Post by Rachy on Dec 11, 2011 8:32:00 GMT 10
To: Opalgirl
Message: Happy holidays, Val! I hope this fulfils what you were looking for with this prompt, hopefully not containing too many clichés. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it
From: Rachy
Title: Hurdles, Struggles and Love
Rating: PG-13
Wishlist Item: #1. Alanna adjusting as a new mum (and possibly being totally inept at it).
Summary and Warnings: Alanna takes a journey along the road of motherhood, with all the hurdles, struggles and love it contains.
Contains details of breast-feeding, as well as mentions of behaviour for a pregnant woman that would be frowned upon in modern times, like horse-riding whilst pregnant.
Notes: As I have never been a mother and based this on bits of research, I apologise for any inaccuracies. The lyrics, in italics, are from “The Tireless Beggar” as mentioned and quoted in the first chapter of Lioness Rampant.
“George?” She asks, her voice whisper-quiet, looking ahead on the path. He turns, a finger already raised to his lips, and raises an eyebrow. She grimaces, her fingers clenched around her sword hilt, and rests her other hand on her belly. His footsteps are soft in the dirt as he walks back to her, resting a warm hand on her back.
“Lass?” He whispers, hand rubbing her back soothingly.
“I think the baby’s coming.” She whispers back, flexing her fingers away from her sword hilt as George’s hand freezes on her back.
“Lass, it can’t be. Remember, Ma said sometimes a woman felt like the babe was going to come but then the contractions went away and the babe came when it was supposed to?” He smiles, reassuringly, and wraps his arm around her.
“I know what Eleni said. She also said that if that was the case it was rare, and that it only lasted for a couple of hours or so.” She pulls away slightly, and George’s arm loosens.
“Lass, how long’ve you been feeling like the babe’s going to come?” He asks, a sharp tone entering his voice.
“I don’t know.” She says, stepping away and glancing up at him in the dusky light filtering through the trees. He scowls back at her.
“You don’t know.”
“I thought it was just from riding. You know I haven’t ridden in a while, and I hate riding side-saddle but everyone said if I was going to ride then I’d be more comfortable in that or a wagon. And I didn’t want you to go by your –“ She stops, her hand retreating back to her bump and her face contorting in pain, her other hand grasping George’s arm as he reaches to steady her.
“You didn’t want me to go meeting dangerous fellows without you. And I didn’t want to leave you lonesome in the Swoop. So now, my love, we’re in a pickle.” He pulls her into his arms, resting his head on hers. “We can’t go into the town in case we blow our covers, and I ain’t trusting that no one will go reporting we’re around and take advantage of our state. We can try contacting Jon or Baird or Ma or Maude through the fire, but the babe and the timing seems like it’s gonna come too soon for us to get help. We’ll go back to the horses.” She nods in reply, and he keeps an arm around her as they walk back down the path.
“George, if we can’t get help...” She asks, reaching up and fingering the coolness of the ember stone.
“We’ll just have to work together.” He says confidently.
“Oh, because you’ve birthed babies before.” She snaps, rolling her eyes.
“Ma’s a midwife. She sat me down and told me all the grisly details of what would happen if I ever got a lass with child, and then she sat me down when we said we were expecting a little one and told me I had to know some things with us being who we are and to stop me from being a nervous wreck when your screams threaten to bring the Swoop down. And you’ve got the Gift, lass, and you’ve healed before –“
“In a field hospital full of men!”
“But you’ve been around women who’ve had their children. You’ve been talking with Thayet, and Cythera, and Ma, and Maude.”
“And there’s still so much that could go wrong. Look at my mother. At Jon’s mother.” Her hand grabs his, resting on the side of her belly, and clenches it tightly, and they both wince as another contraction passes.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not you, my darling, and not our little one. Okay?” He presses a kiss to her hair, her forehead and tilts her chin upwards, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “If things look like they’ll even think to go wrong for a second I’ll call on the Goddess and she’ll come for you.”
-
She watches as the baby bundled in blankets attempts to suckle at her breast, thin flecks of hair covering his head, his eyes, just like George’s, wide and blinking up at her. He is so small, so tiny when she remembers how big Roald and Kally were, loud and squalling, and even to Liam, smaller than his siblings, he seems so small and fragile. He latches on to her breast and begins to suckle, and she winces at the slight sting of pain. George walks back into the clearing, holding their drenched tunics and two full waterskins, water still dripping off his hair, and kneels next to her, dropping a soft kiss on their son’s head and a lingering one on hers. He wraps a bare arm around them.
“How’s our little Thom?” George asks, and she remembers that the baby is not the baby or it anymore or a little lass or lad, but Thom, the name they had decided upon when Eleni had confirmed that she was with child if the child was a lad.
“He took a while to suckle. But he’s feeding now. No wails, or crying.”
“That’s good then. And you?”
“I would love a bath. But a waterskin and tunics will do for now.”
“Once we get back to the Swoop, you can have as many hot baths as you like. And sleep.”
“Eleni and the others should be here soon, shouldn’t they?”
“We’re a good seven hours ride out of the Swoop, and about the same from Corus. Riding hard, even with a wagon, should take about five hours, and it’s been almost that since we called her through the fire.” He shifts so he is sitting on the ground, legs stretched out, and Alanna leans further into his chest.
“You’re not in pain, are you?” George asks, a tinge of worry in his voice.
“Nowhere feels like it hurts more than it’s supposed to. I can’t feel anything wrong. But, no one ever mentioned that nursing would hurt. I’m not in pain,” she adds, feeling him stiffen. “Not very much pain, anyway. It’s just a bit hard to get used to.” He nods, wrapping his arms tighter around them as Thom’s eyes flutter closed and their ears strain for the sound of horse’s hooves.
-
“Oh, my dear.” Maude cries, sweeping Alanna into her arms without the barest glance towards George, cradling Thom in his arms next to Alanna. She hugs her back tightly, the slightest of tears skating down her cheeks as she breathes in Maude’s familiar smell.
“Thank you.” She whispers, and Maude squeezes her gently before letting her go. She gives George’s cheek a brief kiss before turning her attention to the baby in his arms.
“Well aren’t you a fine fellow.” She smiles, scooping Thom out of George’s arms, who only smiles wryly as Maude bounces him in her arms, cooing down at him.
“Welcome to Pirates’ Swoop, Maude. Thank you for coming, and earlier than we thought.” George says, and Maude shakes her head at him.
“One babe is easier to look after than Lady Rispah and Coram’s brood. This little lad looks like he’ll be a quiet little babe if he’s anything like his mama, it was only when she was toddling around that she was getting up to mischief and that won’t be for a bit more, and there’s not much I wouldn’t do for your lass.” Maude says, and Alanna smiles back at her. It has been only three days since Thom was born and her whole world shifted, but with Maude’s arrival it feels like she is gaining ground under her feet again. Eleni and Myles walk out of the main doors of the castle towards their group in the courtyard, and Maude heads towards them. She can already hear the gushing over Thom and what a fine little babe he is, and George takes her arm in his as they walk. She rests against him with a sigh, and ponders if they would still think him such a fine babe if they were attending his squalls throughout the night and his painful suckling and accompanying wails at any time.
-
“Eleni?” Alanna calls, and her mother-in-law looks up from the basin, steam from the pots behind her wreathing her face. “His diaper. It’s a different colour.” Eleni walks over from the bath water, wiggling her finger at Thom, who reaches in vain to grab at it, and looks at the fouled diaper Alanna holds, studying it.
“It’s normal.” She pronounces, folding the diaper up again. Alanna raises her eyebrows.
“Normal?” She asks incredulously.
“It changes. Your milk. It becomes more so that the baby can get all it needs from it. More filling. And so it changes their messes, too. Have you not noticed a change in your milk? Thicker?”
“It’s been more painful, but I don’t know if it’s thicker. He’s just seemed to need to feed more, like he’s not getting enough.”
“What sort of pain have you been feeling?” Eleni questions, looking slightly worried.
“Should I not have been feeling pain?” Alanna replies.
“Not very much. If he suckles a bit too much or suckles without latching on proper, you would get pain. And it’s with your milk coming, isn’t it?” At Alanna’s nod, she continues. “Your milk should come, and then another wave should come. If he needs to feed more, he might not be getting that whole second wave, or the second wave’s not coming. I’ll see what Maude thinks.”
“And the pain?”
“I’m not sure.” Eleni sighs. “We’ll talk with Maude, and we’ll see if we can make something that’ll help you be more calm and relax a bit more, that sometimes helps.” She rests a hand on Alanna’s shoulder, and the familiar feeling of a cooling, soothing magic sweeps through her body. “It’s not your fault, so don’t even think it. We wouldn’t be mothers if we knew what was coming everytime with every babe. It’s a journey.” Eleni wraps her in a hug, wiping away the tear that slips down Alanna’s cheek, and turns her attention to a whimpering Thom in his blankets, grabbing him a clean diaper from the pile.
-
She holds Thom firmly and supportively in her arms, as he nurses. The chair rocks slightly as she shifts, and she takes the moment to relax, Thom suckling contentedly and the dressing room they have been using as a nursery quiet. Thom gives a small moan as he stops suckling, and she pats his hair reassuringly.
“There, there.” She murmurs. “There, there.” She resists temptation to tap her feet impatiently for the second wave of milk to come, and reminds herself to be calm and patient and relaxed, even if Thom‘s suckling attempts are painful and he is whimpering from still being hungry. She winces as he begins to suckle in earnest again, pain tingling through her breast, and waits for him to stop fidgeting before letting the chair rock a little again. She gently unlatches him and swaps his position once he has settled, giving a small yelp as he kicks and flails around in the process. He turns his head away and she heaves a sigh, fidgeting and coaxing him to suckle again, but his flailing returns anew and after a series of painful kicks towards her ribcage, and more fidgeting, she gives up.
-
“Such sights the Princes never did see/And they honour the Beggar to this very day.”
Alanna sings, her voice soft, as she bounces Thom gently in her arms. He continues to wail as she enters the next verse, and if she was not so tired she would admire his ability to harmonise with her off key notes. His wailing progresses to face-contorting sobs, and she sits back down in the rocking chair, cradling him against her.
“Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s okay, Thom. It’s okay. Mama’s here. Mama’s here. Shhhh.”
She repeats it like a prayer, her voice going quieter and quieter, until Thom’s wailing pauses. She stands and rests him in his crib, tucking his blankets around him, and giving him a kiss on the forehead, blowing the candle out as she walks to the door. She pulls back the covers on George’s side of the bed and lies down, resting her head on the pillow. It’s the first time he has had to go away since Thom has been born, and she has not realised how much she has been relying on him until now, when she lies alone in their bed. She fiddles the emberstone between her fingers, toying with it and yawns, drifting off to sleep when she hears a sob start.
“Thom, not again.” She walks into the room, a pale light appearing between her fingers and lighting the candle, too tired and weak to maintain her Gift as a light for however long it took Thom to go to sleep. She looks down at him and he sobs up at her, her arms already reaching in to pick him up.
“Please stop. Please stop, Thom.” She rocks him in her arms, to no avail, runs her Gift through him to see there is nothing wrong, walks around the room with him and he still wails.
“You don’t want to feed. You don’t want your nappy changed. You’re not by yourself while we’re off having fun, and you’ve got me giving you attention. You won’t sleep, and I’ve tried everything. If your Da was here.” She stops, sniffs. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m sorry, Thom. Mama’s sorry.”
She carries him into the bedroom, placing him on the pillows and settling herself, before resting him against her chest. His sobs have slowed again to whimpers, and she runs her hand along his back soothingly, waiting until they are both too worn out to do anything but sleep.
-
George wakes up early, automatically putting his arm over his wife and snuggling closer to her side of the bed, only to discover that her side of the bed is cold and empty. He glances around the room and sees the flicker of low candlelight behind the screen in the dressing room that has become the nursery, and with a small sigh kicks off the covers and tugs a blanket from the end of the bed. His footsteps are quiet against the cold of the stone floor and he shivers a little, walking around the screen to see what he expected. Alanna sleeps in the rocking chair, her dressing gown wrapped around her and Thom cradled in her arms against her chest. Both his wife and his son sleep soundly for once, and he hesitates, the blanket loose in his hands and guilt nagging at him. The instinct to cover them up warmly shoots through him, as does the knowledge that his wife did not wake him up nor did the crying of his son, and he cannot remember the last time Alanna slept the night not in the rocking chair at some stage. It is the tear stains on her cheeks and her red eyes that decide for him, and he eases Thom out of her arms and into his cot, careful not to wake him. He rests him gently on the blanket, watching as his son snuggles into the warmth, and kisses his forehead softly. He turns back to his wife and sighs. She looks drained, and the helpless feeling swamps him again.
“My love, you can’t go on like this.” He says softly, scooping her out of the chair. She nestles against him, still asleep, and he blows the candle out, noticing the wax pooled. He carries her back to their bed and settles her in, tucking blankets around her and pecking her cheek before he takes his clothes from the chair and dresses. He stops at the door, heading for his office to do some work before breakfast and looks back. Alanna is curled towards where he would be, and he feels a wave of guilt upon seeing how lost and alone she looks, as well as the weightlessness he felt when she was in his arms. His reports can wait, and he pulls off his shoes and climbs back into bed, snuggling his wife into his arms.
-
“Lass, maybe we should try a wet nurse.” They eat breakfast at the dining table, and her fingers twist around her spoon.
“No.” She says firmly. George sighs, crunching into an apple.
“You’re in pain.”
“Don’t tell me how I’m feeling.” She snaps, blowing on her spoon.
“I’m not telling you how you’re feeling, I’m tellin’ you what I see. There’s nothing shameful about”
“I don’t need help!” She cries, splashing porridge on the table. They stare at each other, and Alanna sinks her head into her hands. “I don’t need help.” Her voice is firm, and he pushes his chair back from the table, watching as her face sinks further into her hands. She flinches when he rests a hand on her shoulder, and he kneels and gathers her into his arms.
“This is the one thing I can do for him. It’s the only thing Thom needs me for, that he wants me for. This is the only thing he’ll accept me on, that I’m not some second choice.”
“You’re his mother, Alanna. Nothing’s going to change that. He’s always going to love you, no matter what.”
“There’s other things than a wet nurse. Cow’s milk, goat’s milk, with a spoon or in a waterskin. Maude mentioned them. They should be enough to keep him healthy, and I will still feed him.”
“We’ll start him with it today, then.” She starts, glaring at him and ready to protest, and he raises an eyebrow. “You can give him a feed now, and then we’ll chat with Maude and the cook and have some fun seeing what he likes best.” She pulls away from him, sitting back in her chair and scooping porridge onto her spoon.
“I don’t like seeing you like this. You may not like it, but Alanna, you can’t do everything, no matter how hard you try or how much you want to. Sometimes you need a bit of help to make things easier in the long run. That’s all we’re doing.” He says quietly, and she turns back to him.
“I know I can’t do everything. This was just the one thing I could. My one bonding moment.” She sighs, and twines their fingers together, an offering of peace.
-
Maude leaves the nursery once she arrives, and she smiles around the big room. Thom has been settled in it for only a few days, and after a month of sharing their dressing room, the room is far more suited to a baby. It is cheerfully decorated, with hangings adorning the walls and bright curtains across the windows, and she has already noticed that there is more than enough comfortable room for at least another crib, and wonders. She knows still that George would like another, and seeing how happy Thom has made him, made both of them, really, when she takes away the sleepless nights and the nursing pain and the general disruption a baby caused to their routine, she cannot hide the fact that Thom has made her life brighter, day by day. She wanders over to his crib, and smiles again to see that he is awake. He gives her a coo and flails his arms a little, and she picks him out of the crib, bouncing him a little in her arms.
“And how are you today, Thom?” She kisses his head, ruffling the hair so like her own. “You were such a good boy to sleep for so long last night! Yes, you were!” She laid him down on the blankets on the floor, untangling his little fingers from tugging on her hair. “Don’t grab that. Look, here’s your bear. Hang on to that instead, okay? And then we’ll check your diaper and see if you need changing before we go see Grandpapa and Grandmama come again and Uncle Coram and Aunt Rispah arrive and then we’ll see how spoilt you get, won’t we?” She unwraps the blankets covering him as he stares up at her, and the familiar scent causes her to cringe her nose. “You do need a diaper changing, don’t you?” Thom flails his arms in reply, and she grins, reaching out to tickle him. He squirms happily in his blankets and she laughs, a delighted smile on her face. She reaches out to tickle him again, and he kicks his legs, his face wrinkling. She pulls her hand away, and Thom looks up at her, eyes wide and mouth contorted in what could only be described as a smile. Alanna blinks down at him, a smile breaking slowly over her face as the smile on Thom’s face holds, and she picks him up, cradling him in her arms.
“Is that a smile? Did you just give Mama a smile?” He flails a little against her, and she smiles, pressing a kiss on his forehead.
“Let’s go get you changed, and then we’ll go tell Da. He’s going to be sad he missed you smiling, but we’ll get you to do it again, won’t we?”
Message: Happy holidays, Val! I hope this fulfils what you were looking for with this prompt, hopefully not containing too many clichés. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it
From: Rachy
Title: Hurdles, Struggles and Love
Rating: PG-13
Wishlist Item: #1. Alanna adjusting as a new mum (and possibly being totally inept at it).
Summary and Warnings: Alanna takes a journey along the road of motherhood, with all the hurdles, struggles and love it contains.
Contains details of breast-feeding, as well as mentions of behaviour for a pregnant woman that would be frowned upon in modern times, like horse-riding whilst pregnant.
Notes: As I have never been a mother and based this on bits of research, I apologise for any inaccuracies. The lyrics, in italics, are from “The Tireless Beggar” as mentioned and quoted in the first chapter of Lioness Rampant.
“George?” She asks, her voice whisper-quiet, looking ahead on the path. He turns, a finger already raised to his lips, and raises an eyebrow. She grimaces, her fingers clenched around her sword hilt, and rests her other hand on her belly. His footsteps are soft in the dirt as he walks back to her, resting a warm hand on her back.
“Lass?” He whispers, hand rubbing her back soothingly.
“I think the baby’s coming.” She whispers back, flexing her fingers away from her sword hilt as George’s hand freezes on her back.
“Lass, it can’t be. Remember, Ma said sometimes a woman felt like the babe was going to come but then the contractions went away and the babe came when it was supposed to?” He smiles, reassuringly, and wraps his arm around her.
“I know what Eleni said. She also said that if that was the case it was rare, and that it only lasted for a couple of hours or so.” She pulls away slightly, and George’s arm loosens.
“Lass, how long’ve you been feeling like the babe’s going to come?” He asks, a sharp tone entering his voice.
“I don’t know.” She says, stepping away and glancing up at him in the dusky light filtering through the trees. He scowls back at her.
“You don’t know.”
“I thought it was just from riding. You know I haven’t ridden in a while, and I hate riding side-saddle but everyone said if I was going to ride then I’d be more comfortable in that or a wagon. And I didn’t want you to go by your –“ She stops, her hand retreating back to her bump and her face contorting in pain, her other hand grasping George’s arm as he reaches to steady her.
“You didn’t want me to go meeting dangerous fellows without you. And I didn’t want to leave you lonesome in the Swoop. So now, my love, we’re in a pickle.” He pulls her into his arms, resting his head on hers. “We can’t go into the town in case we blow our covers, and I ain’t trusting that no one will go reporting we’re around and take advantage of our state. We can try contacting Jon or Baird or Ma or Maude through the fire, but the babe and the timing seems like it’s gonna come too soon for us to get help. We’ll go back to the horses.” She nods in reply, and he keeps an arm around her as they walk back down the path.
“George, if we can’t get help...” She asks, reaching up and fingering the coolness of the ember stone.
“We’ll just have to work together.” He says confidently.
“Oh, because you’ve birthed babies before.” She snaps, rolling her eyes.
“Ma’s a midwife. She sat me down and told me all the grisly details of what would happen if I ever got a lass with child, and then she sat me down when we said we were expecting a little one and told me I had to know some things with us being who we are and to stop me from being a nervous wreck when your screams threaten to bring the Swoop down. And you’ve got the Gift, lass, and you’ve healed before –“
“In a field hospital full of men!”
“But you’ve been around women who’ve had their children. You’ve been talking with Thayet, and Cythera, and Ma, and Maude.”
“And there’s still so much that could go wrong. Look at my mother. At Jon’s mother.” Her hand grabs his, resting on the side of her belly, and clenches it tightly, and they both wince as another contraction passes.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not you, my darling, and not our little one. Okay?” He presses a kiss to her hair, her forehead and tilts her chin upwards, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “If things look like they’ll even think to go wrong for a second I’ll call on the Goddess and she’ll come for you.”
-
She watches as the baby bundled in blankets attempts to suckle at her breast, thin flecks of hair covering his head, his eyes, just like George’s, wide and blinking up at her. He is so small, so tiny when she remembers how big Roald and Kally were, loud and squalling, and even to Liam, smaller than his siblings, he seems so small and fragile. He latches on to her breast and begins to suckle, and she winces at the slight sting of pain. George walks back into the clearing, holding their drenched tunics and two full waterskins, water still dripping off his hair, and kneels next to her, dropping a soft kiss on their son’s head and a lingering one on hers. He wraps a bare arm around them.
“How’s our little Thom?” George asks, and she remembers that the baby is not the baby or it anymore or a little lass or lad, but Thom, the name they had decided upon when Eleni had confirmed that she was with child if the child was a lad.
“He took a while to suckle. But he’s feeding now. No wails, or crying.”
“That’s good then. And you?”
“I would love a bath. But a waterskin and tunics will do for now.”
“Once we get back to the Swoop, you can have as many hot baths as you like. And sleep.”
“Eleni and the others should be here soon, shouldn’t they?”
“We’re a good seven hours ride out of the Swoop, and about the same from Corus. Riding hard, even with a wagon, should take about five hours, and it’s been almost that since we called her through the fire.” He shifts so he is sitting on the ground, legs stretched out, and Alanna leans further into his chest.
“You’re not in pain, are you?” George asks, a tinge of worry in his voice.
“Nowhere feels like it hurts more than it’s supposed to. I can’t feel anything wrong. But, no one ever mentioned that nursing would hurt. I’m not in pain,” she adds, feeling him stiffen. “Not very much pain, anyway. It’s just a bit hard to get used to.” He nods, wrapping his arms tighter around them as Thom’s eyes flutter closed and their ears strain for the sound of horse’s hooves.
-
“Oh, my dear.” Maude cries, sweeping Alanna into her arms without the barest glance towards George, cradling Thom in his arms next to Alanna. She hugs her back tightly, the slightest of tears skating down her cheeks as she breathes in Maude’s familiar smell.
“Thank you.” She whispers, and Maude squeezes her gently before letting her go. She gives George’s cheek a brief kiss before turning her attention to the baby in his arms.
“Well aren’t you a fine fellow.” She smiles, scooping Thom out of George’s arms, who only smiles wryly as Maude bounces him in her arms, cooing down at him.
“Welcome to Pirates’ Swoop, Maude. Thank you for coming, and earlier than we thought.” George says, and Maude shakes her head at him.
“One babe is easier to look after than Lady Rispah and Coram’s brood. This little lad looks like he’ll be a quiet little babe if he’s anything like his mama, it was only when she was toddling around that she was getting up to mischief and that won’t be for a bit more, and there’s not much I wouldn’t do for your lass.” Maude says, and Alanna smiles back at her. It has been only three days since Thom was born and her whole world shifted, but with Maude’s arrival it feels like she is gaining ground under her feet again. Eleni and Myles walk out of the main doors of the castle towards their group in the courtyard, and Maude heads towards them. She can already hear the gushing over Thom and what a fine little babe he is, and George takes her arm in his as they walk. She rests against him with a sigh, and ponders if they would still think him such a fine babe if they were attending his squalls throughout the night and his painful suckling and accompanying wails at any time.
-
“Eleni?” Alanna calls, and her mother-in-law looks up from the basin, steam from the pots behind her wreathing her face. “His diaper. It’s a different colour.” Eleni walks over from the bath water, wiggling her finger at Thom, who reaches in vain to grab at it, and looks at the fouled diaper Alanna holds, studying it.
“It’s normal.” She pronounces, folding the diaper up again. Alanna raises her eyebrows.
“Normal?” She asks incredulously.
“It changes. Your milk. It becomes more so that the baby can get all it needs from it. More filling. And so it changes their messes, too. Have you not noticed a change in your milk? Thicker?”
“It’s been more painful, but I don’t know if it’s thicker. He’s just seemed to need to feed more, like he’s not getting enough.”
“What sort of pain have you been feeling?” Eleni questions, looking slightly worried.
“Should I not have been feeling pain?” Alanna replies.
“Not very much. If he suckles a bit too much or suckles without latching on proper, you would get pain. And it’s with your milk coming, isn’t it?” At Alanna’s nod, she continues. “Your milk should come, and then another wave should come. If he needs to feed more, he might not be getting that whole second wave, or the second wave’s not coming. I’ll see what Maude thinks.”
“And the pain?”
“I’m not sure.” Eleni sighs. “We’ll talk with Maude, and we’ll see if we can make something that’ll help you be more calm and relax a bit more, that sometimes helps.” She rests a hand on Alanna’s shoulder, and the familiar feeling of a cooling, soothing magic sweeps through her body. “It’s not your fault, so don’t even think it. We wouldn’t be mothers if we knew what was coming everytime with every babe. It’s a journey.” Eleni wraps her in a hug, wiping away the tear that slips down Alanna’s cheek, and turns her attention to a whimpering Thom in his blankets, grabbing him a clean diaper from the pile.
-
She holds Thom firmly and supportively in her arms, as he nurses. The chair rocks slightly as she shifts, and she takes the moment to relax, Thom suckling contentedly and the dressing room they have been using as a nursery quiet. Thom gives a small moan as he stops suckling, and she pats his hair reassuringly.
“There, there.” She murmurs. “There, there.” She resists temptation to tap her feet impatiently for the second wave of milk to come, and reminds herself to be calm and patient and relaxed, even if Thom‘s suckling attempts are painful and he is whimpering from still being hungry. She winces as he begins to suckle in earnest again, pain tingling through her breast, and waits for him to stop fidgeting before letting the chair rock a little again. She gently unlatches him and swaps his position once he has settled, giving a small yelp as he kicks and flails around in the process. He turns his head away and she heaves a sigh, fidgeting and coaxing him to suckle again, but his flailing returns anew and after a series of painful kicks towards her ribcage, and more fidgeting, she gives up.
-
“Such sights the Princes never did see/And they honour the Beggar to this very day.”
Alanna sings, her voice soft, as she bounces Thom gently in her arms. He continues to wail as she enters the next verse, and if she was not so tired she would admire his ability to harmonise with her off key notes. His wailing progresses to face-contorting sobs, and she sits back down in the rocking chair, cradling him against her.
“Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s okay, Thom. It’s okay. Mama’s here. Mama’s here. Shhhh.”
She repeats it like a prayer, her voice going quieter and quieter, until Thom’s wailing pauses. She stands and rests him in his crib, tucking his blankets around him, and giving him a kiss on the forehead, blowing the candle out as she walks to the door. She pulls back the covers on George’s side of the bed and lies down, resting her head on the pillow. It’s the first time he has had to go away since Thom has been born, and she has not realised how much she has been relying on him until now, when she lies alone in their bed. She fiddles the emberstone between her fingers, toying with it and yawns, drifting off to sleep when she hears a sob start.
“Thom, not again.” She walks into the room, a pale light appearing between her fingers and lighting the candle, too tired and weak to maintain her Gift as a light for however long it took Thom to go to sleep. She looks down at him and he sobs up at her, her arms already reaching in to pick him up.
“Please stop. Please stop, Thom.” She rocks him in her arms, to no avail, runs her Gift through him to see there is nothing wrong, walks around the room with him and he still wails.
“You don’t want to feed. You don’t want your nappy changed. You’re not by yourself while we’re off having fun, and you’ve got me giving you attention. You won’t sleep, and I’ve tried everything. If your Da was here.” She stops, sniffs. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m sorry, Thom. Mama’s sorry.”
She carries him into the bedroom, placing him on the pillows and settling herself, before resting him against her chest. His sobs have slowed again to whimpers, and she runs her hand along his back soothingly, waiting until they are both too worn out to do anything but sleep.
-
George wakes up early, automatically putting his arm over his wife and snuggling closer to her side of the bed, only to discover that her side of the bed is cold and empty. He glances around the room and sees the flicker of low candlelight behind the screen in the dressing room that has become the nursery, and with a small sigh kicks off the covers and tugs a blanket from the end of the bed. His footsteps are quiet against the cold of the stone floor and he shivers a little, walking around the screen to see what he expected. Alanna sleeps in the rocking chair, her dressing gown wrapped around her and Thom cradled in her arms against her chest. Both his wife and his son sleep soundly for once, and he hesitates, the blanket loose in his hands and guilt nagging at him. The instinct to cover them up warmly shoots through him, as does the knowledge that his wife did not wake him up nor did the crying of his son, and he cannot remember the last time Alanna slept the night not in the rocking chair at some stage. It is the tear stains on her cheeks and her red eyes that decide for him, and he eases Thom out of her arms and into his cot, careful not to wake him. He rests him gently on the blanket, watching as his son snuggles into the warmth, and kisses his forehead softly. He turns back to his wife and sighs. She looks drained, and the helpless feeling swamps him again.
“My love, you can’t go on like this.” He says softly, scooping her out of the chair. She nestles against him, still asleep, and he blows the candle out, noticing the wax pooled. He carries her back to their bed and settles her in, tucking blankets around her and pecking her cheek before he takes his clothes from the chair and dresses. He stops at the door, heading for his office to do some work before breakfast and looks back. Alanna is curled towards where he would be, and he feels a wave of guilt upon seeing how lost and alone she looks, as well as the weightlessness he felt when she was in his arms. His reports can wait, and he pulls off his shoes and climbs back into bed, snuggling his wife into his arms.
-
“Lass, maybe we should try a wet nurse.” They eat breakfast at the dining table, and her fingers twist around her spoon.
“No.” She says firmly. George sighs, crunching into an apple.
“You’re in pain.”
“Don’t tell me how I’m feeling.” She snaps, blowing on her spoon.
“I’m not telling you how you’re feeling, I’m tellin’ you what I see. There’s nothing shameful about”
“I don’t need help!” She cries, splashing porridge on the table. They stare at each other, and Alanna sinks her head into her hands. “I don’t need help.” Her voice is firm, and he pushes his chair back from the table, watching as her face sinks further into her hands. She flinches when he rests a hand on her shoulder, and he kneels and gathers her into his arms.
“This is the one thing I can do for him. It’s the only thing Thom needs me for, that he wants me for. This is the only thing he’ll accept me on, that I’m not some second choice.”
“You’re his mother, Alanna. Nothing’s going to change that. He’s always going to love you, no matter what.”
“There’s other things than a wet nurse. Cow’s milk, goat’s milk, with a spoon or in a waterskin. Maude mentioned them. They should be enough to keep him healthy, and I will still feed him.”
“We’ll start him with it today, then.” She starts, glaring at him and ready to protest, and he raises an eyebrow. “You can give him a feed now, and then we’ll chat with Maude and the cook and have some fun seeing what he likes best.” She pulls away from him, sitting back in her chair and scooping porridge onto her spoon.
“I don’t like seeing you like this. You may not like it, but Alanna, you can’t do everything, no matter how hard you try or how much you want to. Sometimes you need a bit of help to make things easier in the long run. That’s all we’re doing.” He says quietly, and she turns back to him.
“I know I can’t do everything. This was just the one thing I could. My one bonding moment.” She sighs, and twines their fingers together, an offering of peace.
-
Maude leaves the nursery once she arrives, and she smiles around the big room. Thom has been settled in it for only a few days, and after a month of sharing their dressing room, the room is far more suited to a baby. It is cheerfully decorated, with hangings adorning the walls and bright curtains across the windows, and she has already noticed that there is more than enough comfortable room for at least another crib, and wonders. She knows still that George would like another, and seeing how happy Thom has made him, made both of them, really, when she takes away the sleepless nights and the nursing pain and the general disruption a baby caused to their routine, she cannot hide the fact that Thom has made her life brighter, day by day. She wanders over to his crib, and smiles again to see that he is awake. He gives her a coo and flails his arms a little, and she picks him out of the crib, bouncing him a little in her arms.
“And how are you today, Thom?” She kisses his head, ruffling the hair so like her own. “You were such a good boy to sleep for so long last night! Yes, you were!” She laid him down on the blankets on the floor, untangling his little fingers from tugging on her hair. “Don’t grab that. Look, here’s your bear. Hang on to that instead, okay? And then we’ll check your diaper and see if you need changing before we go see Grandpapa and Grandmama come again and Uncle Coram and Aunt Rispah arrive and then we’ll see how spoilt you get, won’t we?” She unwraps the blankets covering him as he stares up at her, and the familiar scent causes her to cringe her nose. “You do need a diaper changing, don’t you?” Thom flails his arms in reply, and she grins, reaching out to tickle him. He squirms happily in his blankets and she laughs, a delighted smile on her face. She reaches out to tickle him again, and he kicks his legs, his face wrinkling. She pulls her hand away, and Thom looks up at her, eyes wide and mouth contorted in what could only be described as a smile. Alanna blinks down at him, a smile breaking slowly over her face as the smile on Thom’s face holds, and she picks him up, cradling him in her arms.
“Is that a smile? Did you just give Mama a smile?” He flails a little against her, and she smiles, pressing a kiss on his forehead.
“Let’s go get you changed, and then we’ll go tell Da. He’s going to be sad he missed you smiling, but we’ll get you to do it again, won’t we?”