Daily life became a monotonous routine. Yin Su tidied the house, cooked meals, kept the animals fed, tended to the garden. The women of the village tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable. The sight of children in their homes only made the emptiness in hers greater. Tears came unbidden. She spent more and more time on the mountainside gathering herbs and wild edibles. She found solace among the trees. She had purpose when searching for herbs. Wildflower blooms lightened her spirit. As summer turned into fall, her belly again began to grow.

“Husband, I am again with child.”

“Good. There is yet hope for a son.”

“Yes, I will be more vigilant in my offerings to the gods.”

Yin Su created a small altar in a corner of the sleeping room. She made a new clay effigy of Song Zi Niang Niang and clothed it in bits of brightly colored cloth. She lit incense and left a small bowl of porridge each day. She prayed for a son.

Rains were slow to come and the harvest was lean. Plants withered and produced little grain. Community farmers shared what they could, but there were many mouths to feed and Yin Su suspected that they had grains saved for their own families. Her husband’s status as Gatekeeper entitled him to a larger portion of the shared resources, but a larger portion of a small harvest is still small. Her husband slaughtered a pig when cold weather set in. He salted the meat to preserve it through the winter. Everyone ate sparingly.

The child inside Yin Su grew slowly. He did not kick as vigorously as the first child had. Yin Su cradled her belly and told the child that better times were ahead. She encouraged him to think of the future when he would enter this world and meet his father.

Yin Su felt the pains of childbirth far too early. She had not yet entered the final month of preparation and had not taken the herbal concoctions for an easy birth. Village women advised her to rest and retire to the birthing hut. They brought hastily prepared potions for Yin Su to drink, but her body did not have sufficient time to absorb and make full use of the power of the herbs. 

The gods showed their displeasure by making the birth long and painful. After two days of undulating pain and relief, Yin Su drank a strong concoction of angelica and the contractions became more acute. An exhausted Yin Su did not protest when a village woman took her by the waist and held her in position until the child slipped from her womb. The placenta was delivered and placed in the wooden bowl for burying.

The child was weak and did not immediately cry. The village women took turns patting the child on the back and rocking it to clean out the nose and mouth. Eventually, a plaintive cry filled the child’s lungs. Exhausted and bleeding Yin Su crawled to the bed to rest.

The neighbor women positioned Yin Su so that she lay on her back with her legs up the side of the wall. A poultice of yarrow between her legs slowed the bleeding. They placed the child in Yin Su’s arms and she attempted to get the child to suckle. Milk did not flow. The women encouraged Yin Su to massage her breast. They gave her water laced with fenugreek leaves to drink.

The next day, both Yin Su and her child were very weak. Milk flowed slowly and the child showed little interest in suckling. By the third day, it was time for the ritual bath of both mother and child and to present the child to the father and the community.

Yin Su massaged her breasts and held her child close. The bleeding had stopped and the ritual bath refreshed her and gave her energy. She rehearsed in her mind how she would present her daughter. Another daughter. Yin Su sighed and held her close. The child still seemed frail. So frail, she did not cry.

Only the village women attended the Third-Day Ceremony. When the time came, Yin Su emerged from the birthing hut with the child and said to her Husband, “The gods are still angry. I have only a female child, not worthy of a husband’s notice.” Her Husband looked at the child and walked away without speaking.

Despite the attention from Yin Su and the village women, the child did not thrive. It remained weak and suckled little. One morning her Husband appeared in the doorway to the birthing hut. “The child is weak. It does not cry. It is not normal.” He walked into the hut and picked up the child. “Food is scarce. The child is another mouth to feed. Regain your strength.” He walked out of the hut with the child before Yin Su could protest. She never saw the child again.

Her Husband allowed Yin Su to recover and regain her strength for the full month which is traditional for a woman who has given birth. When she returned to her Husband’s bed it was at her own volition. No words were spoken between them. She simply left the birthing hut and told the village women their attentions were no longer needed. She prepared the evening meal and crawled into her usual sleeping mat next to her husband.

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