Rory had read every book and watched every video on Youtube on how to tandem feed two babies. She knew the double clutch, the reclining criss cross, the cradle cross and the cradle clutch - but they were of no use to her. The gap between how she thought things would go and how things had turned out to be was almost painful.
Rory sat in the nursery at three o'clock in the morning with Emma latched onto her left breast, having already finished with the right one. She ate hungrily, and had in the three months really started to remind Rory of Finny at that age. At a little over 11 pounds, it was almost like she'd never really been a preemie. She held her upper body up when placed on her stomach, she was an excellent kicker, she communicated with 'oh-s' and 'ah-s' and smiled widely at whomever was speaking to her. While Rory should've been happy about all of these things - each time she did feed her, the stretch of time filled her with guilt and more often than not she'd get emotional. The full blown sobs she managed to keep abay, but fighting her tears wasn't that uncommon. This was one of those nights.
One of the things she hadn't quite accounted for was how the inequality that had begun in the womb continued to this day. While Emma was an expert at latching and sucking, Leigh was not. Leigh had never really learned how to latch on properly nor to suck with enough force. And as Rory really only produced a little more than what Emma needed, there really wasn't much left for Leigh. She'd tried it all - giving Leigh plenty of chances to practice, herself drinking more liquids, taking supplements, eating more veggies but the stress she felt wasn't really helping.
She was interrupted from her thought by the sound of the Baby Brezza, that they had installed into the tiny kitchen they'd added the hallway closet - just a small sink, bottle warmer, mini dishwasher and fridge besides the Baby Brezza - so they'd have everything at hand during the nights. Rory looked up, not wanting to cry in front of the nanny, though it really didn't matter - they'd all seen it and would sympathize, saying it'd pass. She wasn't clinically depressed - they'd checked - but she wasn't good either.
"Here we go," Cathy entered the nursery and helped to position Leigh who had been on her shoulder the entire time, to the breast feeding pillow Rory had around her, helping her position the bottle of formula with a towel so Rory wouldn't have to keep holding it the entire time.
"Thanks," Rory replied. Instead of holding the bottle Rory wanted to hold Leigh, as much as she could, but that too she needed to do with caution not to distract her. Leigh rarely had much of an appetite, and it almost felt unfair to wake a sleeping baby at the same intervall to keep the schedule Emma seemed to have, but it was doctor's orders.
Each time she looked down at her girls like that, she felt the unfairness again and again. Sure, they were fraternal twins not identical - things could never be completely equal. What was the biggest issue, however, was that she felt like she wasn't bonding with Leigh enough, not the way she was bonding with Emma and every once in a while she would wonder if maybe she would love Leigh less because of it. Maybe Leigh would too, feeling her mental distance? But with Emma hating formula and loving breast, and Leigh being a lazy feeder, almost preferring the high-calorie anti-reflux formula to slowly drip into her mouth, Rory felt powerless. Sure - whenever she managed to express some spare milk Leigh would get it too, but she could see it in her that what she really wanted, what she needed, was the heavier stuff - it kept her full longer, less cranky. Leigh was still smaller, though she too had kept to her growth chart. She'd spent 10 days in NICU care and they'd all stayed at the hospital for that time, not wanting to separate the twins. She'd continued to wear the oxygen whiskers for another week after that and after their removal, they'd used the pulse oximeter for quite some time. Rory knew she couldn't do anything about it now - essentially it was just the eat-sleep-poop regime with the girls, and not counting the brief playtime the girls had - she did knowingly make it her mission to give Leigh some extra attention during those awake times. It was again doctor's recommendations to attempt trick her brain into forming stronger bonds with her. Still, it was hard. It felt like she was faking it.
Instead of one nanny they housed now two - Cathy having moved into the fourth floor study for the time being. It was not like Rory was using it right now. One of the nannies would help her out during the night and morning, the other during daytime while looking after Finny at the same time. She'd considered maybe Finny should try preschool but with fears for the babies health due to the flu season, they'd reconsidered. Besides, while Finny adored the babies, touching and kissing them with endearment, he was also clingy for attention.
One thing that did apply was that both babies were the calmest when they sensed the other one nearby and for the first few months they'd mostly slept in the light cot, with just a mesh between them, but as Emma was a lot stronger now, when she stirred the light cot just seemed too weak to handle her. The move to their cribs was not going very easily - both of them sleeping more anxiously, especially Leigh, and Cathy who'd taken it upon herself the night nanny position, unlike originally planned, slept some nights even in the same room because Rory's sleep was too easily distrubed by any peep coming from across the hall, fearing they might wake Finny. Maybe it hadn't been her brightest idea to insist having all her kids on the same floor after all?
Logan had stayed home for a month after the babies were born, but after all the time he'd stayed away during the summer already - he had known he needed to get back before things got out of hand. And he had truly dived in the deep end this time. His relaxed policies were no doubt attractive, but they had also created flaws and situations of people taking advantage of his trust. It was after he'd discovered one of the managers he'd hired himself trying to embezzle from the company that he had considered for the first time that maybe his father had been onto something with his reign of terror. Still - he didn't want to become him, he didn't want to be the one that had to keep an eye on everything like Mitchum had. And for this reason that night he too slept poorly, trying to think of what to say in the speech he was going to give to the department heads the next morning, his thinking interrupted by the small sounds coming from the nursery, making him feel guilty for not being in there, helping Rory out himself instead of Cathy.
He could see it in Rory, just like with Finny - she really wasn't a 'baby person', and it was hard to see her struggle. He did what he could, when he could - but nothing quite seemed to be enough. He kept hearing Rory's words in his head - "I don't want to turn out like you mother," and while he knew that was a loaded, hormonal, statement influenced by the history she had had with his mother - it did make him think. He didn't want to become his father either - but here he was - in bed, while the nanny helped his wife, and he would probably slip out to go to work before Rory woke. He knew Rory really needed to feel like herself again, but with everything going on at work, at this point, telling her she should go work for her supervisor, wasn't really an option. And this time, with her struggling to bond with Leigh, it really wasn't as easy as it had been with Finny - the guilt being so much stronger if she did decide to return to work at some point.
"Don't forget to suck that Bogmire up," Finn reminded Gigi, as he nodded to the left of the screen.
"I know, I'm getting to it," Gigi replied with some annoyment in her tone, continuing a multiplayer game of Luigi's Mansion they often played these days.
They usually hung out on the fourth floor TV room that doubled as Finny's playroom at the moment. They'd agreed to maintain their somewhat unconventional friendship on the condition to keep things out of any grey areas. Finn had set some ground rules for himself - he wouldn't invite her over alone or go into her apartment, somehow the physical space providing a good distinction. But they did text, almost daily, and he did like to talk to her, and he liked how she didn't judge him for doing trivial things like playing some stupid game if he felt like it. He hung out more and more and the Huntzberger house these days - for Finny's and Rory's sake too, not quite wanting to admit to himself that Gigi really was the draw for the frequency of his visits.
"I thought you were getting the Chamrea!" Gigi huffed at Finn, for not having sucked in another monster in the game.
"I was busy with the Polterkitty," he defended himself.
The game made a familiar sound announcing their defeat.
"That's it," Gigi exhaled, throwing the controller onto the couch next to her.
"Come on, one more," Finn pleaded, almost childishly. Around her it was easy to just be himself, not trying to please anybody. He was childish - and perhaps he should've been less proud of not having lost that carefree side of him, but he just didn't. After all with what he did for a living, if that could even be called that, demanded very little of him acting to his age. He acted as a type of consultant for his family's hotel chain that reached all across the globe, and mostly what he did was delegate. He knew people, places and whom to nudge to make things happen, and it was mostly his charming yet a little quirky, and no doubt somewhat exotic, as he liked to put it, character that kept opening doors for him. He chose his own work hours, and was free to hang out at odd afternoon hours with Rory, the kids and Gigi.
"I have homework," Gigi sighed, not too enthusiastically. Gigi was in school now, liking the fact that Trinity at least didn't have an obligatory uniform like her former school. Yet what their dress code of modest attire and the cooling autumn had done in part was altered her choice of clothes significantly - mostly settling for legging paired with either sweatshirts or long cardigans.
It was funny how when she didn't mention these things Finn almost forgot that she was in high school.
"Right," Finn sighed. "I can help if you want?" he offered, seeing how she clearly seemed to dread the particular work ahead. He could read her surprisingly well. He pondered often what it must've been like having to skip a grade - surely there was extra credit work to be done to catch up. Gigi was bright, but she wasn't a teen prodigy or anything, and while she never really talked about it much, to Finn it seemed the workload she had was definitely not easy on her.
"Not unless you know much about forensics," Gigi said.
"God, what do they teach you there?" Finn exclaimed with a chuckle.
"Well, it was either that or principles of engineering," she replied, making it sound like the choice had been self evident.
"As long as you don't forget to have fun every once in a while," Finn smirked, the sentence flowing out of him. For a moment he regretted it - it almost sounded like too much of an invite.
Gigi noticed his impression change as he'd said it, feeling a slight flutter in her gut at that smirk. She'd tried to tone down the way she behaved around him significantly after their talk a few months ago, not wanting him to stop hanging out with her. But it was those little moments that kept giving her hope. Though she wasn't even sure what she hoped for. She did have a crush on him. And she almost had expected it to fade out in time, she'd even tried distracting herself with a few guys at school - but she'd just become indifferent to them, they seemed boring and predictable. She knew the idea of her and Finn was wishful thinking - Finn was charming naturally - it didn't really mean anything - like he'd explained himself. She'd even read a few psychological case studies on teenager that liked older men, and vice versa - but none of it seemed to apply. She wasn't after a father figure or someone wiser or more dominant, and Finn, not that he'd explained himself in great detail, but she had a feeling he had no craving for jailbait as such or chasing the 'Lolita' phenomenon of grooming her into something she wasn't.
They were friends - and she desperately tried to hide how she felt, by limiting the times she wanted to contact him or how much she hung out with him, picking her outfits and words around him, just so he wouldn't feel uncomfortable.
AN: As you can see there is a bit of a forbidden love thing between G and F going on (and I know it's borderline inappropriate, but I hope you don't hate me for it). There's a song that inspires me in writing about them but unfortunately I think there are just a couple of people who might know the song among my readers (based on the traffic stats) as it is in Finnish - by Anna Puu - "Säännöt rakkaudelle" (Rules for love)). There are some English lyrics translations available online but the song itself is not translated (but a very good song nonetheless). Essentially it's about loving someone but not being able to show it, having to make rules to keep up appearances, not really able to express any of. It makes me tear up every time... something utterly romantic about forbidden loves, isn't there?