There were many adjustments to be made after Little Sam was born. One of them was the cot in Vimes' office.
Some women would have stayed home for a few months before returning to work, or rely on a friend or a wet nurse while they worked for feedings.
Sam was having none of that. She was more than capable of feeding her own daughter, thank you very much. And as for staying away from the Watch, the month's bed rest that Dr Lawn had prescribed had magically turned into three weeks with two weeks filled with daily Watch reports in front of Saul's eyes.
And as Sam explained to Saul one night with Little Sam between them, "Saul, my mother had no other choice but to take me with her to work until I was on mushes[1]. And I turned out fine."
Saul still didn't look convinced so Sam went on. "And…" Even now, it was hard for Sam to express certain things. "I'd like to have her by me, for awhile."
Saul thought about how he'd have Little Sam all to his self during the day once she was weaned. As well, he looked at his wife and saw the dueling devotion between the City and her duty, against the little auburn bundle that was wiggling between them and said,
"I think, Sam, after all your years of hard work and dedication, that you have earned at the very least some accommodation." Sam grinned.
And so until Little Sam was about six months old, Vimes took her into work with her. She carried Little Sam around in a sling that, to be honest, looked rather incongruous against her armor, but Vimes certainly didn't care. Not to mention, it was infinitely more easy to clean baby messes off of metal as opposed to cloth.
The crib in Vimes office was a gift from Cheery and the other dwarf officers in the Watch. It could not only expand into a playpen as Little Sam got bigger and older but had all sorts of little nooks and crannies and bobbly things to delight any baby.[2] There was a "Do Not Disturb" sign for the door, for when she had to feed Little Sam. And on the rare occasions that Sam's presence truly was required out in the City, there were any number of desk sergeants in Pseudopolis Yard falling other themselves to watch Little Sam.
It ate at Sam's copper soul to be riding a desk for so long [3], but every time she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she would look at Little Sam attempting to chew her own feet, or giggling at something only she could see, and remember that some sacrifices were worth it.
1. Solids are for babies and toddlers with teeth. Duh.
2. And Sam most resolutely did NOT cry when she got that, thank you very much. She just had dust in her eyes.
3. And not smoking. While having the baby around certainly provided for happy moments, for many years afterwards, Watchmen would gauge how irritable their Commander was at the current time compared to the six months she spent stuck at her desk with no cigars.