“How long are the antibiotics?”
“Ten days.”
“Okay, that’s not so bad. Your boobs can bounce back. This must happen to women all the time, and I’m sure they resume breastfeeding.”
Belle squirmed in her carrier, and Leigh lifted her out.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I meant to feed her before I came, but I totally spaced,” she said.
Belle was pawing at Leigh’s shirt. It was amazing how babies were so clear on their desires.
“I can, like, go in the hall,” Leigh said, starting to stand.
“It’s okay,” Gwen said, meaning it. “You can stay.”
Leigh remained standing. “Are you sure? I feel like it will be triggering.”
Just the fact that Gwen had acknowledged this lessened the awfulness of the situation.
“It might be, but it’s okay. Please, sit.”
Leigh sat with reluctance and looked Gwen in the eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“For the love of god, feed your damn kid.”
Leigh sighed. “I didn’t even wear the right shirt.”
It was a tight cotton T-shirt, not ideal for breastfeeding. Button-downs or flowy tunics were best. Gwen watched as Leigh lifted the T-shirt up and over her breasts, exposing her nursing bra. She unlatched the bra and stuck her right boob in Belle’s mouth. Belle latched on effortlessly, and Gwen felt like she was going to cry all over again.
“See? It’s too much, isn’t it?” Leigh said.
She looked so pained to witness Gwen’s pain, and Gwen thought that must be a definition of true love.
“It’s okay,” Gwen assured her. “Just because I can’t breastfeed doesn’t mean I don’t want you to.”
Leigh relaxed back into the chair.
“You’re a better person than me, I think. If the roles were switched, I’d probably tell you to go in the hall.”
“But would you call me a cunt?”
They both started laughing before settling into a peaceful quiet. The only sounds in the room were the occasional beeping of one of the monitors attached to Gwen, and baby Belle’s sweet suckling. June was lying happily on Gwen’s chest, not even rooting around for a nipple.
“Maybe she likes formula better,” Gwen said. She felt the sting of coming tears.
“Oh, Gwen, don’t be like this to yourself,” Leigh said.
“I feel like I’m not producing anything right now.”
“Probably because of the stress of everything. Making milk is, like, the last thing your body is focused on right now.”
Her stupid body, always going rogue.
Gwen couldn’t help but wonder what Angeni Luna would say. She was so against the use of formula. But this was a unique situation. Angeni wanted to support mothers, ultimately, didn’t she?
“What would Angeni Luna do if she were me?” Gwen asked. Her voice was soft. She was embarrassed with herself for the question.
