56. Marley
56
MARLEY
B eau flops down on the couch next to me, having just set Arlo down in the bassinet beside us. Ariel is latched onto my breast, suckling happily. This has been exhausting, but we’re doing it. We are successfully being parents. They had their two week check-up this morning, and are both gaining weight as they should be.
My mom is asleep in the guest bedroom down the hall, having spent last night here, taking a shift so Beau and I could sleep for longer than two hours at a time. Everyone has been so incredibly helpful, but also giving us our space when we need it. Ariel slowly falls asleep, her mouth falling off my nipple.
I adjust her, and cover my breast with my nursing bra. Beau takes her from my arms, resting her on his shoulder to pat her back and burp her.
A few pats and a large belch later, she’s sound asleep, and Beau places her in the second bassinet next to me. I lean back onto the couch, giving myself a minute to breathe before I do my evening pumping session. One of my breasts hurts and I’m worried I might be getting mastitis. It’s achy and hot, and the thought of anyone touching it right now hurts more than anything. When I pumped earlier, almost nothing came out, making me think there’s a clogged duct. Beau scoots in close, pulling me against him. I let myself sink into his embrace, needing his touch.
“I can’t believe asking you to dance at a wedding would bring us here,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to the top of my head.
“Pretty sure it was you chasing after me that changed the path of our lives, but yeah. You’re right. It’s pretty crazy.”
There’s a soft knock on the front door, my dad’s voice softly calling as he enters the house. “Hey Dad,” I greet him as he walks up the stairs.
“How ya doing, kids?” he asks. He glances at Beau and me, snuggled up on the couch, and the babies in their bassinets beside us. He smiles softly, a knowing affection in his gaze.
“Good,” I say through a yawn. “Mom is sleeping in the guest room.”
Dad nods. “I’ll let her sleep for a bit. Do you guys need anything?”
I shake my head. “Not right now.”
“Why don’t you two shower and take a short nap while I stay here with the twins? I’ll get your mom if I need anything.”
I look up at Beau, waiting for his agreement. He nods eagerly. “You’re sure, Gabriel?”
“Positive. I need some time with my grand-babies, anyway.”
Beau shifts before standing, offering me a hand to help me stand as well. The soreness between my legs has eased, but it’s still present.
I’m nowhere near being cleared for sex, or even wanting or craving it, but I miss the intimacy between Beau and me. Sure, we snuggle and he shows me love in other ways, but I miss that connection with him.
Beau leads us down the hallway after I give my dad a brief rundown on when the babies will need to eat next, and what has been working best to soothe them lately. “I don’t dare sit down,” I tell Beau. “If I do, there’s no chance you’ll get me up.”
He chuckles. “I was thinking we could shower together. No funny business of course, but I need some closeness.”
“Can it be a hot shower?” I ask. “My boob hurts. I think it’s getting mastitis. Dr. Ness said heat and warm compresses could work so it doesn’t get too bad.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Beau asks, stepping closer to me.
I shrug. “It wasn’t too bad until this last feed. I want to try and loosen it up before I try to pump the clog out.”
Beau hums to himself, then takes my hand, leading me into the bathroom. He starts the shower, letting it warm up as he helps me undress. I’m more than capable of doing it myself, but it feels good to have him assist me. He lifts my shirt off me, leaving me in only my nursing bra and granny panties. My nursing bra is scattered with milk stains, and I still have on disposable underwear, as I’m still bleeding off and on.
Beau gazes down my body like it’s a rare gem. He doesn’t gawk at my many stretch marks, or the way my stomach is still deflating after carrying twins. He stares at me like I’m a gift. Like I’m something special, meant for him, and only him.
He shrugs off his clothes, leaving him naked before me. I take off my bra, and slide down the underwear, trying to discreetly hide the blood in the center. Beau doesn’t seem to care, though. He just tosses the disposable underwear into the garbage. Holding out his hand, I take it, and he helps me step into the steaming shower. The water beats down on my aching body, the mental and physical tolls of postpartum life weighing me down. For the first time since the twins were born, I feel like I can breathe.
Beau is the only person I’ve let see, but my anxiety has ramped up. Even when the babies are sleeping, I’m barely sleeping. I’m watching them non-stop, worried that Ariel will stop breathing, or that they missed something in the hospital. What if her lungs aren’t strong enough, and they give out?
When Beau steps in behind me, he wraps his arms around my chest, letting me sink into his embrace. I haven’t had time to really process anything, the feelings that I have, at least until my appointment today. Dr. Ness upped my medication, and gave me something to help when I start to spiral.
Tears stream down my cheeks, blending in with the water cascading down my body as I let myself feel it all. The exhaustion, the anxiety, the constant fear that Ariel will stop breathing. Being a new mom is weighing on me.
My dad showing up and offering to watch them means the world, but yet, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep still, not having my eyes on them.
It’s been hard, trying to verbalize the things in my head, but Beau listens to each fear, and helps me rationalize them. I broke down the first night we got home, away from the constant monitoring of the nurses, and he made me tell him every thought I was having. He was ready to drive us right back to the birth center, scared I was having some sort of reaction, especially when I wouldn’t give Ariel to him. I couldn’t put her down. I made him call the nurses, just to be sure she was really okay. They probably thought I was crazy, but they were sweet about it.
“I’m sorry, I’m such a mess,” I cry, letting my head fall back onto his chest. Beau repositions us, his body directly under the spray now so it’s no longer hitting me directly in the face.
“Shhh.” He tilts his head so he can whisper in my ear, “I’ve got you, remember? I’m here to catch you when you fall. I’ll be the one to watch you get back on your own two feet when you feel strong enough.”
I nod, words failing me. I know he has me, but I’m so scared that I’ll end up in that dark place again. I want the medication to work right away, even though I know it won’t. I wish that I wasn’t like this, that I didn’t have to take medication just to feel like a normal human, but Dr. Ness told me that I am normal, that these feelings are normal, especially with how out of sync my hormones are.
I let the warm water soothe my body and mind while Beau holds me. When the water starts to run cold, I let my arms drop, and Beau steps back. My right breast throbs while my left leaks milk like a faucet.
I grab a towel, and work on drying my body. Beau holds open my cotton robe when I’m dry enough, and I slide my arms in. When Beau is dried off and has a fresh pair of boxers on, I ask, “Are you willing to grab my pump and everything from the living room? I don’t really want my dad to see this.” I gesture down to my left breast, already creating a damp spot on my robe.
Beau nods. “For sure.” He leans down, kissing my cheek. “Go sit in bed, I’ll be back in a minute. Want something to eat?”
“Please,” I say, not caring what he brings me, but knowing I should eat something. “And my water bottle, too!”
He offers me a thumbs up on his way out the door.
I climb into our bed, adjusting my pillows so I can sit comfortably. The room feels so empty without my babies in it, and I stop myself from changing my mind and going out into the living room anyway. It’s okay to need a break. I love them, and just because I’m taking a little bit of time to myself doesn’t mean I’m not a good mom.
Beau walks back in moments later with what we call my milking cart. It’s a rolling cart with my pump on the second shelf, with extra tubing, bottles, nipple cream, and anything else you might need. The top shelf is usually where I put my phone, water, and snack, so it’s easily within reach.
My nipples hurt just thinking about what's to come. I’m still getting used to the whole breastfeeding thing and working on getting my supply up. We’ve supplemented a few times with formula and I don’t mind. All that matters is that they are fed.
Beau hands me the already connected pump. I connect my left breast first, knowing that at least that side won’t be painful. I adjust my right breast, getting the nipple in the flange correctly, and then nod at Beau to flick the power on.
The suction starts immediately along with the burning pain in my right breast. I hiss, trying to fight through it. Beau sits down next to me, running his palm up and down my legs, the ones that I haven’t even considered shaving in the last two weeks. Not that it matters, he’s seen every inch of me at this point, and not in a sexy way. I mean, my boobs are hanging out, being tugged within an inch of their life right now, and he’s cuddled up next to me without a care in the world.
After fifteen minutes, my left side is drained, and I have five ounces to show for. My right side however, has barely an ounce, and it hurts like a bitch. Beau’s been scrolling on his phone most of the time, and my mind has been focused on not crying from pain.
“Did it work?” he asks.
I shake my head, wanting to cry in defeat.
“Hmm.” he ponders. His brows crease downward. “I found a couple things online while you were pumping, can we try them?”
“You… that’s what you were doing?” I ask, my voice full of surprise.
“Yeah? Is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” I reply. “I just thought you were on Facebook or something like that.”
“No,” he says with a small laugh. “I could tell how uncomfortable you were. Do you have one of those suction cup thingies?” He gestures at his chest, like I’m supposed to know what he’s talking about.
“Um, no? What is that?”
“You didn’t get one at the baby shower?”
“Beau, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He pulls his phone from his shorts pocket, taps on his screen a few times, and turns the phone to show me. It’s a manual silicone breast pump, but instead of the pump, it’s just natural suction. “I read that these can be really helpful, you can put hot water and epsom salt in it and suction it on there. It’s supposed to help loosen it up.”
“I don’t think I have one.”
“We could try another way, then. You have those hot packs, right?”
“Right…” I don’t quite know what else to try, besides pumping again.
“Why don't you put the hot packs on your breast, and then I can kind of try to massage and suck it out,” Beau says with complete certainty.
“Suck it out?” I squeak. “You want to suck it? ”
“ That’s what he said, ” he jokes.
I narrow my eyes, glowering at him. “Not the time, Beau.”
He chuckles. “Sorry, but really. I read that it can help, and a lot of the online forums say that the pumps don’t have strong enough suction.”
“But… what if you taste it?”
“Then, I taste it?” He shrugs. “I’ve heard it’s sweet.”
“I can’t believe you’re offering to do this.”
“You’re in pain, love. I just want to help. Please?” He gives me his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.
“Fine, but we won't speak of this, ever again.”
He rolls his eyes. “Sure, Mar.”
He grabs the hot pack, reading the directions before popping the tabs. He wraps it in a cloth and passes it over to me. I uncover my breast, resting the warmth on it. It helps to relieve some of the ache immediately. Beau comes over to my side of the bed. “Where do you want me?”
Embarrassment washes through my body. I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but this feels… almost taboo. I scoot more toward the middle of the bed, so Beau has space on my right side to kneel.
He does so quickly, getting close to me and leaning down to kiss me. “If it’s too much, just let me know, but Marley, I want to do this. I want to help you.”
I nod, kissing him back with everything I have. How did I get lucky enough to have him? How is he so willing and open?
He adjusts his body so he’s flush with my swollen nipple, opening his mouth and closing his lips around it. I close my eyes, leaning back into the headboard. It takes him a few tries to get used to it, but then he’s got a good latch, and is suckling at my breast, alternating between hard pulls, and short staccato ones. He’s trying to help get the clot loose and out. I look down at him, and he’s focused so intently, brows furrowed and grooves lining his forehead. His still wet hair is hanging across my lap, dampening my robe.
This goes on for a few minutes, and then it’s like a dam bursts. Pain flares through my nipple, and my breasts let down the milk, and Beau nearly chokes at the sudden rush of milk into his mouth. He lets my nipple free, swallowing a few times before his eyes widen.
“I think I got it,” he says, beaming with pride.
I laugh. “Yeah, you definitely did.” I gesture down to where my nipple is steadily leaking milk.
“I kinda wanna do it again,” he says, face flushing red. “It tasted good once I got a bit of it. It was also kind of relaxing.”
“It was?”
“Yeah. I mean, are you really surprised? I’ve always loved your tits.”
He’s got a point.
The ache now relieved in my breast, I know I’ll probably have to pump this side so I don’t get clogged again. I reach out for my pump, ready to hook back up, but Beau reaches out, stopping me. “Can I do it one more time? Just a little?”
“You really want to?”
“Obviously.” He doesn’t hesitate to lean back down. He does give me a moment to decline, or tell him no, but when I don’t he latches back on to my breast, suckling the dripping milk. I give him a minute or so, but then I’m pushing his head off.
“I need to pump now.” I’m not about to tell him how sad I am to have him stop, because I’m loving the intimacy of it, how it feels different than when the babies do it, more sensual, like I have more ownership of my body, but I also need to collect as much as I can for them.
“Fine, but I want to do that again sometime. Okay?” he nearly pouts.
“Okay,” I say, kissing him. I can just barely taste the sweetness he spoke of, and I love how much he loved it.