This morning started off great until I started having stomach pains. They don't feel the same as when I went into labor with my son, Rio. I don't feel any pelvic pressure yet. I know I'm close, though. Biscuit, my fox familiar, has been following me around.

The house desperately needs cleaning before the baby arrives. Dust has collected in corners I've overlooked for months. Cleaning and chores have been more difficult during this pregnancy. The baby is constantly moving, especially when I'm trying to relax. It's as if it knows. I'm bigger this time, too. It’s drained my energy.

Leopold wants to sell the cottage and move to the purest town nearby. He says it's best for the kids. If they are purest like him, not spellcasters like me, it makes sense. I don't want to leave the cottage, but I'll do what's best for my kids, so we'll probably move. We discussed moving back to Fireridge if our children are spellcasters. That's likely the only reason I'll try it his way.

Right now, Leo drives Rio to school when he goes to work. Rio didn't want to go to school, but I agreed with his father. He needed to try it.

I wish we could keep this cottage for the move back, if there is one. I find the most peace here. It isn't financially sound. We'll have to sell in order to purchase a home in the new town. To be honest, I'm not sure why we didn't make the move when Rio was born. It would have made sense then, too.

I've thought about using magic to clean the house today, but that wouldn't set a good example for Rio. I don't want him growing up thinking magic is the answer to all our problems. A seven-year-old mind is impressionable. It would be so easy to do, though. Especially since I'm struggling today.

I walked over to the kitchen sink to get a glass of water when I looked out the window above the sink. The sky had darkened, and it had started pouring rain. It shouldn't be so dark that I can't see anything outside. It is though. I can't even see the driveway from here, and it's only a few feet away from the cottage. I should be able to see the stones that line the driveway. The darkness makes me shiver.

In that moment, I feel liquid rush down my leg, and the contractions start. I knew I should be ready to go, but I thought I'd have another week to get ready. I have to get to my midwife. I don't want to have this baby without any help.

I go outside to the porch, and the wind is blowing so hard that it's raining sideways, and some of the trees are nearly touching the ground. I can't hear anything besides the wind, rain, and thunder. I should've grabbed something to tie my hair up with because my hair has blown all over my face. Too late now.

The sky is darker than I realized. Clouds block my view. No moon, no sun. Lightning is my only guide, making it hard to navigate the woods. I should know this area by heart, but labor clouds my mind.

The thunder roars loudly enough to make me jump. Biscuit moved closer as we walked. She has always sensed my unease.

I recall the three major storms that have occurred in my lifetime. They were all right before or during an incredibly powerful event. This is one of the worst storms we have ever had. It had to be tonight of all nights. It makes me nervous to be in labor. I hope nothing bad happens, and I hope my baby is going to be okay.

I usually don't go out in storms because they scare Leopold. I'm perfectly fine with storms. I can sleep right through them. Most nights, when it storms, Leo wakes me up. He doesn't mean to. He can't sleep during the storms, and he paces our room until it's over. This storm has probably rendered him unable to move. I'm worried about him.

I can barely breathe properly. The pain in my legs and back is like lightning in the sky, shooting everywhere in my body, and it's excruciating. The contractions are in time with the thunder. It is too eerie for me. It's like this storm is meant for the birth of my child. The whole village will remember the day my baby is born because of this storm.

Leo and I decided not to find out the gender, even though his sister pushed for it. Mostly because that is a custom from modern times, and I prefer to be surprised. I can't recall any time a spellcaster has known their baby's gender. We never knew Rio's gender before his birth.

Everything we have purchased is gender neutral. It doesn't matter what a baby wears or what they lie in as long as the baby is loved and cared for. I can guarantee loving the baby will be the easy part.

The rain feels fantastic on my clammy skin. I need to get to the midwife before I get stuck out here. She can't get to me because it's Tuesday, and her husband is using their vehicle. He always uses the vehicle on Tuesdays to run all their errands. It's hard for her to walk longer distances. The one thing I'm thankful for it's Tuesday Rio is at school, so I don't have to worry about him being out in this with me.

Being out in the storm makes me wish I had gone to a traditional doctor so I could get an ambulance. I still don't want to have my baby in the hospital. The doctors would have questions about me. Things that some people still don't understand. That is why we mostly keep to ourselves. Others say the purest world has evolved. I'm not so sure.

Right now, I am wishing I could get hold of Leo. His phone is off. I don't know why. It took a lot to get the council to agree to him having a cell phone. He's only allowed to have it while I'm pregnant.

He was supposed to go to the grocery store and then return home immediately. He knew it was almost time for our bundle of joy to grace the world with its presence. The truth is, the storm rolled in while he was at the grocery store, and because it would affect him mentally, he probably didn't want to drive home in it.

I wasn’t watching where I walked. I could barely see ahead, let alone my feet past my belly. Even if I’d tried, rain plastered my hair to my face, leaving me blind. Suddenly, something hit my toes. I tripped. A log lay at my feet. How could I be so careless? At least I didn’t land on my belly.

Pain shoots through my leg as I try to stand. I pulled it closer to me to examine it. Great, now I'm in labor, and I hurt my leg. There is blood dripping down my leg from a cut. This night couldn't get any worse for me. I need my husband. I want him here with me. I want him to rub my back as I push our miracle out. I need to squeeze his hand every time the pain comes.

The rain poured harder now, but it doesn't bother me. I'm already soaked through to the bone. What is bothering me is that I can feel the baby coming. My body wants to push. There's so much pressure.

I find a log to lean against for support. It feels like something is ripping me from the inside. Probably because someone is. I push a couple of times, then take a break to catch my breath. Many women have done this before me without medication. I've done it before with Rio. Of course, it was inside a house out of the rain, and I had help.

Doing this on my own hurts my heart more than the labor hurts my body. I lean up again and push more. I reach down between my legs to feel around. I can feel the top of the baby's head. There is sticky hair touching my hand.

I leaned up to push again. I'm tearing, and the head is coming through. I push more, and the head is out. One more push and the shoulders come out. Then, I leaned up and pulled the baby out. I held the baby to my chest as the squeals pierced my ears. I did it.

I don't have anything to wrap the baby in. I rummage through my purse for something sharp to cut the umbilical cord. It takes a couple of minutes to find something that will go through it. Randomly shoving things Rio finds into my purse comes in handy sometimes. I cut the cord and pinched it off with a clothespin I found. Now, I wish I'd packed a towel.

While cutting the umbilical cord, I notice she's a girl! We wanted a girl. I've wanted to dress up a girl for so long. I'll be able to do mother-daughter activities with her when she is older. Happy tears stream down my face.

Now, we have to figure out a name for her. We were going back and forth between Keirsh and Lily. It's a decision I need to make with Leopold. A decision that could've been made had he been here with me. I wish he hadn't missed her birth.

I brought her back up to my chest and held her close, but I needed to get up and start walking again. I don't want her getting cold from the rain. Even in August, the rain can be on the cooler side, especially for a newborn. He's going to be so heartbroken.

My body feels a sense of relief, as most of the pain has gone. My leg still hurts, and I'm bleeding, but as soon as I get to my midwife, she will know what to do. I wish I could stop long enough to cast a pain-relieving spell. There's no time if I'm going to get my baby out of this weather.

I don't know how long it takes me to get there, but I finally knock on her door. My girl is surprisingly calm at the moment. She didn't fuss too much on the way here. When my midwife opens it, all she asks me before she ushers me into her house is, "Is it a girl or a boy?"

I look down at her. I can already feel the pull she'll have on me. I look back up to her, smile, and say, "She's a girl!"