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“Right—that stuff. So we just have to be patient and help her get it, right?”
Tria nodded, sniffed again, and took hold of her breast in her hand. I lifted Baby Katie up and we worked together until she finally managed to latch on the right way. Tria nearly started crying again in relief, and she finally got to sit back and relax for a few minutes until we switched sides and started all over again.
It was a little easier that time, at least.
Once she was full, our daughter fell asleep there on the pillow with Tria’s nipple half in and half out of her mouth.
“I don’t want to put her down,” Tria said as she glanced at the bassinet.
“I know,” I replied. “But you need to sleep—we both do. She’ll be right there—you can watch her the whole time. I already told them she’s staying in the room with us. I’m right here, too, so nothing’s going to happen to either one of you.”
Tria nodded reluctantly and surrendered Baby Katie to the bassinet beside the bed. I sat back down on the rolling chair, propped up a pillow so I could basically lay half of me down beside Tria without bumping into her and tearing her incision or anything. It was a tight fit, but there was no way I was going to sleep on the nasty little Flip-n-Fuck they had for new dads in the corner of the room.
With Tria’s head on my shoulder, we both watched out daughter intently. Despite the exhaustion from the last twenty-four-plus hours, neither of us could stop watching her long enough to close our eyes and fall asleep.
“She’s so pretty,” Tria whispered.
“Beautiful,” I said. “Like you.”
“She looks like you.”
“She has your eyes.”
“Your hair.”
“There isn’t enough to tell,” I said with a quiet snicker.
“It’s definitely your color,” Tria insisted. “And her ears—those are your ears.”
“They’re kinda pointy at the top.”
“The nurse said that would go away in a couple of weeks.
“Oh,” I said. I didn’t admit that was I a little disappointed. It made her look a bit like an elf or a pixie, and I thought that was kind of cool.
We watched her in silence for a few more minutes. The next time I glanced at Tria, her eyes were closed, so I wrapped an arm above her not-so-bulging stomach and settled against her on the bed. As soon as my eyes closed, I was out.
What must have been about thirty seconds later, Baby Katie was crying.
Tria struggled to get out from under me, but I told her to stay while I got up, went around the bed, and picked up my daughter. I ran a finger over her lips as I walked her back to her mother, and she tried to turn her head to suck on the end of my finger. It made me smile.
Tria got herself situated with pillows over her stomach and under her arm to try to get Baby Katie in a football hold or whatever to nurse her. It wasn’t working at all, so we switched everything around and tried the other side while Baby Katie’s cries got a little more insistent. I wasn’t sure which of them was more frustrated, and I was a little worried Tria was going to hit me.
“You aren’t helping!” she hissed.
“Well, I’m trying!” Trying to remain calm, anyway. I guess I thought Tria would instantly return to normal again once Baby Katie was born, but apparently there were a couple hormones left in there. “You tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“I want you to convince her to latch on right and eat!” Tria snapped as tears filled her eyes. “This hurts!”
My chest hurt as I couldn’t breathe again for a minute. I had seen Tria in enough pain over the last day—I didn’t want to see any more. Without knowing what else to do, I knelt down beside the bed and looked Baby Katie in the eyes.
“Listen here, girl,” I said quietly. “You need to eat, and your mama needs to get her rest. So how about you stop goofing off, and maybe get on there the right way so you’re not so frustrated, and your mama doesn’t shoot me the next time I want to fuck her.”
Tria smacked me in the back of the head.
“Don’t swear!” she scolded.
“Right…uh…I mean, the next time I want to do that shi…um…stuff moms and dads do when they want to give you a baby brother.”
