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"Have I always mentioned how beautiful you are, mi amor?"
Julieta looked away from the dough she was kneading to see her husband leaning against the door frame, his right cheek swollen and red from a bee sting and supporting his broken wrist in his other hand.
Agustín tried to smile, but the puffy side of his cheek has made it gangly and wiggle awkwardly. "Ay, Agustín," Julieta sighed, but a serene smile made it up to her thin lips as she dug into her apron pocket to retrieve an arepa.
The injured man approached her and she shoved the arepa into his mouth, patting his cheek afterward. He chewed happily, humming when the redness disappeared and the puffiness deflated.
He flexed his wrist, relieved, before he noticed that his wife's back was facing him, her hands working on the dough. Silently, he wrapped his arms around her waist, head resting on her shoulder, strands of her hair tickling his neck and cheek. The smell of herbs and flour whiffed through his nose, the familiar scent always smelling like home.
His hands wormed up to her growing belly, gently caressing it. Agustín grinned the baby kicked back in response.
"Stop it, you woke him up!" Julieta exclaimed, laughing and trying to shrug off him off her shoulder.
"Or maybe she was just waiting for her papi," he reasoned innocently, watching as Julieta turned around again to face him, her facial expression dry. Still, her smile never faltered.
"It's not my fault mi hija loves me so much," Agustín defended. Julieta hummed in response and wiped the remnants of the food from a cloth, rubbing a hand over her swell when the baby kicked again. "When will you admit defeat that this one will be a boy?"
The mustache on Agustín's face wriggled mischievously. "It's three against one, corazón," he said with an impish smile. "Isa and Lu both agreed the baby will be another girl."
It had been a running joke, obviously.
After having two beautiful little girls, Julietta and Agustín had considered the possibility that they were done with having any more kids. Julieta, admittedly, had wanted to have more than just two; perhaps four or five, but that hadn't been the future she got-not when any of her pregnancies after Luisa stayed.
It had hurt, each and everyone of them, the outcome of no baby, but instead blood soaking through her britches and cramps for days with empty arms. He too wanted more, but every result he stayed by her side as she cried into her husband's chest.
They decided to let things be; to allow nature take its course, and if a miracle happened upon them like the gift Julieta received, then so be it. It was a lesson to learn to not underestimate the miracle in itself. Or to think that she was able to save one of them with her healing foods, but never really worked.
Then, it happened. Three months after Pepa announced her pregnancy to their family, Julieta was pregnant.
The baby was unplanned but never unloved.
It was still, however, fun to see who would win in the end.
"My defense is mother's intuition."
"Sí, you do have wonderful mother's intuition, but I believe our poco vida will be another copy of you."
"Or you," she suggested, love gleaming in her eyes as she stared into her husband's chocolate brown irises. Agustín ran a thumb under her twinkling eye, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "De todos modos, seré feliz," he murmured lightly.
Julieta gave a quick peck to her husband's mouth before returning a graceful quirk of her lips. "Sí, yo también, amor."
Her third pregnancy was...not easy. It took almost four months to alleviate her nausea, only to be met with extremely uncomfortable back pain for the rest of her pregnancy.
Even though she would have loved to return to her bed and lay her aching body against the soft mattress of hers, she had a job, as a Madrigal and mother. She made a routine, splitting time in the cooking area and then in their little town, feeding the injured with her healing food.
Afterward, the rest was spent with her two little ones. Since Isabela was given the gift of flourishing plants and flowers, her oldest loved conjuring flower crowns and settling them on top of Julieta's head or Luisa's, even on her mother's baby bump, but never usually her own head. She was graceful and beautiful inside and out, full of life and willingness.
And Luisa-she loved carrying heavy things she could get her hands on, showing a large rock to her, or books balanced on her head as she steadied them and exclaimed that they weren't heavy at all.
The youngest, for now, was about to receive her gift, and though it still mystified her on what her daughter's gift was, she knew in the back of her head that she would be strong, will-powered, and perseverant with anything.
Her children were unique, from head-to-toe, from personality to gift. And she loved them so much, not because of their gifts or their looks, but because they were her's and Agustín's, made out of love and dedication.
They were her pequeñas amores, and she would remind them until the day she dies.
In three or two weeks another member would join the Familia Madrigals, and a ceremony would commence another gift in the next five years.
Julieta leaned against the shady Cedrela Montana tree, twiddling a dandelion between her slender fingers as she watched Isabela produce flowers on top of a grassy hill near the Encanto, and Luisa picking as many blossoms to bring for her.
A tender smile graced her lips, content in grazing the view of her children playing and frolicking around in the grass. The wind brushed past her frame, strands of hair blowing behind her, along with the leaves that swayed with a 'swoosh'.
Pepa must be in a good mood, she mused, eyes closing in ease. To finally be at peace...away from stress.
Then, a sudden, sharp pain radiated underneath her pregnant belly. Her eyes flew open in surprise, lungs taking in a winded breath before blowing out slowly. She ran a hand over her swell and frowned slightly. "No need to scare your Mami, pequeño," she said quietly to the baby as if they would understand.
She waited for more, but after a few minutes of waiting, she thought it was just an ache. Unfortunately, new pain shot right up her back, tightening around her midsection. Julieta gasped for breath, fingernails digging into the soft dirt.
Braxton hicks were familiar to her body to prepare for the real contractions, but this-this was not normal.
Her cheeks puffed up and deflated, the afflicting twinge ebbing slightly. Breaths uneven and shallow, she willed herself to stand up, grunting struggling due to the mound attached to her front.
Julieta caught her breath again, hand leaning against the tree, breathing in and out as steady as she could. Just as when she thought things couldn't get any worse, something popped.
With widened irises, she glanced down to see glistening rivulets of fluids stream down her legs and puddle underneath her.
Ay...so this was labor.
She grimaced, the hot and sticky liquid clinging onto her ankles and shoes.
"Mamá?"
Julieta whipped her up, Isabela in her view. Her oldest looked at her with a worried look, a flower cupped in her hands and shiny hair flying in the cool breeze.
"Are you okay?"
She cursed this timing internally, but she smiled comfortingly towards her daughter. "I'm fine, Mija-" a shrewd and fleeting gasp escaped Julieta's mouth, hunching forward in pain as she fell to her knees in agony.
No, this isn't fine.
"Mamá!" Isa's high-pitched scream rang in her ears, pounding against her head in pain and feeling tiny hands squeezing her shoulders. The mother gulped in the air and looked up to see her child's face marred with fear and panic, making her heartache.
"Mija, Mija, listen to me," her trembling hand cupped her daughter's cheek, wiping off a tear that rolled down. "Go get your Papi and Abuela, okay, amor?" she asked. "Can you be my brave little one and do that for me?"
It took a second for Isabel to register her mother's request before she nodded quickly.
"Go then," Julieta assured when Isa hesitated. "I'll be alright, mija-go."
The 7-year-old nodded rapidly and sped away, disappearing behind bushes and trees and into town. She sighed, breath hitching when another contraction warped her being.
Julieta held in a cry, biting her lip instead. Soft thumping that stopped abruptly caught her attention, and the pregnant mother craned her head to see her four-year-old daughter standing like a statue, arms full of blossoms and pretty plants.
"Mi amor," she rasped, hand reaching out. In an instant, Luisa dropped everything and held onto her mother's warm hand. "Mamá in pain?" Her lips wobbled, tears gathering into the pool of her hazel eyes.
"I'm okay, querida," she soothed, thumb running over her youngest daughter's knuckles. Luisa nodded jerkily, but the comfort didn't keep the worry twisting her face.
Abruptly, Julieta panted harshly, squeezing Luisa's tiny hand in the process. The little girl didn't react to the crushing weight of her mother's strength, only observing her with quiet anxiousness.
She couldn't bother to make a word as the contraction gripped her body like she was a fruit, ready to be compressed. It waned slowly and painfully, but once Julieta gained enough bearings to notice she was squeezing someone's hand, her face contorted in horrifying shock.
"Oh, mi corazón, I'm so sorry about your hand," Julieta fretted over her daughter. Luisa shook her head and shrugged. "I'm fine, it didn't hurt."
"Ay, that's good," the mother breathed, although she would be definitely be feeding Luisa some of her Carimañolas. Silence befell them, with only her heavy breathing.
Luisa continued to hold her hand, even when Julieta tried to let go.
"Can-can we go back to the Casita?" Luisa questioned, tone holding reluctance. That's a good idea, they weren't too far from their Encanto...only a few feet away.
Julieta nodded wearily, praying to God that she would make it without toppling over her daughter. "Sí." She forced herself up, despite the throbbing throughout her whole body. Luisa, to her utmost surprise, was able to help her up. She was still small, but Lu had grown taller than most four-year-olds.
She straightened as best she could, and looked at Luisa with a small smile, although a bit pained.
"Can you lead me, mija?"
Luisa bobbed up her head up and down, serious.
"Bueno, vamos's a seguir adelante."
It was painstakingly slow to get there and to her and Agustín's room, more so when the Casita wasn't able to magically bring her up there, but they did roll the tiles to help her move into their home.
None of her previous labors have been this bad until now. They were difficult, but she was lucky that Isabel and Luisa were around 12 hours of labor and at least an hour or two of pushing.
Although as her minutes between her contractions shortened, she wondered briefly if this was going to be a swift birth or not. That would be nice, but these contractions had her almost begging on her knees to ease some sort of discomfort and pain, unlike the labor she experienced with both her babies.
What felt like forever, Luisa turned the knob and opened the door. Julieta almost cried with relief as Lu led her to the bed. Without talking, she crawled onto the bed, not caring that there could be stains and fluids on their covers. Her hands gripped the headboard, knees pressed against the plush mattress.
Julieta didn't realize she had closed her eyes until she opened them and saw Luisa standing next to her, biting her lip and wringing her dress with her hands, nervous and nearly teary-eyed.
"Mamá in pain," she hiccuped in conclusion, face screwing up. Despite the pain buzzing over her body and belly, she reached out and tenderly brushed away her curly hair away from her face. "Te quiero, Luisa, you were very strong," Julieta comforted softly.
Luisa rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and looked at her mother with red-rimmed eyes. "I was?"
"Sí, mija, thank you for helping me," she replied truthfully, a hand on her daughter's cheek. She retracted slowly, heart-melting when Luisa grinned widely despite the circumstances.
Finally-finally, she could vaguely hear multiple loud footsteps, and then someone tripping something over, yelling, and then resuming back to running. In an instant, Agustín stood at the doorframe, looking frantically at her and then their daughter.
"Juli!"
"Agustín," she breathed in relief, wincing slightly when shifting. Calmly, he faced her daughter. "Tía Pepa and Tío Bruno is downstairs waiting for you-" he winked at her. "they have some Salpicón de frutas."
The young girl zipped past him and downstairs, a choir of children's voices filtering through the air. Agustín closed the door and went straight towards his hurting wife, a hand on her arching back.
"Mi corazón, are you okay? I heard what happened from Isa," he countered. Julieta inhaled sharply and allowed all her grueling moans and groans to emit. Her slender fingers clenched around the wooden frame, shaking it from the sheer force.
Agustín continued rubbing up and down her back, soothing soft litany of comforting words into her ear. The contraction slowly faded away and Julieta released a heavy breath.
"Abuela should be here soon, okay? Just hang in there," he soothed.
"Easy for you to say," she panted out, body tensing when the next contraction vice-gripped her. Everyone would say that Julieta was the more mature, slow to anger, and utmost kind person anyone could meet, but in the last two times she was in childbirth had been...well, her moods had switched very, very fast.
"Deep breaths, mi amor," he whispered. "Deep breaths."
It was drizzling outside, grey clouds accumulating from every direction and wind beating down on the Casita and trees.
Julieta emitted a strained scream, chest heaving as she clenched her husband's hand. Her mother was between her legs, murmuring soft assurances.
"You're doing so well, mija."
Curly strands of hair clung onto her forehead, a thin sheen of sweat covering her neck and legs. Her hair was haphazardly up and the gown she wore irritated her to no end.
She felt fingers prod deeper inside, a wordless cry escaping her lips. Her toes curled underneath her, chin pushed up to her chest, and cheeks puffing out like a balloon.
Julieta fell against Agustín as the contraction decreased, leaving her working lungs gasping for air. Agustín regarded her as she gazed up at him, a look of adoration and love on his face. He brushed away the curly hair that had fallen on her face. "We're almost there, mi amor," he toned softly.
She tried to smile, but grimaced instead, squirming slightly at the working hands in her.
While they waited for another contraction, Agustín tried to distract her. "What names have you picked for them?" he inquired tenderly. Julieta swallowed and shook her sweaty head. "Mirabel-I like the name Mirabel," she answered in a near whisper.
"No boy names?"
Again, another shake of her head. "Didn't know any boy names I liked, but I-I like Mirabel." She closed her eyes, body tensing at the upcoming spasm. "It means Wonderful."
"It's perfect," Agustín stated firmly. "A perfect name."
Alma looked up. "Come on, mi mija, let us get the shoulders out, hmm?"
Julieta nodded, curling around her pregnant belly with also Agustín's hand supporting her head as she pushed. A few tears leaked out from her clenched eyelids, the piercing pain blooming as the shoulders eased out of her body.
There were shouts of encouragement to keep going-so she did.
The pain began to grow and grow, well aware that the baby was descending at a faster rate.
Then, it gave. All the shooting pain stopped like she was numbed. Julieta gasped abruptly, brown eyes growing big as her mamá held her baby-so tiny- in her hands, a large smile spread across her mamá's face.
"We have another chica!" she exclaimed, placing the whimpering newborn onto the mother's rising and falling chest. As soon as the baby was pressed against her breast, Julieta managed to drawl up the baby girl to her face, weeping softly.
"Oh, mírala, mírala," she sobbed, thumbing those baby cheeks that the newborn inherited from her. The baby squalled, little fists waving in response, having been greeted with fresh air and coldness.
Another hand took ahold of the baby girl's waving hand, smoothing it affectionately. The corners of Agustín's couth curved into a beaming grin, eyes shimmering with tears. Alma draped a blanket across the baby's back, rubbing away the fluids that clung onto the infant.
"Hush, pequeña, your parents have you," she said, laughing when the baby mewled in response. Alma was proud of her daughter, delivering another child-another miracle.
Julieta cupped the back of the baby's head, noticing the dark, brown patch of swirls attached. Her nose twitched and those rosebud lips pursed, tiny eyeballs blinking open.
People were talking in the background, but Julieta had all her focus on the snuffling newborn, feeling a burst of oxytocin permeating throughout her entire frame. Nothing-nothing could compare this moment between a newborn and mother.
Promises flit through her head like pages in a book: softening the edges of everything that might hurt her, the yearning to defend her every breath. She was so loved-so loved, more than the baby could ever know.
"Hola, querida," the mother greeted ever so delicately, greeting another life that would soon be loved by her siblings and familia. To finally meet face-to-face with the child she's been carrying for nine months was so rewarding, despite the hard work. "Welcome to life, Mirabel Madrigal."
She wouldn't trade her family for the world if she had the choice.
The baby squirmed, whimpering into her mother's chest and shutting her eyes closed again.
As Julieta planted a kiss on the newborn's wrinkly forehead, Agustín did the same on Julieta's.
After Alma and Agustín had just finished cleaning up the newborn and the mother, the older woman went to retrieve Isabela and Luisa to meet their baby sister and allowed her exhausted daughter to be at peace with her husband.
Julieta leaned against the headboard with a few pillows supporting her aching back. She was redressed and the infant was wrapped in a clean blanket, snuggled against her mother's bare chest, nursing contently.
Once the baby was dried, she could definitely agree that the newborn inherited her hair, bouncy and soft curls. Luisa and Isa features had most of their father's, with a tint of hers, but this one was practically a copy of her. Every detail; from the curve of her rosebud lips to the dark shade of freckles sprinkled across her cheeks was perfect.
She stroked Mirabel's cheek, watching as the baby grunted in reply, but remained calm.
There was something in the back of her mind, though, that this one-her little one was different. Not that her two other daughters were special-no- they were equally special and loved, but it itched her to know why Mirabel gave her this thought.
Julieta knew that there was magic surrounding them and providing them, but it could not compare the unimaginable light every child held, including Mirabel's, Isabela's and Luisa's.
"Told you she was going to be a mini-you, amor," Agustín teased, the bed shifting when he sat next to her form. Julieta hummed in agreement, eyes lingering onto their baby.
"What are you thinking, querida?"
Julieta forced her gaze away from Mirabel's form and looked at her husband. She could see the gentle concern, but nonetheless, he was basking in pride and happiness.
She returned her view to the baby girl and noticed she had stopped suckling and merely smacked her lips, nuzzling into her warmth.
"I just have a feeling she's going to be different," Julieta murmured, lifting her gown to cover herself up and kissing her little one's temple before looking back at Agustín. He smiled good-naturedly and placed his hand on her's. "You always said that to each of our children when they were born," he chuckled.
Julieta laughed gently. "I suppose that's what I always say to newborns, hmm?"
Agustín nodded. "Sí, but I do understand what you're saying, Juli." He held them close and rested his chin on top of Julieta's head, feeling her body relax in his arms. "Our milagros."
They fell silent between each other, soaking in each other's embrace. Mirabel slept on, nestled lovingly in her mother's safe arms.
Minutes passed before Julieta shifted and observed the closed door. "Where are the rest of mi hijas?"
"Ay, I'm sure their Abuela is collecting them right up."
As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Isa and Lu with Alma, holding hands with her.
Julieta's whole demeanor brightened and Agustín held out his arm to invite them over. Without delay, they joined in their Papi's arms, giggling when he smooched kisses to their small faces.
He then hoisted them up so Julieta can do the same, although more carefully since the baby was cradled in her arms. Regardless, it showed the same amount of love and fondness.
"Is that baby sister?" Isabela asked, craning her neck towards the newborn with an awed expression. Luisa peeked behind her oldest sister, mouth opening in piqued interest.
Julieta nodded, a wide smile plastered onto her lips, knowing that Agustín had the same expression. "Sí." She moved so that the baby was in their view more clearly, hoping that her voice echoed infinite love towards and each every of one them.
"Meet your baby sister, Mirabel."