Fate of the Fallen

Isabelle was sitting upon the bank of a small river fishing for dinner when a young woman from the village nearby, Clara, came slowly into view. From this distance she appeared to be struggling under some enormous burden so Isabelle quickly reached out with her mind as her mother had taught her to do.
Hard to breathe! Pain, cramp! Oh! This baby isn't going to wait much longer!
Isabelle momentarily gasped with the pain Clara was experiencing, and she reeled her mind back in. She jumped up and ran along the river bank to Clara, sending a message as she did.
Mother! We have a visitor. It's Clara, the baby is coming!
Isabelle's mother, back at their small home a short distance away, must have detected Isabelle's excitement and slight panic.
Calmly child. Bring her home and smile! You can never offer a woman in labour enough comfort.
Isabelle nodded and forced a grin onto her face as she reached the pregnant woman. Clara reached out an arm and placed it around the girl's shoulders.
“Thank you.” Clara gasped. “But let's be quick.” Isabelle nodded in firm agreement, wrapped an arm about Clara's waist and they both set off for home.
*
Isabelle winced in sympathy as she listened to Clara's cries of pain, as she paced back and forth in front of her home. Normally her mother had her holding the hands of the women who needed their help, talking to them and helping them through the pain. But today she had taken one look at Clara and ordered Isabelle out. Isabelle had argued of course that she had done this before and listening to hours of painful screams and feeling useless couldn't be worse than attending another birth. Her mother had simply pointed at the door and out Isabelle had gone.
Normally on these occasions, the men-folk of the village related to the woman giving birth would arrive a little while later. If the baby had yet to be born, Isabelle would quickly move them off a ways as she had found men to be very stupid when it came to dealing with babies being born. They would talk about nonsense and Isabelle would excuse herself very quickly. She had asked previously of her mother why not bring the father in to watch but her mother had just laughed and said they already had one baby to deal with and they didn't need another. Isabelle was shaken from her thoughts by a scream so full of pain and anguish she actually doubled over and retched.
“Mother!” She croaked. There was silence and Isabelle cast her mind inside the house. Her mother was kneeling at the side of the bed, holding a small bundle delicately to her chest. She was weeping quietly.
“Oh no.” Isabelle whispered and she leaned against the wall for support, eyes closed in sorrow. The door opened and she looked round into the tear-filled eyes of her beautiful mother. In her arms she still held the small bundle. Isabelle looked into the folds of cloth, anxious but determined to see the face of the child the world did not want. She moved closer still, within inches of the small baby, and she jumped back with a cry as the baby began to wail. Isabelle sobbed a laugh and smiled broadly, but her mother's expression did not change.