Tegan
March 2013
"It's going to be okay," my mother says through the loud, monotonous ringtone of my constant sobbing. "It has to be okay." I can hear her doubt through her words.
It is not going to be okay.
How can she know when she has not gone through such a catastrophe? How can she know when nobody has ever gone through such a disaster?
I've been crying for two days now. Two whole days. I didn't stop for a second. I couldn't sleep because I was crying. If I stopped a bit, I thought a little and my tears resumed the moment after. Since I've reached Calgary two days ago, I haven't stopped crying.
I thought I could continue with this cold and bitchy attitude I was giving everyone. I thought I was okay. I thought things were going to be okay because I am that invincible woman I thought I am. I didn't shed a single tear selling the apartment. I didn't shed a tear texting Sara like the heartless motherfucker I am. Or should I say sister-fucker? I thought I was tough. I blamed everyone for this crippling calamity, but I didn't blame myself. I didn't stop to think for a second. I didn't think about myself and how insanely incapable I am of functioning like a normal ordinary human without her. I forgot that I cannot live a second without her. I forgot how completely and utterly dependent I am on her. I broke her body and begged her to forgive me. I shattered her and dragged her back to me and then all of a sudden I threw her because of what? Because laws say we can't love each other? Because of someone's ancient mistake? Because of a mysterious, suspicious past? Because of society? Because I am a child of this sick society and I was immediately disgusted after the revelation?
Why?
I ask myself why with each tear that escapes my swollen eyes. Why didn't I let it go? Why couldn't I solve it normally? Why can't I do that? Why isn't there anything in me that can take back the medicine that I need to survive?
And how am I going to survive now with her away from me?
How am I going to be normal with her and my daughter away?
I wanted this baby. I wanted a family. I wanted everything we deserved but I guess the universe thinks I am such a bad human that it was willing to deprive me of all these good things everyone can easily have.
Yeah, that's me. It's been like that since ever. Why am I even surprised?
What did I ever do to deserve this? I never killed anyone. I never stole. I didn't hurt anyone.
Maybe that's punishment because of how much I hurt her?
Yeah. I am a bad person. That's why this baby can't stay with a fuck up like me. I am a lunatic. I am a magnet for disaster.
Sara was fine and happy before I entered her life. When I did, her life turned to a living hell.
Hell, I know I'm the living hell walking on foot. I am the mouth of this hellish doom I dragged her in.
Out of all people I ended up a roommate to my sister. I loved my sister. I fucked my sister. I made a baby with my sister. Out of all people.
Am I the unlucky one or is she the unlucky one for getting stuck in my endless circle of torment?
Well, I think she's unlucky because, honestly, I'm just a fucked up human being. I deserve all this. I certainly do.
"You're gonna hurt yourself and your baby," again I hear my mother's voice and feel her hand rubbing my sweaty back.
Hurt myself, okay. Hurt the baby? No, no, that's not acceptable. "She's not my baby," I shout at my mother.
"Just calm down. Please." My mum seems scared of me, as if I am a monster ready to devour her.
Well, after what I have done to Sara, she can't be blamed for fearing me. I am a monster.
Jeremy visits as soon as he learns I am hidden in my mother's house. He gives me a soothing hug and hears me as I cry in my room.
"I wish I can tell you something that can make this fucking disaster a bit better but there's honestly nothing to say that's gonna make this better."
"Don't say anything," I answer quietly. "I'm tired of hearing people's stupid lies."
"This is just…unbelievable."
"Well, believe it," I say rudely.
He remains silent.
"What am I gonna do without my baby?" I lose it once again to my sobs. I look at him with a foggy vision due to the excessive tears blurring my sight. "How am I going to live without her?"
"Why…why did you give her up?" he asks timidly.
"I don't want her to live the way I lived. I am a fuck up. I can't raise her alone. I'll be another version of my mother, maybe worse. I am mentally ill. I can barely take care of me to take care of a child." I chuckle, rubbing my huge belly. "God knows I can't even take care of me. Sara did take care of me and I…well, I just fucked her up big time."
"I just wish to ask a question but…please be gentle with your reaction."
Of course he'll ask that. I am, to everyone, an abusive bitch.
"Ask," I say gruffly.
"Why couldn't you just let it go and stay with her? It's not like you guys were raised together for her to be a sister. I mean, biologically, she is. But, you know, you are technically strangers. I mean…" He groans. "Fuck, forget it."
I wish I can stay with her because he's right. He's absolutely right.
"If I didn't know, I'd still be with her. I wish I didn't have to know."
And the day I feared mostly comes all of a sudden without me expecting it. I feel pain in the morning. I feel normal cramps. Usual period cramps that I inform my mother about over breakfast. She looks at me for a moment then her eyes widen.
"Contractions," she yells. "You're having contractions," she says again as I squeeze my eyes shut with every wave of pain.
"What the fuck are contractions?"
"I think you're in labor," my mother says, standing up quickly. I begin to panic immediately. My breathing becomes heavy and my eyes tear up. "Relax." She kneels in front of me and puts her hand above my belly. "Just relax. Take a deep breath." I do as I am told. "Does it hurt badly?" I shake my head. "It comes and goes?" I nod, already feeling the pain back again. "How many minutes are between each contraction?" I shrug. "I need answers, Tegan."
"I don't know."
"Ten minutes between each one?"
"Less." I take a deep breath again and squeeze my eyes as the pain returns. "Oh, God," I scream because the pain is worse this time.
"These are definitely contractions." I can witness the nerves in my mother's actions even though she's trying to be calm and collected.
She helps me up to my room but as I am climbing up the stairs another wave of pain hits. I sit down and hold my abdomen while tears start to collect in my eyes.
"I have to call the midwife right away."
"Each time it's worse than the other."
"I know, trust me."
I reach my room and lie on my bed. I rest my head on my pillow and close my eyes. I can feel my heart beating. I'm not sure I'm ready for this moment. My entire body is going numb due to fear and nerves. I didn't imagine I was gonna go through this process without Sara. I need her beside me as I birth this baby. She has to take the baby before I get used to her because I know I will. My cries increase as I watch my mother talking to the midwife.
"She says it's still early to deliver. These contractions are gonna continue." I nod. "You should sleep, honey." I shake my head, suppressing a loud sob accompanied by a scream. "Try to, Tegan. You have to be strong to deliver. Your body should be strong. Come on, dear. I'll get in bed with you."
Mum must knows; she knows I need her to do anything at the moment. She knows why I'm crying. She kisses my forehead and rubs my back gently. She lets me cry until I fall asleep, only realizing I have slept when I am awakened by an excruciating pain in my back. I scream loudly as I feel the wetness between my legs. My mother comes inside; her fear-stricken face is in all shades of yellow and red.
"My water broke," I fill her in, trying to control my breathing. I reach for my inhaler to aid my lungs. She reaches for her phone quickly to call the midwife.
"We have to prepare the tub," she tells me after her phone call. I already feel dizzy because of the growing pain.
"It hurts so bad," I whine as she helps me get rid of my clothes.
"We have to know how dilated you are. I'm not gonna…you know, do that. I'll wait for the midwife." I ignore her words to focus on the most hurtful pain I've ever endured. I take a hold of her hand and squeeze. "Oh shit, are you already pushing?" she helps me in the half empty tub. "No, Tegan, baby, don't push." I push again to get rid of the pain, feeling my entire body on fire and lead. "Shit. Where is she?"
"Call Sara," I cry loudly. "Call her please."
What I thought would end soon, actually ended up taking eight full hours of screaming and crying. Maybe I couldn't do it until Sara came, but when she finally did I felt better, much better. I've never endured such pain. I don't think I can ever describe it to you, Sally. Part of me wishes you won't have to try it, part of me wishes that you'll be a mother one day and try it. I guess the choice isn't mine. That pain; though, made me feel like I was losing too much. I thought to myself, 'how can I bear this fucking soreness and give her away? She's part of me. I can't just give her up.' It was so hard watching my mother take you away from my breast to give you to Sara. I was pleading with my eyes for you to stay away from me because just this little gesture made me get attached. That day was the best and worst day of my life. You came into my life but you weren't going to stay in it. Nobody will ever know this feeling. Nobody will ever be able to tell how hollow and empty I felt.
I jump when they hand me the tiny infant, forcing me to stay awake. I look at Sara for a second, begging her to take this helpless being away from me. Before I can voice my plea, I feel the baby latch on my nipple. "Oh my…" I gasp, trying to tame down my reaction so I don't scare the baby. "Mama…" I call for my mother. Someone has to take her away. I can't force her to stop feeding. I can't do it on my own.
""It's okay. Just hold her. It's natural, honey. Just this time. Don't push her away." It's honestly a strange feeling. It's not comfortable. Maybe it's the growing fear within me, maybe I'm just not used to this nor do I want to get used to it.
I look at Sara, but she's already getting out of the room. She turns around and leaves quickly. I look back at my mother, frowning and crying. Sonia sighs and follows her. Is this all my fault? Did I ruin everything?
The baby in my arms seems so innocent. She doesn't understand what's going on. She's feeding as if she hasn't eaten in ages. I can't but smile, softly caressing her soft hairs. She's dirty and full of blood but I don't care. She looks like the most beautiful thing I've ever held. Her eyes are barely open, the color isn't that clear; they almost look like two crystals. Her lips are pink and tiny. She has the smallest button nose I've seen. Her nails are long. Her ears are red. Her feet are small. She's healthy and carefree. She's mine.
All beautiful thoughts halt as soon as my mother and Sara return, and my mother takes the baby away from me to give her to Sara. I wanted her to stop feeding so I can start getting used to not having her, but when mother took her, I immediately froze.
I take a look at Sara, lost and unable to figure out how to deal with the newborn in her arms. The baby pees on her. She's shaking, she's confused. I'm confused, too. Not because holding the baby was confusing but because I was stupid enough to give her up before even meeting her. I wish I can take my words back but what's done is done. Plus, I know too well she'll be better off with Sara. Sara knows how to take care of people. I don't know how to do that.
When mum and Sara leave the bathroom, the midwife helps me wash up. The pain between my legs is torturous. I can barely sit properly or stand. She tells me that this is gonna last for a few days until I begin to heal.
"Urinating is going to be a bit hard for you. That tear is huge." I try to look down between my legs but she lifts up my face immediately. "Don't look right now." I nod my head, unable to discuss anything with her because I'm too dizzy to speak. "It'll look better in few hours, don't worry." I nod again. "Alright, so you're gonna need to use these pads this week until the bleeding becomes normal then you can use any pad you want." She shows me a bag of huge sanitary pads that my eyes widen looking at. She laughs. "I know. Back to middle ages."
"Why? Am I going to bleed so much?"
"Postpartum bleeding is normal. You can't use a tampon, however."
"For how long?"
"First week is heavy the rest will be normal. After two or three weeks it's going to be mostly discharge but it depends. Maximum six weeks."
"Holy fuck." She laughs once again. "Pads give me a rash."
"These ones are soft. Don't worry." I sigh as she helps me get dressed. "I'm guessing you're not gonna breastfeed." I shake my head. "That's gonna be tough a bit at the beginning until your milk stops. You have to take drugs for that but not now. You have to wait a bit." I know that. Mum already told me. In all honesty, everything sucks. Everything is hard. The entire process or concept is tough if one isn't fully ready for it. Though I thought I was ready for it. I thought it was going to be worth it. Fate decided that I am not ready, neither is Sara.
They let me sleep after they name the baby and leave my room. In the morning, I wake up with Sally gone.
I wake up to a terrible pain in my lower abdomen, pain that makes me weep in my bed, unable to get up. My mother helps me to the bathroom. One other thing worse than this pain is sitting on the toilet to pee.
"It fucking hurts. I can't take it." I take a strong hold of my mother's sleeve as I try to pee.
"I know. It'll get better."
But it doesn't feel like it's going to. My body starts to miss this baby I only met for an hour. I try to eat but I don't feel hungry. I try to watch television but I give up to my grief and resume crying. My mother says that's just me going through afterbirth depression, but she should be the one person who knows too well how it feels to have your child taken away from you.
"Sara's still here, Tegan. With her mother." My mother decides it's best to sleep next to me at night. I don't mind that. In fact, I need that. She talks to me for a bit, making my tears halt. "I can get her to visit tomorrow for you to see Sally."
"I'm already attached. I can't get more attached."
She sighs in defeat. "I wish I can make you feel better, but it's just a feeling you'll have to live with until you make another child."
I chuckle at the absurdity of her thoughts. "I won't have another."
"You think so."
"No, I know so. I won't love anyone again. I still…love her."
She sighs again.
"My breasts hurt badly. They leak a lot."
"You have to pump them. Why don't you do that? We'll give the milk to Sara before she goes."
I turn myself to the other side and ignore her suggestion. I close my eyes while tears continue to pass.
The next day doesn't seem better at all. I feel worse. I try to free the milk in my breast by squeezing it out while taking a shower. What's not helping are the three holes in each nipple because of my old piercings. I have leaked the entire time I'm asleep.
I wake up the day after at dawn, feeling suffocated, tired, unable to breathe well, unable to stay at home. I discover the beginning of a rash when I pee so I get rid of the pads and use a tampon. I change my clothes and sneakily leave the house. It's cold outside. It's freezing. But if I stay home more than this, I am going to lose it.
I take a long walk. I walk miles and miles. The second becomes a minute and the minute becomes an hour. I feel a growing pain between my legs but ignore it. I spot the old coffee house I used to get my coffee from in high school. I tread to it and order a cup of black coffee and a doughnut. As I begin munching on my breakfast I remember Sara and how much she loved a classic jelly doughnut. Slowly, I start to think of her and Sally. I start to wonder what she's doing now. Is she sleeping well? Probably not. My kid is probably crying till morning. Does she miss me? Do they both want me and miss me?
I make myself angry and frustrated with my thoughts so I head home quickly. My steps turn into runs until I reach my place, watching my mother with a grave glare on her face.
"Where were you?" she shouts. "I've been worried sick. You didn't even take your phone." She starts crying.
"I was just around there corner. I wanted to walk a bit. I wanted some air. Just chill."
I go up to my room and head to the bathroom. Somehow the bleeding has become worse, or maybe because I'm using a tampon. I remove it and insert another one. I change my clothes and lie down to cope with the sudden pain my uterus decided to surprise me with.
"Tegan," I hear my mother's voice before she enters. "Want some tea?" I nod quickly, feeling sharp pains between my legs. "Are you okay?"
"Yes."
"Alright."
She returns with my tea, a sandwich, and a heating pad. "Use this. It will help you."
"I'm not hurt," I lie. She will probably think I'm hurt because I was walking so I can't tell her that I'm in pain quite similar to that of birth.
"Well, it seems that you are."
The tea and the heating pad make me feel better, but the sandwich makes me feel nauseous. Cyndi comes up to me meowing loudly and I take her in my arms to pet her. The only thing left of Sara is this cat. I haven't told her I took it and I won't. She gets the baby I get the cat and I think that's fair for us. I was forced to change my number by the stupidity and stubbornness of my mind. I didn't want her to call. I didn't want anyone to call. I changed my number then ended up calling her on it. Now I check my phone each minute to see if she sent something, but why would she? I'm the one who kicked her and my kid away.
At noon the pain increases, making me unable to do anything. I curl up in bed and squeeze my legs together as I feel sharp stings between them. I begin to sweat but at the same time I feel myself freezing. I know by now I have a fever but I don't know what's going on with me. I close my eyes for a second as tears start to run across my face. I have never felt such pain. Everything in me is fighting. Everything in me is breaking.
"Mum," I call, but she doesn't hear me. I can't raise my voice. I feel like I'm going to faint. I try to get up. I have to tell her. I feel my legs going numb. I kick my blanket but I see a view that makes me shudder.
I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding my entire guts out if that's possible. It's not normal. It's increasing. The more I look the harder I cry. "Mum, mum, mum," I shout, hoping she's not downstairs, hoping she's not outside. "Mum, come here. Mum."
"What's going?" her panicking voice rings through me as she comes inside with her towel wrapped around her body and her hair wet and dripping. "Oh my god," she shrieks. "What happened? What did you do?"
"I don't know. Don't yell at me. I don't know." I sniffle and shake and cry and weep. She holds me up with both hands but I can't even stand. "No, it hurts. It fucking hurts," I shout at her, pushing her hands off me.
"What hurts?" she asked, panicking and scared.
"Everything." I sit on the floor and weep.
"Let me look at your stitches," she's shouting and I hate that. I hate her loud voice. I hate her anger. I want Sara. I want someone gentle. Sara would have been gentle. She would have known how to take care of this situation. "I think you fucking tore them open."
"Stop shouting, please."
"I'm sorry." She sits on the floor next to me. "I'm worried. Let me take you to the bathroom. You're bleeding heavily." I nod, taking her hand. She helps me limp my way to the bathroom.
When she rids me off my clothes she gasps loudly. I cover my mouth right after I look at the heinous view. "Why did you use a tampon?" she yells again, pulling it out quickly."Are you stupid? You have an infection. Your stitches are open. I have to take you to the hospital." Her screams are loud enough to make me lose consciousness of what's around me. I begin to block her to feel better. If she shouts more I might hit her and I can't do that, I have to resist it.
"Tegan, get up. Try to. I have to get you to the car. I have to get you to the hospital," her voice calms down but she can't understand that I don't even have the power to get up. She tries her best to pull me to the bathtub, but she ends up falling next to me. She starts to cry. "Oh God, please don't let me lose you."
Once she gets me in the bathtub, she washes me thoroughly but the sting between my legs increases and I start to scream. She's very quick but it seems too slow because of the torture I'm in. She dresses me then dresses herself with clothes she finds in my closet. In the hospital I'm soon anesthetized from the waist down as doctors and nurses gather between my legs, touching and stitching. My mother is crying softly as I try to push every hope within me out of the darkness of my despair, because I honestly don't think I can live with this soul that I carry, with the losses I have endured, with nothing to look forward to.
I'm put to bed rest at the hospital for the night until I can walk again. I had to get new stitches. Apparently I shouldn't have gone out walking and I certainly shouldn't have used a tampon because now I'm suffering a nasty ass infection in my vagina. Why did I want to have a baby? Why didn't I let Sara do it? What did I get out of this? Pain? Loss? Anguish? Misery? Depression?
I deserve it.
Jeremy visits in the morning before I get to leave. He's the only who knows about my pregnancy other than my two aunts, father, and grandfather. Other than them, thankfully, nobody. Or else I wouldn't have been able to show my face in Calgary. I haven't seen any of my aunts yet. My grandfather visited once before I gave birth. He seemed resentful, upset, angry, disappointed. He wanted to see Sara, but mum said Sara refused to meet any family member again because they're not hers. It's funny how she spent her entire life searching for people she doesn't even wanna look in the eye.
"Yeah, laugh about that. It's funny to you because you don't have a fucking vagina."
Jeremy is laughing again. Somehow my pain is amusing to him.
"I'm sorry, Teegles, but that's just so you. Like you couldn't even last a week without fucking yourself up down there."
"If you don't shut up, I'll fuck you up down there too you'll kiss your boyfriend's ass goodbye."
"Tegan," my mum scolds. I roll my eyes at her glaring ones. I ignore the nurse whose eyes are roaming with disgust. My mother should know I don't give a fuck about people. Maybe I cared a tiny bit when I was with Sara, but why should I now that I have lost everything I have?
"Oh, sorry. I ran out of fucks to give."
Jeremy laughs again, but soon he stops once he looks at my mother's dissatisfied face.
At home I cry again next to Jeremy. He tries his best to make me feel better but it's all in vain. My cat is staring at me as if I am some type of a silent movie good to watch.
The days won't pass. My heart won't heal.
"You'll get back to work again and you'll slowly start to forget."
"I don't want to forget. I wanna be near my baby. I wanna be close to her."
"But you asked to stay away," Jeremy argues.
"I know." I wipe my tears. "I regret it."
"You can fix it."
"How?"
He shrugs. "Talk to her."
"She hates me." I wipe more tears. "I don't think she wants the baby to be near me. I don't think she wants to know there is competition. I can't take the baby away from her after what I did. I already took a lot from her and Karma has hit me. Now I have nothing."
My dad visits in the evening. He has been in New York for the past few months to deal with the company I left behind. I bet he thinks I don't even deserve what he trusted me with. He seems down; quiet, unable to say a word to me.
"I always told your mother to get Sara to take a DNA test before it's too late," he tells me. "She didn't listen. I knew something was strange. Even Sara suspected."
"Sara knew," I whisper. "She knew but she decided to ignore it."
"How did you know?" I shrug. "You just assumed?"
"She told me she did. We didn't sleep with each other for an entire year because she was scared she was sleeping with a sister. She said she told Rob and he told her she's imagining. He said she should make sure before assuming. She pushed the thoughts away." If I cry more I'm going blind. I can already feel my eyes getting bad. "That's why I hit her after I knew. She knew and she was okay with it. She was sleeping with me and she knew. Even when she made sure she still slept with me. I had the right to know, too. I had the right to know."
"It's not your fault. It's not hers. If she said something it would be the same."
"No," I shake my head. "It wouldn't be. We wouldn't have had a child, dad. Now there's a baby involved and this baby is going to grow up and start asking questions."
He sighs because he can't say anything. He knows I'm right. He knows it's mostly his and mum's mistake.
"And I miss my baby and I want her." I'm blanketed with a warm hug when my loud sob fails me. "I want her," I mumble and sniffle.
My mum sleeps next to me at night. She holds me close and soon I feel myself dancing inside my dreams—happy, relaxed, safe. I feel so safe. I feel like I'm up in the sky, floating with the clouds. I have never felt safe.
But when I wake up in the morning, my head aches in rhythm with my body. Painkillers and antibiotics are thin air compared to my pain.
I play my old Friends DVDs and watch for hours, laughing, tearing up, and then crying even though there's no need to cry.
A knock on the door distracts me from the screen. "Come in," I say, not expecting the person outside to be Sara in all her beauty, her exhaustion, her hesitance to stand right at the door, too scared to let herself inside.
But that's not what makes me sit up, click pause, and stare in wonder and awe. The baby clung to her in the grey sling makes my stomach nervous, makes me forget about the physical pain in my body, twisting it to excitement and perplexity. I'm unable to say anything. I don't know what to say. I'm afraid if my mouth utters something it might hurt her. I'm afraid she might take the baby again and rush out of the room.
"Uh…" I try to swallow the lump in my throat, I try to speak but I fail. "Uh…hi."
"Can I come in?" I nod quickly, shifting away the clothes piled up untidily on my mattress to make space. "Did…did mum call you?"
"No…I…I called her." She takes slow steps towards my bed. She's cautious, she's afraid. "I took Sally to the GP today. I wanted to make sure she's healthy."
I look at the beautiful angelic face of the baby snug cozily in Sara's arms. Her eyes are widely open now. The color is clearer and it's just like the color of my eyes; just like the color of Sara's eyes; hazel, sunny, coppery, tranquil. The blue pacifier in her small lips. Her hands are tightly closed. Her head is still mostly hairless. There are only few strands of light brown hair on top. "Is she?" I ask.
"Yes." She finally sits down, smiling at the innocent baby. "She's perfect." I smile, too. I can't help it. My tears share my emotions, making sure to wet my face immediately. "Wanna hold her?" I nod, wiping away the embarrassing display of vulnerability. I bet she knows I regret the rash decision I made, and I truly don't care.
"I need a favor," she says again with pleading eyes. "She's not accepting the milk we're giving her. She cries and throws a tantrum. I stay up all night trying to make her drink it but she hates it. I'm worried. The doctor thinks I breastfeed her so he said that I should rely on it a hundred percent until she accepts the bottle. I couldn't even tell him I didn't give birth to her. The papers they forged say I'm her biological mother, Tegan. I can't even lie."
"And that's your biggest problem? That you're not her mother?" I shake my head at myself as soon the words leave my lips. I promised myself I wouldn't hurt her so why am I doing this? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that." It's too late. She's already crying.
"Yes. That's my biggest problem. I'll live with a lie my entire life. I won't get to tell her about the moment I gave birth to her. I can't breastfeed her and she won't let go of my chest. I won't ever know that feeling, that bond, that special connection. She won't ever know the truth and she shouldn't know the truth. She cries all night. She doesn't get milk like any other baby. She'll have one mother her entire life. She won't have two parents. That's my biggest problem. You want to make fun of it? Go ahead. I don't care. I just want you to feed her if you can. I want her to be healthy." She stands up again. "If you don't want to then I'm sorry I bothered you. You won't hear of us again."
"No, no, no," loudly, I scream. "Don't leave." I'm crying like a pathetic dog right now. My angry emotions scare Sally, therefore she begins to cry, too.
"Oh, no. Shhh, baby." Sara takes her out of the sling and picks her up. "Shhh, mama's here. Look at me, baby. Come on. Nothing's to be afraid of." She calms down. She stops crying, just like that; it's magic.
She walks up to me once again. Sally's pushing her face in her chest as she sits right beside me. "Uh…wait. I don't know how to…" I lift up my hoodie but it's too big and thick, which restricts me from uncovering my chest.
"I don't know, too." She stares down at the baby shyly. "Just do it like last time." She kisses Sally's head. I wish I can do that, too.
I take off my hoodie and lower the left cup of my bra. Sara's face burns with a deep shade of red when her eyes look at my breast. I'm not even comfortable with how my body looks at the moment. Everything is extra large and swollen and it's probably far from attractive to her.
She hands me the baby carefully. My heart is drumming, my stomach is in knots. As soon as I hold her, the baby starts to scream. My anxiety rises as I look at the creature in my arms. "Hold her head. It's okay. She's not used to you." My daughter is not used to me, how ironic is that? "Shh, Sally. Hush, little snowball. I'm right here." I look at Sara for a second. That's what they used to call her. Now she's calling our daughter that.
"Fuck, fuck." I jump when I feel her lips latch on my nipple. My tears haven't stopped but now they're increasing as I look at her suckling as if it's the most natural process ever. "How does she know?"
Sara shrugs. "I guess it's natural. It's just an instinct."
"I'm not sure if I have much milk." Sara's eyes are tired. A purplish hue is around them, bags under them, loss inside them; but they're still more beautiful than the sunrise itself. "I've been freeing it all in the sink. I leak a lot. It's disgusting."
"You should use breastfeeding pads and much more comfortable bras than these." I laugh at her suggestion. "Why are you laughing?" She's still insecure.
"It just made me remember."
"Remember what?" I shake my head, looking at Sally starting to writhe in my arms. I put my index and middle finger between my nipple to squeeze the milk out.
"You used to take care of me," I mumble uncomfortably. I don't want to talk about the past if it's supposedly closed. I'll hurt myself again and I want this temporary hour to be some type of recovery for me.
"Your mum told me." I look up at her again but she's looking down at my chest. "The stitches and the infection." I nod. "It hurts?" I chuckle. "You used a tampon?"
"Umm…yeah?"
"When I was seventeen I had Toxic Shock Syndrome because of it. I had kept it all night. I didn't know that was a dangerous thing. I almost died." She laughs softly. "I always almost die. But damn that was such a fucked up thing. That's why I never use tampons anymore. I hate what that little thing did to me."
"You never told me."
"I never told anyone."
"Why?"
"It's embarrassing."
"It's not."
"Maybe not now, but I was shy when I was young. I never talked about it and I just didn't find it necessary to, you know, mention it."
I wish I can kiss her when she speaks like that. I wish I can take her in my arm and call her mine. I wish I didn't feel so disgusted with myself thinking about it. I wish she wasn't my sister.
"I know you're suffering probably way more than me. I know that." I chuckle again. "It's not a competition, Tegan."
"No, it's not." But why do we have to pay for a mistake that's not ours? "I think I should use…umm, my other breast…it's starting to hurt."
"Yeah, I'll pick her up."
But Sally shrieks and cries when she's picked up by Sara. My selfish needs make me happy inside. She wants me. She knows I'm her mother.
"Auntie Tegan won't leave you, baby. She's right here. You get all the milk you need."
Auntie Tegan. How ironic.
"She's so hungry," Sara comments right after I return Sally to my bosom. "I don't know what am I gonna do with her not drinking normal milk."
"How long are you staying here?" I ask, finding a difficulty in the latch this time. Maybe because I pushed my nipple this time and didn't wait for her to do it. "Oh, oh, that hurts."
"Uh..just twist your…okay yeah, that's it." Sara knows better than me and she doesn't even have to do that.
And my jealousy rises with every word and every action, but I guess it's just something I'll have to live with.
"I don't know how long I'm staying here. We're waiting for the papers and her passport to be ready. I can't travel like this." I nod, already thinking of a plan in my head. "Umm...Stephen visited yesterday. He wanted to see her."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she mumbles. "He said you're hurting."
"It's karma, Sara. It's called karma."
"Don't say that."
I don't reply.
We let the silence take over. We both look at our child slowly falling asleep. These moments should have been showered with immense merriness and cheerful excitement. We would be in our bedroom. I wouldn't be hurt. I would be healthy because I would be taken care of. We would have been happy.
"She slept," Sara whispers. "Finally."
I give her back to Sara. She stands up, not saying a single word. I put on my hoodie once again.
"Thank you," she whispers. "I might need to come here again tomorrow but I don't want her to get used to your milk because when I go back it's going to be hard again."
"I'll pump the milk for her today and let's see tomorrow if she'll like it in the bottle. Maybe it's the taste of the ordinary milk she doesn't like."
"Or maybe she just wants her mother," Sara says.
"You're her mother, too." I spot a tear slowly making itself visible on the pale cheek of my sister as she nods.
I wish she wasn't my sister.