by Janet Huderski

Created on: October 26, 2009   Last Updated: March 29, 2010

After Birth

1

     Lyn watched listlessly as unending streams of water ran in channels down the brightly-lit plazscreen window. The day before, the ever smiling head nurse had asked her, “Why do you keep that window tuned to rainstorms instead of enjoying some sunshine, mother?”

    “I don’t know,” she’d answered thoughtfully, and she really wasn’t sure even now what made her prefer the dreary landscape. “It’s just how I feel.” The rather large woman had shaken her head, but with her professional nurse’s smile intact had left the gloomy view unchanged.

     “Hey!” Lyn glanced toward the voice. A new girl with flushed cheeks and a brightly printed scarf holding back black curls interrupted her reverie. “Why the rain, Mom? You should be happy!” she crowed, handing Lyn’s baby over to be nursed. “Look at this pretty sweetheart!”

     And as she took the baby in her arms, Lyn was happy. Trista was everything she could have dreamed of and more. Sweet, soft baby skin felt like velvet against her bare chest as the little one nestled in close, grabbing greedily with soft gums and lips at the offered nipple. The top of her head was covered with a fine golden fluff of silk. So resolute on living, Lyn thought, feeling the baby’s demanding pull at her breast. Suddenly Trista opened dark, liquid brown eyes and stared intently up at her, and Lyn felt a thrill, a rush of love, and then a stab of dismay. How long had Trista’s eyes been open? She bent closer, kissing the tiny forehead, and cooed, “Little Trista, Mommy loves you.” The dark eyes crinkled with a baby smile, and Lyn smiled back. She brushed Tris’ dimpled cheek with her lips and her anger subsided for the moment. But in much too short a time the lively eyes became unfocussed, and the eyelids fluttered and closed in sleepy contentment, all hunger abated. Lyn gently touched her Trista’s fine hair with hesitant fingertips and possessively drew her closer. The baby fussed, and the nursing aid, seeing that the feeding was finished, bent to take her away.

     “Why can’t I hold her while she sleeps?” Lyn asked pleadingly, loath to give up the warm, soft bundle of life buried contentedly in her arms, hoping this new girl might have a new answer.

     

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