"Feeding Time" --
CM>^.,.^<,
“Hey, there buddy! I know you like Mom
better, but you’ve got to give her a break sometime. This is
the same stuff, I promise!”
Once again, the tiny infant
spit out the nipple. Unlike his brother Carl, no way, no how, was
Harry going to accept a bottle.
Harm felt pretty helpless.
Mac was exhausted. After three years of trying, finally on their
second attempt at IVF, she’d gotten pregnant with twin boys.
She'd only been out of the hospital for a few days.
About
everything that could go wrong with the pregnancy had. She’d
ended up with an infection after an emergency c-section and really
wasn’t up to taking care of two babies yet.
The boys
were of course fraternal twins, and about as unalike as two siblings
could be.
Carl was good natured, hardly ever cried and slept
through the night. Harry had colic, was cranky every waking minute
and hated to have his routine disturbed by as much as a minute.
Harm
had tried to keep from waking Mac who had fallen asleep on the living
room sofa. However, something, probably maternal instinct or Harry's
bloodcurdling screams, had kicked in. He looked up from his crimson
faced son to see her standing in the doorway of the nursery.
She
reached over to take Harry from him, while simultaneously unbuttoning
her blouse and releasing her bra. He looked at her with a small smile
of defeat on his face.
“He hates me.”
She
chuckled. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s only ten days
old, he barely knows you. He just isn’t crazy about rubber, I
guess.” Having gotten what he wanted, Harry was finally quiet.
She looked up from the now content baby to her husband with an
exhausted smile. "Never mind, thanks for trying.”
Harm
thought back at all they had been through trying to bring these two
little boys into the world.
Aside from a rather embarrassing
test, and basically the same “procedure” again when they
decided to try invitro, the entire burden had fallen on Mac. She
never complained, even when the hormones to stimulate her ovaries
were giving her migraines, she had to stay in bed for four months, or
even after the birth when she was running a raging fever.
He'd
hated that there seemed to be so little he could do. Now, one of the
babies didn't even want Dad to feed him. Sensing that letting her
know he felt helpless wasn't the way to go, Harm decided that perhaps
levity was how to handle it. He reached into the other bassinet where
Carl had started to stir, and picked him up.
“So, are we
even now? On all this giving birth stuff, I mean?”
Mac
looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Not even close, Flyboy,
not even close.”