Chapter 17 Gwen #3
Then he was gone. It was like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Leigh arrived a short time later with Belle strapped to her chest. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, and Gwen felt simultaneously guilty and grateful for the time and energy Leigh had been giving to Gwen.
They barely knew each other, really, and yet Leigh felt like someone Gwen loved—or needed. Was there a difference between the two?
“Oh my god, you poor thing,” Leigh said, hurrying to Gwen’s bedside.
Gwen started crying, happy tears this time, in response to Leigh’s care and empathy. That was what she hadn’t felt from Jeff—empathy.
“How are you feeling?” Leigh asked.
“Better physically. Mentally, I’m a wreck. I can’t feed June. They gave her formula,” Gwen said.
Leigh looked appropriately horrified.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“I can’t feed from the right boob. I’m afraid to feed her when I’m on these antibiotics. I don’t know if my supply has totally tanked.”
The tears were coming faster now, sliding down her cheeks in two rivers.
“Okay, deep breaths,” Leigh said.
Leigh took her own long inhale, demonstrating, then exhaled.
Gwen did her best to follow along.
Just then, a nurse came in to change out the IV bag. She either didn’t notice that Gwen had been crying or didn’t care.
“Hi there,” she said with a robotic smile.
She unhooked the bag that was currently on the hook and replaced it with another.
“You’re looking better,” the nurse said.
Gwen didn’t remember seeing this nurse before, but most of the previous hours were lost to her.
“Is the doctor coming soon?” Gwen asked.
She needed to see the doctor. She needed to ask questions, find out when she could get out of here, when her life could go back to normal.
So many days she had agonized about the long hours home alone with June, doing nothing but breastfeeding and tummy time and napping (well, June napped, only in the swing, while Gwen used the “free time” to do chores or shower).
She would give anything for those days now, anything to just return to the rhythm that had previously felt so dull and soul crushing.
“Doctor should be doing rounds soon,” the nurse said with another robotic smile before turning to head out.
“Thanks,” Gwen managed.
“Can we ask you a question?” Leigh said.
The nurse turned around and made a show of exhaling.
“Sure,” she said.
“Women breastfeed after this, right?” Leigh asked.
The nurse took a moment to respond, and Gwen could imagine the wheels turning in her brain. Did she even remember why Gwen was there? The nurse’s eyes landed on June, and she seemed to suddenly understand.
“Oh, you’ll have to ask the doctor,” she said. “But I’m not sure it’ll be feasible to breastfeed after this.”
Gwen stared at her name badge—Mari. She hated Mari and her use of the word feasible. Mari was young. Mari probably did not have children. Mari didn’t understand. She wanted to punch Mari.
“But women do, right?” Leigh asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” she said, looking at the watch on her wrist, alerting them to her busy schedule. “But from what I’ve seen, it’s usually a formula situation after something like this.”
A formula situation.
Leigh rolled her eyes aggressively, and Gwen’s heart swelled in appreciation for her friend’s annoyance.
“Okay, we’ll ask the doctor,” Leigh said.
Gwen was so thankful for this “we,” for the way Leigh made the two of them a team, figuring out this situation together.
When the nurse had barely left the room, Leigh said, at louder-than-normal volume, “Well, she was a bitch.”
“Leigh!” Gwen said. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“What? She was. So uncaring. ‘First, do no harm.’ Isn’t that in their oath? Her very presence did me harm.”
Gwen kept laughing, pleasantly surprised at her ability to do so.
“‘Formula situation,’” Leigh muttered. “What a cunt.”
“Leigh!”
Leigh shrugged. “Sorry not sorry.”
The word continued to roll around inside Gwen’s brain—cunt, cunt, cunt. She was in near hysterics, while Leigh sat with her arms crossed.
“Listen, this is bullshit,” Leigh said. “You are going to feed your baby how you want to feed your baby. End of story.”
There was something seductive about Leigh’s resolve, though Gwen wasn’t sure how realistic it was.
She didn’t have the energy to google herself down rabbit holes of information about recovery from severe mastitis.
She was afraid of the message boards full of bad news, all the women before her who had had to accept their formula fates.
“Jeff’s gonna bring my pump. I’ll see what my left boob has to offer. Pump and dump while I’m on the antibiotics.”
Leigh nodded. Unlike Jeff, she was following along with the plan easily.
“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.
“She would use the damn formula and not tell anyone about it,” Leigh said.
“You think?”
“I mean, what’s the alternative? Letting her baby, like, die?”
“That makes me feel better. It’s so silly, but it does.”
“You said her name, you know. Do you remember?” Leigh asked.
“What? When?”
“When I came to take you to the hospital. You were in and out. It was terrifying, honestly. I put June in the car and came to get you, and you called me Angeni Luna.”
Gwen didn’t remember that, but she remembered the vision of the woman coming toward her.
“You were wearing white?” Gwen said.
“Yeah, this tunic thing. Why?”
“I thought you were an angel,” Gwen said. “I was so out of it.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Leigh said.
“I’m so sorry it was terrifying.”
“Oh, stop. I’m quite sure it was more terrifying for you,” Leigh said. “And look, just use the formula for now. You’ll get back to breastfeeding. This will all be a blip on the radar.”
Gwen started crying more.
“Oh, honey. It’s okay. I promise it’ll be okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to come over every day with June so we can hang out and get you through this rough patch. Okay?”
Gwen nodded.
“Thank you,” she managed to say in the midst of her tears.
Leigh came to her bedside, took her hand, squeezed it. She stared into Gwen’s teary eyes with such meaningful compassion that Gwen couldn’t stand it, flicked her eyes downward.
“We should probably get going. Have to get home and do dinner,” Leigh said.
“Okay, yeah. Thank you again,” Gwen said, resuming eye contact.
“I know we’ve only been friends for a short time, but I really care for you,” Leigh said.
Now Leigh’s eyes welled up with tears. Gwen had to look away again. She couldn’t handle such a strong dose of intimacy like this.
“You’re a godsend,” Gwen said.
Leigh squeezed her hand again. “Okay, sweetie. Rest well. Feel better. If they don’t let you out soon, I’ll bust you out.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I feel like we have a very Thelma-and-Louise vibe, don’t you?”
Gwen laughed. “Minus the driving off the cliff at the end.”
“Right, minus that.”
Leigh blew her a kiss and then left the room. Gwen felt her absence immediately and acutely. Before she had a chance to analyze the depth of this unexpected ache, Jeff appeared, a brown take-out bag in one hand.
“How’s the patient?” he asked.
“I’m good.”
“Sorry it took so long. Lupe’s was packed. Did Leigh stop by?”
“She did.”
Gwen didn’t want to bother trying to recount how much the visit meant to her. Jeff wouldn’t get it, and maybe that was fine. Leigh got it.
“She seems like a good friend,” he said.
He took out Gwen’s burrito, placed it on the tray, and swiveled the tray in front of Gwen. She was suddenly starving and knew she would enjoy every bite.
“She is,” Gwen said. “She really is.”