"Bear down, milady. One last push," Tabitha couches gently. With another groan, the infant slips free, at first not crying. Tabitha's heart skips a beat while Talia lays back panting.  The infant gives a weak cry when Tabitha and Samantha begin getting him cleaned up. The little boy is small, even premature as he is. He's place in Talia's arms, which she instantly places a kiss on her son's wrinkled forehead. "Sya... meet our baby," she says tiredly but full of joy. Samantha helps her bare her tender breasts for the child to drink, knowing a carried to term infant would know what to do after a bit. At first, she worries when he doesn't catch on. Slowly he starts to take from her. She looks up when another fierce contraction rolls through her.<br/><br/>The second child comes much faster than the first, haven been taken from Talia when the contractions started again. Tabitha knows that the babe will never take a breath. His skin is already blue, plus he's smaller than the first born. The midwife cleans the child and wraps it in a blanket anyway. "Milady...this one didn't make it."<br/><br/>Grief and joy at the same time. She holds the unborn baby, sobbing as she does so. Later Talia holds her surviving son, tears streaming down her face. She dozes lightly. Only an hour later she's howling in grief, both of their children gone, the infant's lungs not strong enough to keep it breathing.  Another round of sleeping drafts is brought for both of them. She can barely feel Sya stroke her hair.