Through some impossible feat, I was so caught up in the feelings that the breastfeeding problem brought up in me that I’d forgotten Taras was in the room.
“Is this a normal thing to happen with babies, or could it be because they’re premature?” he asked, sounding like he genuinely cared, and I almost believed it for a second.
Shaking her head from side to side, the nurse replied, “I won’t say it’s common or uncommon, and it even happens with full-term babies. Sometimes baby just needs to work on their sucking, and sometimes they prefer the ease of a bottle. As we explained to Penny, babies sometimes need to have a small surgery done, where we just cut the piece of skin that connects the underside of the tongue to the floor of the mouth.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he looked down at Hendrix.
“But neither of the boys are tongue-tied, so we don’t have to do this. They’re eating a lot, and well, so it may just be a case of patience and perseverance.”
Taras let out an audible breath. “This is good, then.”
“It tends to affect the mother more than the babies, because it’s quite an emotional thing breastfeeding your child, and having issues with it can be upsetting and stressful,” she told him, and he looked up at me like he was trying to read my emotions.
“It’ll happen, dorogoy,” he assured me, using a word I’d never understood when he’d used it before. “But they’ve put on weight and are strong boys. So no matter what, you’ve done the best for them, and it’s paying off.”
I didn’t want to let him know how much those words meant to me, especially coming from him—a man who, if the rumors I’d heard were correct, had no issues killing someone. But I couldn’t help the way my face softened for a split-second, before I managed to get control of it again.
“Okay, I think I’ve covered everything, but we’ll go through it all with you in more detail on Friday. If you’ve got any questions between now and then, just ask one of us,” the nurse said through a huge smile.
“They’ll probably be wanting their next feed in just over an hour. So if you press the button, we can bring through the bottles with the milk you gave us.”
This was something we’d done every day since the boys were able to be fed in this room. I expressed milk and froze it in bags that I brought in every day with me, and the bags were then warmed up and put into a bottle. Not only was it sterile and easy for me to do, but apparently it helped prevent colic, too. I hadn’t known anything about this sort of thing until they’d explained it to me.
“Okay, and thank you so much for all of your help,” I told her. “I can’t wait to take them home.”
Grinning at me, she asked, “What colors have you done the nursery up in?”
Chuckling quietly, and doing my best not to jiggle the sleeping baby against my chest, I said, “My brother, dad, and some of their friends did it, so it’s Harley Davidson themed. The floor has a light varnish on it, but the walls are a pale gray with water-colored Harley prints on them.
“They wanted to get black beds, but I ordered white wooden ones because I hated the black version. One of the men’s wives is also good at sewing, and she made them bedding using a material with Harleys and the logo on them. I bought soft white, brushed cotton sheets with dark gray stars on them to finish it off.”
The nurse burst out laughing after I was done, and it was so infectious that I started, too.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she asked, wiping under her eyes. “You know, we’ve never had a group of big men visit the nursery before, but those guys have been there every day to say hi to your boys. We tried to stop it, but because the boys were in a side room on their own and you’d put approved visitor names on a list, they were allowed in.”
This I knew because I was usually here during it, or I got a text with a photo from one of them if I wasn’t.
“The first thing they do is pull out their ID, say their name, and then use enough of the antibacterial gel to sterilize ten men and go through. I wouldn’t have believed men like that were capable of cooing and baby talk unless I’d seen it myself. It’s become the lunchtime topic of the year.”
“They have a lot of uncles who love them.” And I loved that for my sons.
“What about you?” she asked Taras. “You don’t look like a biker. Has your family come to meet your sons?”