The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1097 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Tom was the first to come down, and asked why we were up so early, so I told him. He nodded as if it were an everyday occurrence that a previous male was breastfeeding. When I asked him if he didn’t think it was a little unusual, he simply shrugged and told me that the usual was the rare event these days, especially since I’d lived with him.

Stella had gone back upstairs as Tom and I spoke, and I asked him if he was growing tired of my living with him. He suddenly looked at me and said, “Hen, if ye hadnae come tae stay, I’d hae lang ago drank mesel’ tae ma grave.”

“I sometimes wonder if we’re all a bit much for you to cope with, the noise and the hustle and bustle.”

“Ye’re a’ fine, I like it like that. I’ll be a lang time deid, it’ll be quiet enough then.” He placed his hand over mine and squeezed gently. “Ye mean thae world tae me, ye an’ a’ yer bairns. Ye’re ma family, ye ken.”

“I know, Daddy, I just don’t want you to think I take you for granted.”

“Jest a wee bittee, but I like that because that’s hoo families ought t’be.”

“I suppose so, what would you like for dinner tonight?”

“Is chicken curry oot o’ the question?”

I shook my head, “I’ll do you a chicken curry if that’s what you fancy.”

“Aye, weel jest mind ye put some curry in it this time, ye fergot last.”

I spluttered instead of answering him and he chuckled. I kissed him on his cheek–an unusually unshaven one, before I went to see where my tribe was, especially Julie, who had to go to work.

I woke Julie and took a look at the others. They were all asleep. Essentially, they were all capable of making themselves a small amount of breakfast cereal and even making some toast in the toaster. They could all also wash themselves or help each other to wash and dress in my absence. I was firm believer in making children independent for reasons of their own self esteem, and also to save my time and energy for more important things. I suppose the influence of my mother coming through, which had helped me more than a little. As I came downstairs I did wonder what she’d think of my brood–probably run off in horror. Nah–she’d love ‘em.

While Julie breakfasted, I quickly washed and dressed, replacing the tissue in my bra. I really needed to get some nursing ones and also some proper pads. Oh boy, what fun.

An hour later I was in Mothercare, looking at nursing bras and tried one or two on, trying not to leak on them–I hadn’t thought about that element of breast feeding, ruining all my clothes. I also bought some wipes, some cream and took a leaflet on it. On Monday, I thought I’d better give my GP a call and get some advice.

I bought four bras and a big box of pads. The size which seemed to fit was–to my horror–a D cup. I felt like I had a set of bumpers on the front of my chest, which every time I moved dripped. Was this a blessing or a divine joke? Yeah, Shekie old girl, I have so much female essence in me, my cup runneth over–a D cup to be precise. I chuckled to myself as I left the shop convinced the woman I walked past thought I was barmy.

I bought a couple of things for our new arrival and an extra pack of terry towel nappies, the Gold Seal ones, or best on the market. Then I grabbed a couple of cheap tops just in case the milk did ruin my clothes. My breasts felt heavy and tender as I bought groceries and the tops in the supermarket. I had enough for three or four meals, including some chopped turkey for Tom’s curry, plus curry powder, chilli powder and some turmeric.

I would have a jacket potato for my meal, the others could have a mild curry, but Tom’s I would spice up a bit because I knew he’d enjoy it. Quite how much to use, I wasn’t sure, I’d have to see as I went along.

I also got them poppadoms and loads of basmati rice, plus some chutney and plain yoghurt. I seemed to spend my whole life shopping or doing housework–maybe I did need to get some help, even if I wasn’t planning on doing much paid work for a few months. I suppose the universe, or Shekhinah or whatever had made sure the baby was my priority–at least that was what I told myself.

In the supermarket pharmacy, I enquired about a breast pump and they had one, so I bought it, at least I wouldn’t be tied to little Cat all the time. Mind you the way my bra was feeling, I began to wish she was with me so she could have relieved the pressure. I began to get an appreciation of how domestic dairy cows must feel when it gets close to milking time.

I dashed home and delegated the unloading of the shopping to Trish and Billie, who had the misfortune to be standing about doing nothing. I ran upstairs, changed into a proper nursing bra, grabbed a handful of pads and dashed down again.

Little topsy was stirring and I picked her out and spoke to her. Her face lit up, and she was nuzzling against me trying to find my breast. I sat down, pulled up my top and opened the cup of the bra and she was on my nipple like a clamp. She sucked so hard it hurt and I stroked her face telling her to take it easy.

“Where do these go, Mu–wowee.” Trish came up to me and gasped as she saw my breast in the baby’s mouth. She plonked the shopping down on the kitchen table and stood and stared, her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

Billie came in and followed suit. They watched in awed silence, gasping when I switched breasts and popped the baby on t’other one. Eventually, Trish asked the obvious, “Will I be able to do that one day?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, until this morning, I didn’t think I could.”

“How did it happen?” asked Billie.

“I don’t know, spontaneous emission?”

I was aware of a noise behind me and footsteps. “Hi, Babes, I’m ho–” Simon stood behind the two girls his eyes out on stalks.

“Don’t I get a kiss then?” I pouted at my husband.

He pointed at me still feeding the baby, and with astonishment in his whole expression, seemed lost for words.

“Spontaneymus missiles,” suggested Trish to her father’s surprise which baffled him even more.

“I think she might mean, spontaneous emission,” I suggested.

“I think I prefer her phrasing, and you can point them at me any time you like.” Simon said with a strange expression of future bliss in his eyes, “Do you do deliveries?”