Tiny hands reached toward the sky, whispering a prayer to the Creator, as if those fragile fingers could calm the storm raging inside the heart. A plea for mercy… Since the day I could remember, my hands had never left the sky. Just like when I was a little girl, begging for my mother to walk out of that hospital room alive, today I was once again praying to God.
But this time, I was the mother. And my prayers were for the little soul I had carried in my womb for nine long months.
"Please, my Lord… Do not take away the child I am about to embrace after so many years."
This is Çukurova. I grew up among endless cotton fields, a young woman whose hands were calloused from weaving carpets, spending a lifetime yearning for a child of my own.
Yet the Cradleless Mansion taught me otherwise—reminded me of my barren fate. Even though they knew the fault was with my husband, they let me waste my youth, drowning in the agony of never becoming a mother, just to protect the name of the mansion's master.
But fate is cruel, isn't it?
Now, in this dark chamber, I was giving birth.
My hands gripped the sheets beneath me, and as my throat burned dry, I prayed desperately—this time not for life's joys, but simply not to die.
"The baby's heartbeat is dropping."
"Madam Rabia, one last push! Come on, you can do this!"
My vision blurred, and my ears roared with a piercing hum. One last push… That was all it would take to bring my baby safely into my arms. Just one more… I could do it…
"The mother's pulse is dropping too! Rabia Hanım… Rabia!"
Light slaps against my face tried to pull me back, but even opening my eyes felt heavier than I imagined. I never knew bringing life into this world would be such torment.
Consciousness was slipping away. The darkness pressing against my eyes grew heavier with every second. Compared to this moment—compared to giving birth to my child—every hardship I had ever endured seemed like nothing. I remembered well the times I fell to my knees, crying in despair. I remembered the devastation when I learned a second wife was being brought into my husband's bed.
But none of it…
None of it compared to the fierce, primal urge I now felt within me.
"Rabia Hanım, the baby's head is crowning—stay calm, stay calm and—"
Before the midwife could finish her words, I gathered what remained of my strength and pushed with everything I had left.
I had done it. I had brought my child into this world.
As the edges of my vision turned black, a seed of fear lodged itself in my heart. Yet the thought of hearing my newborn's first cry curved my lips into a triumphant smile.
At last, I had won against the Cradleless Mansion. I had proven them wrong by holding the right to become a mother. My life had meaning again.
I wanted to be a spark of hope for every hopeless woman, a light as radiant as the great sun shining above.
I had succeeded. But victory had never come at such a price…
"Her pulse is dropping!"
The frantic voices of the midwives faded into a hollow hum as my eyes drifted closed before I could even glimpse my child. Perhaps I would wake and hold the soul born from my own flesh…
Or perhaps the God had already decided my time was over.