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"You know, to stop the milk flow."
"Milk. Of course." Tess felt like an idiot for forgetting that a body that had just given birth would produce milk.
"I'll go get Savannah," he said, turning for the door.
"No! I don't want to be wrapped. I want to breast-feed him."
"What?"
"It's well documented that mother's milk is full of necessary nutrients and antibodies." She smiled down at Caleb. Warmth spilled through her body, and for a second, she really felt like his mom.
"But, you've never ... nursed the kids."
Tess shrugged. "How hard can it be?"
An hour later, Tess had to admit it could be very difficult indeed.
Caleb was crying bloody murder, a high-pitched bleating sound that pinged up and down every vertebra and rattled in her head like an off-key rendition of "Jingle Bells." Jack was standing along the far wall, arms crossed across his chest, eyes riveted on the drama unfolding in the bed. He seemed completely unwilling to help in any way.
"Come on, Caleb," she murmured for the thousandth time, "let's try again." She eased him toward her left breast. He grabbed hold with both tiny hands and tried to suckle, but her breast was so hard and swollen, he couldn't latch on.
"Here you go, sweetie, try again." She curled Caleb in a new hold and pressed his face to her other breast. His mouth was a hairsbreadth from her swollen nipple.
Please, oh, please?
He screamed in frustration.
Tess felt like screaming right along with him. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. Caleb became a squirming red blur with a gaping mouth.
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Fear curled around her throat and made it difficult to draw a breath. She wouldn't be able to feed him. Oh, God, how would he live if she couldn't feed him?
Oh, God ...
"Are you all right?" Jack's quiet voice filtered through the fog of Tess's frustration and made her cry. Aching, soundless sobs that shook her entire body and parched her throat.
He moved to the end of the bed and stood there, waiting. "Amarylis?"
She couldn't look at him. She felt so humiliated and afraid. No wonder God had never given her children in her previous life. She was useless as a mother.
He sat beside her. The tired old bed creaked, and the mattress buckled beneath his weight. Shaking and afraid, she looked up at him. "I can't do it. I can't ..." Tears clogged her throat until she couldn't speak. All she could do was sit there, helplessly staring at him.
"You don't have to."
"Please," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Help me ..."
Surprise widened his eyes, and Tess knew instinctively that it had been a long time since Amarylis had asked for his help. She thought for a moment he was going to refuse, then quietly he said, "I'll get Savannah."
He started to get up, and she grabbed his sleeve. He paused, turned toward her.
"Thanks." It was a watery, pitiful little word th
at didn't say nearly enough, and yet she couldn't push anything more past the huge lump in her throat.
"Sure," he answered stiffly. Then he was gone.