In the L&D Suite, at the Winter Solstice

“She’s dilated to 8 cm and mostly effaced. Contractions are strong, about 3 minutes apart,” said the nurse. “She seems delirious.”

“She's into transition now. She’s likely to be a little out of it. Or a lot. Did she bring a focal point? Where’s her labor coach?” asked the charge nurse. “Oh, you’d better notify Dr. Weems that she’s in transition.”

“Weems sent her husband out to get some supper. He hadn’t eaten yet today — the fool brought a couple of packages of mint cookies,” said the first nurse as she shook her head. She looked around and found a ceramic replica of a mushroom. “Here’s her focal point.” She set the mushroom where it was easily visible.

“That looks like a fly agaric — they’re mildly poisonous, and supposed to be psychoactive. The things these women bring in as focal points amaze me. I’d like to know the story behind that, but there’s no point in asking now.”

“Why do you know about mushrooms, Connie?”

“My husband’s a connoisseur. We go ‘shroom hunting in season. I’m always a little nervous about eating wild mushrooms —“

—o— 
A conference room, near the Winter Solstice of the previous year

The fertility specialist breezed into the room in his lab coat with a thick manila file folder in his hands. “Mrs Adams, Mr Adams, I’m afraid I have bad news and better news. We’ve got the results of the fertility workups back. Mr Adams, we already knew your viable sperm count is low, but we’ve been working around that. Mrs Adams, your fallopian tubes are scarred — that was the purpose of the dye study. I don’t think there’s any way for you to get pregnant naturally. Worse, if you were to get pregnant, the most likely result is an ectopic pregnancy.

“I’m afraid the only option is in vitro fertilization and implantation. That has a reasonable success rate. I think that we can get her knocked up and deliver a baby within a year or eighteen months.”

“My tubes are scarred? How could that happen?” asked Joy.

“Most usually pelvic inflammatory disease. It’s a curse of our time.”

“So, in vitro fertilization is our only choice?”

“I’m afraid so. And you should talk to your gynecologist about having a tubal ligation. Ectopic pregnancies are a medical emergency.”

The news came as a complete shock to both of them. They discussed the problem.

Andy said, “There is another option, you know. We could sign up and adopt a baby.”

“You know how I feel about adoption, Andy.” Tears began welling up in Joy’s eyes, “I want to have a baby. I want your baby. I don’t want someone else’s, I don’t want to use a surrogate. I guess we have to do it artificially.”

“It’s your call, Joy. Harvesting eggs is no picnic. The drugs — you know the drill.”

“I know the drill,” she agreed. Joy sounded resigned to reality.

“I’m not trying to dodge responsibility in this. I love you Joy; I love you with all my heart. I want to be a dad. It’s less important to me how it happens than that it does happen. I love you. You want my baby. We do what we have to do.”

—o—

In the L&D Suite

Joy started thrashing around after an intense contraction. “God, that was awful. Where’s the crone?”

The nurse sat down next to Joy. “Who? Is that your husband? We’ve sent out a page for him.”

“No. He’s Andy. Where is the crone? She’s supposed to be here!”

—o—

A dark room, shortly after the New Year

Joy waited in the root cellar for the witch to appear. The walls were covered by tapestries and the ceiling was covered by bundles of herbs drying. There was a single small table in the center of the room with two chairs. The wise-woman appeared in the room suddenly. Joy had been alone. Now she and the crone were in the room together. The crone asked her to sit at the table. On the table was a quartz crystal nearly half a meter long mounted on a rosewood plinth. It was flanked by three crystal spheres: one of amethyst, one of citrine and one of a black mineral Joy could not identify.

The wise-woman asked, “What can I do for you?”

Joy was silent. At last she spoke, as tears spilled down her cheeks, “I want a baby. The doctors say —“

The wise-woman spat on the dirt floor. “Doctors. What do doctors know of such things? This is why you are here, no?”

“— I can’t have a baby without —“

“I ask again: what do doctors know of such things? If you want a baby, you can have a baby. You must listen to my instructions, though.”

“I can have a baby?”

“Of course. You are a woman, of course you can have a baby. But you must do as I tell you,” said the wise-woman again.

“I’ll do anything,” said Joy.

“Don’t do anything, just do as I tell you, Joy.”

“Of course. What must I do?”

“Listen carefully to my next words. Heed them.” Joy began to speak, but the wise-woman hushed her. “Listen, don’t speak.” The wise-woman closed her eyes and began swaying in her chair. Soon after she began to chant slowly.

Deep in the forest a faerie ring 
Surrounding a pine by sky god fork’d,
Is dressed in fabric own’d by a saint,
The saint of midwinter’s night.

In the spring, when night equals day
To this faerie ring you must go
And there consume the circle’s fruit,
With your husband eat the fruit of the ring.

Sky clad beneath Selene’s tender light
Find yourself in his embrace.
Take into your warmth and love
His seed to nurture and grow.

But flee you must, lest the faerie folk
Whose fruit you stole should steal in turn
Your babe, and in its place
A changeling leave.

As she chanted, Joy took her words down verbatim. After completing her song, the wise-woman swayed a while longer, and ceased and opened her eyes. She looked at Joy, and asked, “Did you hear me?”

“Yes. I don’t understand but I noted what you said.” Joy offered the notebook to the woman.

“People have no memory today,” the wise-woman commented. She read the verse. “It seems clear to me. Do you know what a faerie ring is?”

“No.”

“It is a ring of mushrooms. I know this ring: it surrounds a lightning-struck pine. It is a mixture of fly agaric and penny bun mushrooms. Fly agaric has a red cap: the line about the saint refers to Saint Nicholas.” She got up and went to a shelf and returned with some dried mushrooms. “You can see the red color on the caps. They are mildly poisonous.

“At the spring equinox you and your husband are to have relations in the center of the ring after eating the fly agaric. Afterwards, you must leave. If you don’t, the faeries may steal your baby and leave one of theirs in its place.” She handed Joy the mushrooms. “Reconstitute these in water, and chop them finely.”

“You said they are poisonous!’

“Mildly poisonous. You would have to eat a dozen or so to harm yourself. Many cultures around the world use these to converse with the Gods.”

—o— 
If March came in like a lion that year, it was an old and decrepit lion. The nights were fairly warm. The night before the equinox, Joy told Andy she wanted to go on a dinner picnic and escape the city for a while. It had been a rough month: the fertility specialist harvested twenty-four eggs from her the previous week. Andy rearranged his schedule the next morning so he could leave early to take Joy up to the mountains to relax. He made reservations for the night at a nearby bed-and-breakfast.

It was a two hour drive to the National Forest. When they reached their usual spot, Joy asked Andy to drive on further, to the Ryder-Haggard camp area. Andy drove on. When they arrived at the campground and unloaded their dinner and a blanket, Joy pointed out the pine tree across the meadow. It stood at the edge of the forest, its trunk split by a lightning strike. “Look at that, Andy!” she said.

“You want to eat over there?” Andy asked.

“I think it would be fun. We always do picnic tables. Let’s be wild.”

“Sure thing.” Andy hauled the picnic basket across the meadow and spread the blanket. While he spread the blanket under the tree, Joy walked around the area. She saw a slightly raised, roughly circular ring surrounding the tree.

She thought to herself, ‘This is the place.’ She went back to the blanket and began getting out their dinner. It was a fairly simple meal: crudités and a tzatziki dip, tabouleh, pitas, feta and roast chicken. There were also four stuffed mushroom caps.

They ate their meal slowly, feeding each other. Each of them had one of the mushrooms. By the time they finished dinner it was after sunset, but still bright enough to see. In the east the glow of the rising moon was visible. Joy kissed Andy, “I love you, you know?”

“I know. I know from the meal you fixed for this picnic: all things I really like.”

“And I know you love me. You moved a bunch of stuff around to bring me up here. Thank you.” Joy leaned in to kiss Andy, then she laid on the blanket. Her head was in Andy’s lap. “When do we have to leave?”

Andy said, “We should probably leave pretty soon. It’s getting dark. We have a room at O’Donnell House.”

“You know what I’d like to do?”

“No, I haven’t any idea, Joy. We could pack up and head to the inn. That would leave us the evening to do — whatever.”

“I’d like to do some whatever. But I’d like to do it here, now. It’s dark, we’re alone —“

Andy looked at her oddly. “Is this the woman I married?”

“One and the same. Do you hear the music, Andy? The bells. High pitched bells, like a glockenspiel?”

“No. I don’t hear anything. Are you sure you want to have sex here?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything, my love. Are you sure you don’t hear the bells?”

“Okay, let me take the basket and cooler to the car. I’ll be right back with a flashlight.” Andy gave her a quick kiss, and gathered the picnic gear but for the blanket. He returned five minutes later with a flashlight.

Joy was undressed when he got back. “Quick, get undressed, Andy. Leave your clothes with mine. Are you sure you can’t hear the bells? There are violins, too.”

Andy didn’t need to be asked twice. Their sex life was satisfactory, but especially since they began trying to get pregnant it had become pedestrian. ‘Oh, Joy’s ovulating — we need to do it tonight. Joy’s not ovulating. We can’t do it tonight, we’ve got to save the sperm.’ It was nice to do it because they wanted to have sex, rather than needing to have sex or needing to not have sex. He got undressed quickly, and put his clothes in a pile on Joy’s. He joined her on the blanket.

He kissed her passionately. “This is almost like being on our honeymoon again, babe.”

“Let’s enjoy it. Look, over there—by the pine”

“Look at what?”

“There’s a bird? no — a fairy? There aren’t fairies, are there Andy?” She began kissing him again, and started playing with the hair on his chest. “Mmmm, glad you aren’t into manscaping,” she said into his mouth. She moved around to nibble on his ear lobe.

Andy saw the fairies, too. He lost track of them almost immediately as Joy’s mouth reached his nipple and she latched onto it for a bit. Her hand had drifted down towards his thighs, and was playing with his navel. He reached across to hold her breast, massaging it.

Joy’s head moved further down onto Andy’s abdomen as her hand drifted towards his cock. She hooked her thumb around its base and curled her fingers around his balls. She spent some time playing with them, stretching out his scrotum and feeling the testes heavy in her hand. Andy moaned a little. Joy felt herself becoming aroused. The music of the bells was louder in her mind now. She reached up a bit with her left hand and began to stroke his hard shaft. He moaned louder than before.

Andy had closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensations Joy was giving him. Even with his eyes closed, he saw the fairies approaching the ring. He felt the head of his cock being engulfed by the warmth of Joy’s mouth. He sighed, “Oh, yes — like that,” as her tongue began to swirl around the crown of his hard-on. His hips thrust a little as he pushed further into her mouth.

When Joy felt his hips thrusting she began sucking hard on him, laying her tongue flat against the side of his erection. His arousal and the psychotropics in the mushrooms were working together to push her to a level of arousal she had rarely experienced before. She saw the fairies begin to dance around the ring. Suddenly she had to have him in her. She held onto the head of his cock as she pulled her mouth away from him. She straddled him and positioned it at her pussy. She ran the head along her lips and moaned; then she reached down with her other hand and spread her lips. She felt her wetness. He slipped into her easily. All her senses seemed to be heightened as she lowered herself onto him. Sex with Andy had always been good, but this was unlike anything they had done before. He felt huge in her as she began slow movements up and down on his rigid shaft. She was soon stretched to accommodate him comfortably.

As Joy lowered herself onto him, Andy began to hear the music of the bells and strings. The word tintinnabulation popped into his head, followed by lines of the Poe poem: he heard the sledges with the silver bells. Just as suddenly as the poem came into his mind it was lost in the sensation of his union with Joy.

She was now grinding her pubis against his, pushing herself towards orgasm. Joy was lost in her own sensations. Now she began fucking Andy hard, moving up and down on his shaft, grinding against him at the bottom of each stroke. She leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Cum in me. Make a baby — Give it to me.”

Andy couldn’t last any longer. He thrust his hips up against Joy as he saw stars he had never seen before, lost in his orgasm.

When she felt the first eruption at her cervix and everything got even slicker, Joy lost herself in her own orgasm. She lost control of her legs and collapsed on Andy’s hips. She laid against his chest as he held her close. She opened her eyes to look around. The fairies continued to dance. The pine had been transformed into a Maypole. Each fairy held a ribbon: they were red, orange, yellow, blue, and violet. In their dance the fairies were weaving in and out to make a fabric of the ribbons.

The crone appeared in the circle. She spoke to Joy, telling her to flee. Joy roused Andy, telling him “We have to leave. We must leave now.”

“Why? That was intense. I’d like to lie here for a bit, Joy.”

Urgency crept into her voice. “Andy, we must leave immediately. The fairies are weaving a cloth that will trap us. We have to go now.”

—o— 
In the Labor and Delivery Suite

Andy reached across with a damp, cool cloth and wiped the perspiration from Joy’s brow. He leaned further and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Joy.” She drew in a deep breath.

Dr Weems pulled her fingers from Joy’s birth canal. “She’s at ten centimeters and fully effaced.” She looked over at the computer monitor that was showing fetal heart rate. “It looks like the baby is doing well. It’s time to push.” She looked at Joy, “Joy. Joy! Listen to me, it’s time to push.”

Joy came into the present. “I can push?”

“Yes. At the next contraction, push. Bear down and push her out. It’s time.”

The contraction started. Joy began to breathe shallowly, blowing the air out as she learned in the birthing classes. As the contraction approached its peak she bore down hard, pushing her baby further into the birth canal. When the contraction eased, she collapsed against the back of the birthing chair. “I’m glad the waiting is over,” she said.

“Are you okay, Joy?” asked Andy.

“I’m glad the waiting is over. I’m finally doing something.”

Dr Weems reached in to check the baby’s position. “A few more like that and we’ll be done here.”

The next contraction came on quickly. Joy began pushing early in the contraction and pushed all the way through. “We have crowning. Make sure the warming tray is ready. I’ll need a bulb syringe.” The nurses assured her that everything was ready. She laughed, saying, “I know it is. I just need to make sure.”

It took three more contractions before she delivered the head. At the next contraction she delivered the shoulders and the baby began to cry. Dr Weems delivered a baby girl. The doctor clamped the umbilical cord and handed the scissors to Andy. “Cut it between the clamps, please.” He took the scissors and tried to cut the cord without much effect. “It’s pretty tough. Keep the cord toward the back of the scissors where you have more leverage.” Andy tried again and succeeded this time. The doctor handed the baby to a nurse.

“We have a beautiful, healthy girl here. What is her name?” asked the doctor.

Andy looked at Joy. “Is that the name you want?”

“Yes. We’d agreed on it.”

“Her name is Amanita Georgia Adams, we’ll call her Nita,” he said.