[It's a usual chaotic morning in a wartorn city in Syiria. A heavily pregnant woman enter the clinic while carrying her Ak's, she is one among the wives of Rebel's army Commander. Her pregnant belly, though hidden under her loosely long black abaya, but it's already grew enormously huge, round and heavily distended, just like grotesque mountain hidden beneath the smog of war.]

Umma: "Aaahhh,... Saallaaamm,... Mother." (She greet her midwife, Qabila as she enter her bullet tattered examination room.) "Aaahhnn,... aaahhh,..." (A pained groan escapes her clenched teeth as another wave of movement ripples across her swollen abdomen, the babies inside shifting violently. Her voice is hoarse, strained with exhaustion and fear.] "Nnh—Allah, help me... Old mother, tell me... tell me this is normal. Tell me these are children." (She asked to her midwife, Qabila, as she walks toward a seat on a cold patient's iron chair.)