckles, tasting salt. "You gave me something to hold onto. I could hear your voice over the pain."

Rosa was at the foot of the bed, hands flat on her knees. "That was a one-minute contraction. Full minute. You both rode it together without breaking eye contact once. If you can keep doing that, you can do anything."

Shane's voice came rough from behind Astrid, his forehead pressed to her spine. "You two are the most incredible thing I've ever watched."

"Seconded," Leo said. He was kneeling at Dina's side, his hand pressed flat to her belly, his face buried in the curve of her shoulder, and his voice was wrecked. "Thirded. I don't know how many people are in this room, I just know I agree with all of them."

Dina laughed, a wet wobbling sound, and then her eyes went wide.

"Oh. Oh no."

"What is it," Leo said.

"That one was different. That was. That was not a wave."

Rosa was already moving, sheet in her hand. "Let me see you."

But Dina was looking at Astrid, and Astrid was looking back, and whatever passed between them did not need words. Dina's hand went to her belly and her face went deep red and she said, "It's the pushing one. The pressure one. It feels like my whole body wants to bear down."

"You're seven," Rosa said. "You're not ready to push. You breathe it out like Astrid did, you don't let your body take over if you can help it. Mouth open, panting breath, like blowing out a candle."

Dina shook her head. "I can't, it's coming, it's coming right now, oh god, Astrid—"

"Look at me." Astrid got herself up onto her elbow, the weight of her belly shifting with her, and took both of Dina's hands again. Her voice had gone low and steady, the lawyer's voice, the one that settled courts. "Look at my face. Breathe with me. In through your nose, four counts. Out through your mouth, six. That's it. That's exactly it. You copy me and I'll copy you and we'll get through the whole thing that way, one breath at a time, until they hand us our babies."

Dina's eyes locked onto hers. The contraction hit her like a wall and she bowed over her belly, her mouth open, the long low animal groan tearing out of her throat, and Astrid made the same sound at the same moment, because her own body had not waited for permission.

They held each other's gazes through it. The two men pressed their palms to lower backs. Rosa counted. The room smelled of sweat and birth and the vanilla candle burning low on the nightstand, and the two women moaned together, one voice made of two throats, and when the wave finally crested and broke, they were both crying and both laughing and both still holding on.

"Seven and a half," Rosa said. "That one bought you another half centimeter, Dina. Both of you. You two are doing the work of one woman each and somehow you're doing it faster together."

"Of course we are," Dina breathed, and collapsed back. "We're better together. Everyone knows that."

Astrid laughed. The laugh turned into a groan as her next one started. She did not let go of Dina's hand.

The laugh turned into a groan before it finished. Astrid felt the wave start low and deep, not rolling in from far away but rising up from underneath, a slow inexorable pressure that pushed down through her whole pelvis like a hand opening inside her. Her grip on Dina's hand went white.

"Oh," she said, and the word stretched into a vowel that went on and on. "Oh god, Dina, it's coming, it's the big one, it's coming right now."

"Then give it to me. Give me that mouth. Open it wide and give it to me."

Astrid's jaw dropped open and the sound that came out was not a word. It was a long, low, animal moan, pure and unbroken, starting somewhere in her chest and pouring out through her throat in one continuous drawn-out note. Her back bowed off the bed. Her belly stood round and tight. Her body was squeezing, bearing down, and she could not stop it.

Then, half a second later, Dina's mouth opened too.

Her contraction came up under her exactly the same way, a deep rising pressure that pushed down and down and down against her cervix, and the groan that tore out of her was the same note, the same key, both women's voices slamming together like they had been waiting their whole lives to sing this particular song. They held each other's gazes and moaned together, a doubled sound, low and endless, going on and on, past any breath either of them should have had.

"That's it," Rosa said from the foot of the bed. "That's the bearing-down pressure. Don't push into it. Blow it out. Pant it out. Mouth open, jaw loose, let it come out as sound instead of strength."

Astrid could not answer. The pressure was enormous, a whole-body clenching that started at her ribs and rolled down through her hips, and the moan was the only thing she could give it. She gave it everything. Her throat went raw. Her face went dark red. She could feel the baby pressing down, a huge weight behind her pelvic bone, and she moaned through it, longer and deeper than she had ever moaned in her life.

Dina was doing the same. They were doing it together, as close as two people could be, their foreheads almost touching, their hands locked so hard that both their knuckles had gone white. Leo's palms pressed flat to Dina's back. Shane's palms pressed flat to Astrid's. The two men breathed with them, their mouths open, making low sounds of their own that wove under the women's moans like a ground bass.

The pressure peaked and held. The room went silent except for the sound of two women moaning in unison, a single long drawn-out cry that went on for what felt like a minute. Rosa's mouth moved, counting, but they could not hear her. There was only the pressure and the sound and each other.

Then the wave broke.

Astrid collapsed backward onto the pillows, gasping, soaked in sweat and fluid, her whole body trembling. Dina fell forward onto her forearms, her face in the sheets, her shoulders heaving.

"Fuck," Astrid whispered, and her voice was wrecked. "Fuck, that one. That one was something else."

"That was transition pressure," Rosa said. She had her gloves on now and moved between them. "That was the pressure of a woman whose body is telling her it's time. Astrid, I'm checking you. Don't move."

Astrid lay there, chest heaving, while Rosa worked. Across the bed Dina had lifted her head, her dark hair stuck to her cheeks, her eyes glassy and huge.

"You okay," Dina breathed. It was not a question. It was a hand held out.

"Yeah." Astrid's hand found hers again. "Yeah, I'm okay. You?"

"I think my whole body turned inside out."

"Me too."

Rosa's fingers withdrew and she looked up with an expression that was almost amused. "Ten centimeters, Astrid. You're complete. You're ready to push."

The words landed like stones in a still pool.

Astrid's eyes went wide. Shane's hand went still on her back. Leo looked up from Dina's shoulder with a face gone suddenly pale.

"Complete," Astrid repeated. "Ready. That means it's time."

"It means your body says it's time. First babies take a while sometimes, but your body is ready to push and you're allowed to push when the urge comes. You don't fight it anymore. That pressure you just felt? The next one, you go with it."

Across the bed, Dina's face changed. Her hand closed on Astrid's like a vice and her mouth opened and the moan that came out of her was suddenly different, higher, straining, a sound of pure involuntary bearing-down effort.

"Oh," she said. "Oh no, oh god, that's the urge. That's the pushing urge. It's happening to me too, it's coming, it's coming right now—"

"Then you push," Rosa said. "You push with it. Both of you. Don't hold back. Give your bodies everything you've got."

The contraction hit Astrid like a wall of water. It rose up from her sacrum and rolled forward through her hips and then it dropped, a massive crushing pressure bearing down and down and down, and she did not try to stop it. She grabbed her knees and pulled back and bore down with every muscle in her body, and the moan that tore out of her was long and low and primal, a sound that came from somewhere beneath language, and she could not stop it and did not want to.

At the same moment, Dina did the same. She got her hands under her knees and pulled back and pushed, her jaw dropped open, and the same low drawn-out groan poured out of her throat, note for note, matching Astrid's, braiding with it, filling the room with a single doubled sound that went on and on and on, two women pushing together, two bodies doing the one thing they were made to do, while all around them the men held them and Rosa counted and the lamplight burned steady gold.

The contraction slammed into both of them at once, and for a long raw moment there was only the two of them bearing down with everything they had, faces dark, cords standing out on their necks. Rosa moved fast. She came up between them, reached across the bed, and got a hand under each of their chins.

"Open your eyes. Look at me. Both of you."

Astrid's eyes dragged open. Dina's did too. Rosa's face was two feet away, concrete and calm, the flannel stretched tight over her shoulders.

"I'm going to count you together. We push on three. You are not pushing on one. You are not pushing on two. You give me a twenty-second push on three, you breathe out fast, then we do it again. You match each other. You do not push alone. Ready?"

Astrid nodded, blind, desperate. Dina made a sound that could have been yes.

"One."

The pressure was already building. Astrid felt her body wanting to shove, to bear down, to do the thing it had been trying to do for the last ten minutes. Her hands clawed the sheets.

"Two."

"Slow back, Dina. Get your knees apart. Astrid, chin to chest. When I say three, you curl up and you push down and out."

"Three."

Astrid took the breath, curled forward over her belly the way Rosa had shown her on the ball weeks ago, and pushed. She did not push alone. Across the bed, Dina pushed at the exact same moment, both women going red, their moans rising in a single doubled cry as they bore down with coordinated rhythm, a unified pure effort. Rosa counted in a flat voice. "Good. Good. Keep it. Eight more seconds. Keep it." Astrid's face burned. Her whole body trembled with the effort. The baby moved down a fraction inside her and she felt it, a vast shifting weight, and the sound she made rose a half tone and held there.

"Out," Rosa said. "Blow it out. Both of you."

They breathed out together, shudders running through them, their hands still locked.

"That was beautiful," Rosa said. "That was exactly what a push looks like. Thirty seconds and we go again."

"I can't," Astrid whispered. "I can't do that again."

"You can. You just did. And you did it with her. You're not doing it alone. There's not one of you in this room who has to carry a single contraction alone. You're carrying them together and you're about to carry them into the world together. That's not something most people get. That's something you built."

Astrid looked at Dina. Dina looked at her. Neither of them said a word. Their hands squeezed.

"One," Rosa said. "Two. Three."

They pushed. Both together. The same twenty seconds. The same held breath, the same low doubled moan, the same bearing-down effort that shook the bedframe. Rosa watched their faces, not their bodies, reading the strain and the control in their jaws, and when they broke off she nodded once.

"Good. Slower next time. Push like you're trying to move a long breath out of your throat. Not a burst. A long, even press. You feel that."

"I feel her," Dina breathed, and the words were thick, almost reverent. "Astrid, I can feel our babies dropping. I can feel yours and mine."

"I know. I feel it too."

The next contraction came faster, closer, only a minute of rest before the pressure rose again. Rosa did not need to tell them to breathe. They were already breathing, their chests moving in sync, two women locked at the hands and the breath, doing the work together like they had done everything together since the night the wall came down.

"One," Rosa said. "Hold for two that time. Both of you."

They held. The pressure built and built and Astrid's eyes went to Dina's and she pushed, and Dina pushed with her, and the two sounds braided together like they always did, high and straining and then low and raw as the effort took over.

"Out. Breathe out, both of you, long and slow. That's it. That's the rhythm. You're getting it. You've got it."

The pushing lasted another hour. Rosa kept them in sync, counting, correcting, praising, keeping both women's effort equal so neither one carried more than her share. The men knelt behind them, silent, pressing their palms against their wives' lower backs, watching the work happen in front of them with a kind of awe. The candle burned down to a puddle. The towel under Astrid darkened further. Neither woman let go of the other's hand.

"One," Rosa said, and her voice had gone quieter, almost gentle. "Two. Three."

Astrid pushed. Dina pushed. The contraction held. For the first time, the push felt different. The pressure at the peak of the wave changed, became sharper, more focused, and Astrid felt a burning ring of sensation opening inside her. She grunted. The sound was not a moan. It was a working sound, an effort sound, and Dina made it right back at her.

"That's it," Rosa said, and there was something new in her voice. "That's the one. Astrid, next push, I want your hand down there. I want you to feel her head."

Astrid sobbed. "Her."

"Her or him. Feel your baby, Astrid. Next push, your hand goes down."

The contraction rolled in. Rosa counted. Astrid bore down and reached down between her own thighs and felt it, a small wet curve of something solid, warm, hair-slick, pushing against her fingers. She screamed, a raw sound of shock and joy. "She's there. I can feel her. Dina, she's there."

"I know," Dina breathed. "I can feel mine too."

Astrid's fingers stayed on that wet, hair-slick curve like she might lose it if she let go. The contraction had passed but the pressure had not, a heavy enormous weight sitting right at the mouth of her, and she could feel the baby's head resting against the ring of muscle, waiting.

"She's right there," Astrid gasped, and her voice was wrecked, raw from an hour of pushing. "Dina, she's right there. I can feel her."

"I feel mine too." Dina's hand was down between her own thighs, palm cupped over her opening, where something solid and round pushed against her fingers from inside. Her face was streaked with sweat and tears and she was grinning like a madwoman. "Astrid, I can feel a head. I can feel his head."

Rosa moved between them on her knees, one hand on Astrid's inner thigh, one reaching across to Dina's. "You're both crowning. You're both at the same stage. This is the hardest part and it's the last part. Do you understand me?"

"We understand," Astrid sobbed.

"Then when the next one comes, you push with everything you have and you don't stop until I tell you to. You push together. One sound, two throats. Give me everything you've got left."

The wave rose. It came up from deep in Astrid's pelvis, a massive crushing pressure that rolled through her and slammed down against the baby's head, and she opened her mouth and pushed.

The sound that came out was unlike anything she had made in her life. It was not a moan and not a scream, not a word and not a cry. It was a long, low, guttural roar, something primal and enormous, rising from the pit of her and pouring out of her open throat in one endless drawn-out note. Her face went dark red. Her neck cords stood out like ropes. She pushed with every muscle in her body, her whole back curling forward, her hands locked under her knees.

And Dina made the exact same sound at the exact same moment.

Not an echo. Not a response. A single doubled roar, two voices braided so tightly they could have been one, the same pitch, the same depth, the same endless raw animal sound, filling the room and going on and on like it might never stop. They pushed together and screamed together, deep and guttural but so in tune that the hairs rose on Rosa's arms.

"That's it," Rosa shouted. "That's it! Keep going! Both of you, don't you dare stop!"

Astrid could not have stopped if she'd wanted to. Her body was doing it for her now, bearing down with a force that terrified her, and the sound kept pouring out of her throat, a long low groan that was pure effort, pure labor, a sound made of nothing but pressure and will. She felt the baby's head stretch her, burning and enormous, and she pushed into the burn instead of away from it.

Dina's roar went up a half tone and held there, shaking. Her whole body trembled, her hands white-knuckled around her knees, and she pushed into her own burning stretch, her baby's head crowning inside her, the flesh of her opening thinning and blooming around the curve of a skull.

The two of them held it. The contraction peaked and held, and they held with it, screaming, moaning, their doubled voice rising through the lamplight, through the sweat and the tears and the candle smoke, a sound that was not music but was in perfect harmony.

Shane's hands were on Astrid's back, his forehead pressed between her shoulder blades, and he was making a sound too, a low keening that underlay hers. Leo had his face buried in Dina's hair, his arms wrapped around her from behind, and he was crying without knowing it.

The contraction broke.

Astrid's roar broke with it into sobs, but she had not lost the crown. She could feel the baby's head wedged there, half born, held by the muscle, and the sting was white-hot and endless.

"She's right there," she wept. "She's so close."

"One more. One more push, both of you." Rosa was there, hands ready, towels under both of them. "One more and you meet your babies. You're right at the edge. Give me one more."

"Together," Dina said, and her voice was a broken rasp. "Astrid. Together."

"Together."

The wave came again. It built lower this time, slower, and they had the breath to take it. Astrid filled her lungs. Dina filled hers. Their eyes locked across the foot of the bed, two women red-faced and shaking and staring each other down like the world depended on it.

"One," Rosa said. "Two. Three."

They pushed.

The sound they made was lower than anything before it. It came from the soles of their feet, from their parents' bodies, from somewhere their species had carried for a million years. Two deep guttural roars that started a half second apart and slammed together into one, note-perfect, chorded, endless. They pushed into it, through it, past it. Their faces went purple. Their eyes bulged. Their hands crushed their own knees and each other's.

The baby's head crowned in Astrid, and then she was there, the whole head, born with a rush of fluid, and Rosa caught her with one hand.

Across the bed, Dina's baby's head emerged in the same breath, in the same push, a dark wet crown of hair sliding free into Rosa's other hand.

"Holy god," Rosa said, and for the first time in all the hours, her voice cracked. "Hold them. Don't push yet. Both of you, hold."

The two women lay there, gasping, their doubled roar fallen to broken panting, each with their baby's head in Rosa's hands, the next contraction gathering.

"When it comes," Rosa said, "you deliver the rest of the way. One more push. You're already mothers. You're about to hold them."

Dina's hand found Astrid's again. Somewhere, through the wet and the shaking, their fingers locked.

"One more," Dina rasped. "We do one more."

Astrid nodded. Her eyes were full. "One more."

The wave came up out of her pelvis and she pushed, and Dina pushed, and their doubled cry rose one last time, deep and guttural and perfectly, impossibly in tune, a single sound made of two women, and into the ringing of it their babies were born, together, into Rosa's waiting hands.