I became Uriyah's wife before I became a woman. We were only children when the ketubah was signed. Uriyah was told what price he would have to pay as my dowry when we had come of age, but we were so young that adulthood seemed an eternity away, so although we were legally married, we rarely thought of each other.

To be honest, I was in no hurry to be taken as a wife, for I had witnessed my sisters pass into adulthood. I remembered the pain on their faces as they clutched their stomachs during the time of their monthly impurity. Furthermore, I remembered when I was first old enough to be invited to a wedding.

Qetsiyah had spent the day pacing the corridors and wringing her hands as she awaited the arrival of Gaddiyel. She seemed most nervous when she looked at the bed that had been prepared for her with the canopy above it. On the bed was a bit of cloth on which Ima had painstakingly sewn my sister's name and the date of the wedding feast.

"Do you understand what is to be done when your husband arrives?" Ima queried.

Biting her lip, Qetsiyah nodded mutely.

"Just do as you must and be done with it!" my mother advised. "It is the fate of every woman, and there's no help for it!"

"Why is she frightened?" I asked. "Uriyah and I have been married for years, and I'm not afraid of him."

"Oh, you simpleton!" my sister exclaimed in exasperation. "Wait until it happens to you! You'll have your own wedding feast someday!"

"Be kind!" Ima scolded. "I won't have you fighting with your sister. You must be beautiful and pleasant for your husband."

Qetsiyah almost burst into tears when she heard the knock at the door, punctuated by a shofar. Gaddiyel called out to my sister and those of us who would witness their marriage.

"Don't be frightened," Aunt Naamiy whispered, pulling Qetsiyah into an embrace. "Your husband is a very nervous man, not a monster. He's unsure of himself as well, but he wants to give you a good life. Just wait until you hear how many kind words he speaks to praise your beauty."

Qetsiyah silently thanked our aunt with her eyes.

"Remember what I told you about the oil."

She nodded briefly before walking over to Gaddiyel, who tried to smile encouragingly, but I noticed he looked as if he didn't have the first idea about what should happen next. His hands were sweating so badly that he wiped them on his robe before taking my sister's hands in his.

They went into the chamber together and closed the door. I waited outside the room with the other maidens chosen as witnesses. Just as I was beginning to get bored, wondering what it was that I should be doing, I heard Qetsiyah cry out in pain, followed by her tearful sobbing.

"Is she alright?" I asked, my eyes wide in horror.

My cousin, Yonit, put her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "All women must submit themselves to injury when they become wives. You'll understand when you're older."

Gaddiyel shouted joyfully. Shortly afterwards, he came out of the room, proudly displaying linen that had been stained with blood. The male wedding guests congratulated him for finding a pure wife, and after Avi and Ima had inspected the cloth, they gave it to Qetsiyah for safe keeping.

My sister was still crying. "Oh, Ima! Why must women…?"

"Quiet!" Ima scolded. "Would you ruin this day of celebration with your senseless tears? You'll have worse pain during childbirth!"

Unable to understand what had happened, I was horrified, but Yonit simply stated that it was a part of life. Besides, in a strange manner, it was also beautiful; a man and a woman went from being nervous and clumsy in each other's presence to uniting as one flesh as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A man was forced to use all his emotional strength for physical pleasure, and a woman was forced to endure physical pain to experience emotions she never imagined. Both people found great delight, but both were required to make a sacrifice for it.

"Do you understand now?" Yonit queried gently

I still didn't understand at all, but I appreciated the way my cousin was trying to comfort me for my future marriage, so I said nothing.

We formed a joyous procession and ceremonial escorted Qetsiyah to the home of her new husband, where a splendid feast awaited us. However, I didn't have much of an appetite. I wondered what wound Gaddiyel had inflicted on his bride and why he had been pleased with himself for harming her. Had Avi hurt Ima like that when they were first married? Would Uriyah hurt me?

I was even less excited about marriage when another of my sisters, Odeleya, brought forth her firstborn. She spent months growing fatter, complaining that she could barely move, for her hips were kicked in and out of socket, and the pressure inside her body was so great that she could hardly breathe. Her ankles became swollen, and she suffered frequent bouts of nausea. She complained that parts of her body ached so dreadfully that she could scarcely bear to put on her robe. Furthermore, she was so exhausted that she spent most of her time sleeping.

After begging my mother for weeks, I was allowed to watch the birth of my nephew, but I was horrified by what I saw. Odeleya no longer had her modesty, her dignity, or her privacy. Pains seized control of her body so strongly that she was no longer in her right mind. She was hoarse from her horrendous shrieks, and her robe was drenched in sweat. She had also lost control of all bodily functions.

I hoped the baby would be born quickly, but Odeleya lay in anguish for hours. Even between her pains, the fear remained in her eyes. She began to pray for her own death, that she might suffer no longer.

Aunt Naamiy tried to comfort her. She brought Odeleya flowers and reminded her that nearly every woman in the history of the world had been a mother, and all mothers had suffered for the sake of their babies. My aunt kept dabbing my sister's brow with a damp cloth and reminding her how wonderful it would be to hold the tiny miracle in her arms.

"Your baby will be the most beautiful sight in the world," she stated. "Your husband will be so proud of you, and you'll be smiling down on a pair of innocent, helpless eyes trusting you completely, and you'll hold the baby to your shoulder and feel the tiny heart beat next to your own. The baby will coo and pat you in its sleep to make sure you're still there, and you'll enjoy the warmth of each other's embrace."

Odeleya seemed to have taken leave of her senses. There was no sense of reason or expectant hope about her, just a screaming mass of torment. Her eyes had taken on a sort of glaze, almost like a mad dog.

"It's different for all women," Yonit explained to me. "For some mothers, it just feels like very strong indigestion, not nearly as bad as they fear. For others, it's like this, far worse than anything they could imagine. Sometimes it feels like the whole abdomen tightens. Other times, it's a severe backache or feeling like there's a dark shape or a lump of fire inside the body."

"Come!" Ima beckoned to me. "You want to be here, Bathsheva, so come see how babies are born."

I do not care to remember the horrific sight of my sister's body. It looked worse than a butchered sheep. I wondered how midwives ever tolerated such filth or how much pain a woman had to feel before she stopped caring about having her body exposed for the world to see.

Just before midnight, the midwife announced that the baby would arrive shortly. However, she had to grab the infant and turn it while it was still inside my sister while Aunt Naamiy and Yonit held the mother's knees and ankles. Odeleya screamed in even worse pain than she had felt previously, sobbing and begging for mercy, but the midwife continued tugging on the baby until she was satisfied.

"A few more strong pushes, dear," the midwife instructed.

"I can't!" Odeleya rasped breathlessly.

"The baby has to be born!" Ima retorted. "Now push!"

"I don't have the strength!"

To my surprise, Ima slapped Odeleya across the face. "It is your duty as a woman to give your husband children. No one cares if you're tired or weak. It has to be done. The baby must be born, and there's no help for it. Now do what the midwife says."

My sister put all her effort into one tremendous heave, falling backward from the effort. The midwife pulled a slimy blob from Odeleya's limp body.

"You have a strong daughter!" she announced proudly.

Odeleya didn't respond. She simply remained completely motionless.

"Wake up!" Ima exclaimed, shaking her. "The baby has arrived. This is what you wanted, so see what you've done."

My sister's unblinking eyes were fixed on the window in a blank stare. They seemed vacant, lacking all expression of emotion. Even when the midwife placed the baby in her arms, Odeleya's eyes remained staring at the window. They were beginning to look as if they were made of glass.

Ima took a bowl of water and a cloth. She lightly began dabbing my sister's face, scolding her for her foolishness. After all, every mother since the beginning of time has had to endure the misery of childbirth. There was no excuse for lying helplessly when the baby needed her.

Seeing that Odeleya still didn't blink or move her eyes, Ima sighed, gently pressing my sister's eyelids to make them close. The midwife adjusted my sister's robe so the baby could nurse for the first and last time.

"At least she will be spared the complications that happen to a woman's body after she gives birth," Ima remarked.

I thought how sad it was for my little niece to grow up without knowing her mother. How would Odeleya's husband react when he found out his beloved wife was dead?

When we returned home, I was unable to sleep. Was there a way Uriyah and I could break our agreement to wed when we were older? If he divorced me publicly, I would be disgraced, and Uriyah would keep my dowry. If we divorced privately, Uriyah would be disgraced, and he would have to return my dowry and pay a fine of fifty shekels.

Ultimately, I knew I had no choice. It was my place to submit to the wishes of my father and husband. As my mother often reminded me, there was no help for it.