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Her pale teal scales, tiny and hardly formed, flex with every little breath she takes. Her tiny cries overtake the room, as the nurses crowd to see her. Her half-kaleidian side is apparent with blue scales, and a small tail clinging to my side as she looks around. I see myself in her too. In the shape of her face and ears.
“Shh,” I say on instinct, rocking her gently until her eyes reach mine. The second she hears my voice and her eyes meet me I feel a reckoning that’s been a long time coming.
She knows me.
Her little hand reaches out and finds my pinky finger.
“Goodness, Tania. She’s beautiful. Her eyes are golden.”
“Just like Garet’s. She’s perfect.”
As the dayschurn into weeks, that’s exactly what she proves to be. She’s just perfect.
She nurses like a dream, latching with ease and taking exactly what she needs from me. She’s already very active, flicking her tail against the breast opposite the one in her mouth.
“Hold on, Armani,” I tease her, twirling the tip of her tail in my fingers and tucking it in her blanket. I can tell she’s agitated, frustrated that her favorite boob isn’t giving her the milk she wants.
I pick her up and place her on my shoulder to burp her. As soon as the tiny gulps of air break free from her little chest she wriggles, sniffing in the direction of the other, untouched breast.
“Ok, ok.” I give in, helping her to it. “Somebody is very hungry.”
As soon as I say the words, a deep rumble grows in my tummy, drawing the worries back to the forefront of my mind. Before she came, I entertained the idea that I’d have more time for work after she was born. I fantasized about her sleeping the day away while I took in extra repair work.
What was I thinking?
In reality, she’s up half the night nursing, I’m exhausted, and hungry all the time. The more she nurses the more I need to eat. I’ve blown through my savings, and I shudder to think about how we’re going to get through the next few weeks, let alone the next months.
I hear a rap at the door just as she pops off the boob, having nursed herself into a milky slumber. I love this time with her and could watch her all day. She’s so sweet with her little eyelids wrapping back and forth, but the knock continues, forcing me to stand.
I set my little wonder into her crib, and walk over to check the peephole to see who is at the door. I can’t take any chances in this crappy apartment, but thankfully, it’s Alice.
“I’m so glad it's you,” I say as she comes inside, thankfully carrying a box of foodstuffs. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll bet,” she says, setting the box down. “Here sit. Is she out?”
“Yes,” I feel so weary now that she’s here like I can finally rest if just for a second.
“Take a load off while I heat this soup. I swiped some leftovers from the commissary. Sathior won’t miss a thing.”
I look at Alice, through my weary eyes and feel overcome with gratitude. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what I would do.
“Hey now, it’s okay,” she says as the tears start welling in my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m still hormonal.” I start to fidget in my chair. “I got two hours of sleep last night. She nurses constantly.”
“We need to keep you fed,” she says, standing up again to tend the soup. “She’s hungry because you’re hungry.”
“Hush! She’ll hear you. There’s not enough food in the seven galaxies for this girl.” I look over my shoulder to see her stir a little from her crib.
Alice sits with a bowl of soup and a smile. “Well, I’m glad you haven't lost your sense of humor.”
“No, just my sanity. I’m so behind in my repair work, too. I almost didn't answer the door. Your knock sounds too much like Misty’s, and I owe her three blouses and a skirt by tonight.”
“Ok,” she says cheerfully, handing me a spoon. “I’ll knock three times exactly. That way you know it’s me. I’ve got some credits for you too.”
“What? No.”
“It’s not a big deal. Sathior wanted me for an extra show this week and I got a good tip after, that’s all. You need it more than I do. Now eat up.”
