Child Brides of India

By C. Stanton Leman

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 81: And Babies Make Five (MFfg, rom, cons, no sex)

 

 

 

All three of my wives were really enjoying America. We’d taken a two-day sightseeing excursion to Washington D. C., mostly for Monaavi’s sake but we all have a good time. We also went to Williamsburg, Va. and a few other tourist attractions.

 

In early August, Monaavi and I took a tour of the Greater Baltimore Medical Center, where her stateside OB/GYN conducted his deliveries: just in case she had to deliver unexpectedly. She immediately fell in love with the facilities. The complex had modern combination labor/birthing rooms, the ability to have family present for the birth and the friendliness of the staff was remarkable. The fact that if the twins were born here, they’d be American citizens sparked an unexpected family discussion.

 

After dinner that night, Monaavi made the comment, “I really like the hospital here and you know that if the girls were born here, they’d be American citizens.”

 

We all looked at each other and Mom said, “What about school? Priya starts class the first week of September and the younger girls need to get back to their studies?”

 

“I know, Mom,” Monaavi conceded, “it’s just a wish. I know realistically it can’t happen but I just wish it could, that’s all.”

 

“Priya?” Mom asked, “What’s your take on this?”

 

“Well,” Priya started, “the way I see it, the biggest problem will be with Leeya and Attiya. I could take a semester off and still graduate early, but what of the girls?”

 

Leeya cut in with, “I could work real hard and make up the work, but what about Tiya? Will she fall behind?”

 

Putting in my two cents I injected, “If we did stay, it would probably be November or early December before we got back. Monaavi, you deliver in early October and you’ll need at least six weeks recovery time and probably that much time for the babies to be ready to travel.”

 

Monaavi started crying and said, “I know, it was just a thought that’s all. I was just kind of thinking whimsically, wishing out loud.”

 

“What about your mother?” Mom suddenly asked. “Can she work with Attiya until you get back? You said she’s the one that taught you to love children.”

 

“(Sniffle) I don’t know,” Monaavi answered. “I never thought about her teaching, but she’s good with kids and she’s college educated; maybe she could.”

 

We just looked at each other for a few silent moments when Mom said, “Well, call her! It’ll be morning there, maybe she’ll be home.”

 

Leeya leapt to her feet, ran and grabbed the cordless then returned to the table, handing the phone to Monaavi. After dialing the number we waited to see if Hindi or Ravi would pick up. Sitting silent, we could all hear the phone ring five times when Monaavi said, ”Hello, Momma?”

 

After putting Hindi at ease and telling her she and the babies were fine, she asked her mother about teaching Attiya for a few months. They spoke back and forth for about ten minutes when Monaavi got a beaming smile on her face nodding yes quickly as her mother spoke. After discussing the preliminaries, Monaavi told her she’d call her later with the particulars and after saying the parting “I love you’s” and salaams, they disconnected.

 

Monaavi set the phone down, jumped to her feet and danced around the table singing, “My babies are gonna be Americans!”

 

Priya and Leeya were the first to embrace her, dancing right along with her. Mom got into the act before the expectant father was allowed to jump in.

 

Over the next two weeks, Priya changed her registration putting off returning to school for a semester and Monaavi filled her mother in on Attiya’s lesson plans. We went for Monaavi’s bi-monthly checkup and her doctor was surprised but happy to hear she wanted to deliver here and had his secretary have Monaavi pre-admitted to GBMC.

 

________________________

 

When September rolled around, Monaavi began Leeya’s and Tina’s lessons again and we were all getting anxious as her time approached. Monaavi would talk with her Mom once a week to review and set up Attiya’s lesson plan and things seemed to be working out fine.

 

The last Thursday in September the weather was great: warm but around seventy with a nice breeze so the three girls and I decided to go to Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. We were walking along the colonnade about noon when Monaavi suddenly stopped and gasped. I looked over at her as her jeans suddenly darkened and it looked like she was peeing herself. Feeling embarrassed for her, I removed my jacket and put it around her waist and she said, “It’s time, I think my water just broke. I know I didn’t pee myself.”

 

PANIC!!!!!!

 

“W-w-what did you say?” I stuttered.

 

Leeya was jumping up and down clapping almost yelling “Oh goody, goody, goody! We’re gonna have a baby!”

 

Priya was in as much shock as I was and just stared at Monaavi slack-jawed. “Are you sure?” she asked to confirm.

 

“Uh huh” Monaavi beamed, “and it’s running down my legs, let’s hurry!”

 

Cradling her watermelon belly with her hands, we started walking to the car. A gazillion thoughts were spinning in my head and at the same time and I couldn’t think straight like: “Will I faint? She’s gonna deliver, I’m gonna be a daddy: diapers, bottles, breast pumps, and midnight feedings with two screaming girls — GIRLS! Boys — with dicks! THREE virginities to protect, clothes — “Daddy, I don’t have a thing to wear!” The bathroom: I’ll have to make an appointment to even see one again! Cat fights, periods, cramps, PMS - OHMYGOD!!!

 

“Well,” Monaavi asked as she waddled, “Aren’t you gonna say something?”

 

“Huh?” I mumbled as I came back to reality. “Yeah great, let’s go have some babies!”

 

I thought to myself, You’re such a pussy! You’ve got three wives: what can three daughters do to you, fool!

 

I just remembered that Monaavi’s hospital bag with all her things including a digital video and still camera was still at home, next to our bedroom door. I called Mom and she shrieked when I told her Monaavi’s water broke and that we were on the way to the hospital, to call Dad and meet us there with Monaavi’s things.

 

It was a good ten-minute walk to the car and another forty minute drive to the hospital. I called Monaavi’s doctor and told the secretary what had happened and that we’d see him there. She said he had another delivery, was already at the hospital and that she’d page him letting him know we were on our way.

 

We arrived at the maternity wing of the hospital at about one-twenty. The entrance is a “U” shaped drive that offered valet parking so I left the motor running, everyone exited the car and we went to the registration desk. We gave the receptionist Monaavi’s name and they whisked us into the delivery ward, putting Monaavi in delivery room ten.

 

The room looked like a four-star hotel room with a wall of fine wooden cabinets, a sitting room, bathroom and a hospital bed with all the electronic medical equipment on the wall surrounding the bed.

 

Her assigned nurse’s name was Cathy. Cathy helped Monaavi get undressed and into a hospital gown, started an IV and hooked up fetal monitors to Monaavi’s stomach. Suddenly, we could hear two heartbeats filling the room. The monitor showed one baby with a heart rate of 109 and the other 111.

 

Now we wait…

 

Dr. Simpson came in dressed in scrubs and greeted us with a smile. He examined Monaavi, her water definitely had broken and she was dilated about two centimeters. He told Cathy to start a Petossin drip and said, “Well, we may be here a while so try to get some rest: you’re going to need it. If the pain gets to be too much to bear, call Cathy and we’ll get your epidural started, okay?”

 

Monaavi was as cool as a cucumber and nodded with a smile. Me, I was a total wreck inside: shaking, sweat starting to appear on my brow. Hell, I was now starting to get cramps!

 

“Relax,” Monaavi said as she patted my hand, “I’m the one that’s going to have to do all the work. Be strong, Sean, I need you to be strong for me.”

 

Just hearing those words seemed to have an immediate calming effect on me and I replied softly with a smile, “We’re in this together and I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

 

Monaavi smiled and closing her eyes answered, “Good. I’m gonna try and get some rest.”

 

Mom showed up with Monaavi’s bag about an hour later huffing and puffing from rushing to get here. Dad followed twenty minutes later. Monaavi heard Mom come in and Monaavi opened her eyes and smiled as Mom hugged her saying, “Well, Sweetie, this is it. After today, you’ll really have your hands full for the rest of your life. How are you doing?’

 

“The contractions,” Monaavi answered, “are getting stronger and I think I’ll have to ask for the epidural soon. It really hurts a lot.”

 

I gave Monaavi some ice chips and repeatedly wiped her face with a cool washcloth. I thought that if I could relax her, she might feel better so I started massaging her feet. She tilted her head back with a smile and responded with “Mmmmm’s” and it seemed to do the trick for a while but after an hour, she called for the “juice”.

 

About twenty minutes after her epidural was put in, she had relaxed quite a bit. She’d drift in and out of a light sleep as her labor progressed. We’d been here for five hours and she’d dilated to six centimeters: God! Four centimeters to go!

 

Dr. Simpson would come in periodically and check her telling her, “I know this seems slow, but you’re actually delivering pretty quickly for your first time: some women are in labor for up to twenty-four hours with the first, sometimes longer.”

 

The nurses had changed shifts and Monaavi’s new nurse was Miko, a very young Japanese woman a little younger than Monaavi. At nine-thirty, Miko came in checking on Monaavi and acted calm, but pressed a button on the one of the fetal heart monitors and printed out a strip. She called Dr. Simpson and asked him to come in right away. She did it with such calmness we didn’t think anything of it.

 

Dr. Simpson came in, looked at the strip and examined Monaavi again. He said to her, “You’re dilated about nine and a half centimeters, but we need to start delivering now.”

 

“Why?” I asked worried.

 

“Well,” he answered calmly, “one of the baby’s heart rate is down to about ninety-four and we don’t want any problems. It could be nothing; just the stress of delivery or it might be something else. We want two healthy girls, right? So let’s do this now.”

 

Miko called in another nurse and in a flash, this “hotel room” morphed into a mini operating room. A huge light was pulled from a panel in the ceiling, they then removed the bottom of the bed and it now became a table with stirrups and as the one nurse readied the bed and everything, Miko helped Dr. Simpson get into surgical dress.

 

After putting Monaavi’s legs in the stirrups, her entire body from the waist down was exposed. Dad stood dazed for a moment then blurted out “Oops! I better leave!”

 

Monaavi said “Wait Dad! There’s no shame in bringing forth life, stay. Stay and represent my parents and watch your grandchildren take their first breaths.”

 

“Are you sure?” he asked to verify.

 

“Only if you want to, Dad,” Monaavi replied through her panting. “I know where your heart is and your eyes will be on life, not my nudity.”

 

Dad replied, “Well, alright, I’ll tape everything for you if you want.”

 

“Perfect,” Monaavi answered with a smile.

 

Mom came to stand next to the bed on Monaavi’s left and said, “I’ll help. Sean, you stand on the right and hold her foot up.”

 

Dr. Simpson took a seat between Monaavi’s legs and instructed her saying, “Now when the next contraction begins, I’ll say push. Hold your legs behind your thighs. When you push, push for the count of ten and relax. Sean, you count out the seconds for her. Coaches, while she’s pushing, help her by holding her legs back. Ready?”

 

Monaavi nodded as she grimaced through a contraction hooting air as she breathed. When the next contraction came, he said, “Push!”

 

Mom and I pulled back on Monaavi’s feet, her face wrenched up with exertion, eyes squeezed tightly shut as tears rolled down her temples and she grunted out her push as I counted. This process of pushing and relaxing went on for about twenty minutes. My stomach hurt so bad, it felt like I was in labor with her. I was exhausted and I wanted to cry thinking about what Monaavi was feeling: she probably felt a thousand times worse!

 

I continued to wipe her face with a cloth and give her ice chips in between contractions and my beautiful little wife never cried once. She was in a zone and totally focused on delivering her babies with a courage that made me feel like such a child for internally complaining about my physical state.

 

After forty-five minutes of pushing, I saw Monaavi’s vaginal opening begin to spread: first the size of a golf ball then progressing to a tennis ball. After a few more contractions, I could see a small black spot of wet, matted black hair appear then disappear as her contraction receded.

 

About ten minutes later, I saw my daughter’s head start to emerge. Her head came out face down and once her head was out to the neck, Dr Simpson, working with calm lightning speed, stuck his finger under her neck and pulled the cord out; unwrapping it from around her neck. My God, the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck!

 

 He then turned her face up and I could see her face scrunched up with her eyes tightly closed in a grimace. He suctioned out her nose, mouth and throat. Then as Monaavi’s contraction started again, he began to tilt her head downward as her top shoulder emerged. Once out, he tilted her up as her lower shoulder emerged. Once Cinny’s shoulders were out, he gently pulled her out to her hips. She began crying to beat the band once her chest expanded to take her first breath. When Dr. Simpson pulled her hips out, she kind of just squirted out into his cradling arms kicking, flailing and crying loudly.

 

When Monaavi heard Cinny cry for the first time she gave a loud panted laugh and said, “Praise God! I have brought forth life!”

 

Everyone was crying and laughing at the same time. I breathed in a huge breath of relief as he clamped off the cord. Miko handed me a pair of scissors and said, “Here, Papa, cut the cord.”

 

With shaking hands, I cut the cord and now my daughter was free. She squirmed, kicked and cried out at the top of her tiny lungs as she was handed off to Miko and whisked to a warming table next to the bed where she was given the Apgar test: nine at one minute and a ten after five minutes I might add.

 

I wanted to desperately see her but Lizzy was waiting to make her arrival. Monaavi’s contractions began again and Dr. Simpson asked her, “Well, Mama, shall we proceed and get her sister out?”

 

With renewed vigor at having delivered Cinny, Monaavi smiled and hooted, “I’m ready!”

 

Dr, Simpson put his hand inside Monaavi and said, “She’s breech: she’ll come out feet first.”

 

This was the reverse of Cinny’s. I saw her tiny toes poke out and Dr. Simpson gently took both of her feet and gently pulled. First her calves then her thighs appeared. He gently pulled again and her hips emerged. Then slowly, Dr. Simpson began pulling little Liz out to her armpits. With gentle firmness, he gave Lizzy’s legs another pull and she squirted out with her hands above her head. It looked like she came out as if watching a dive into the water in reverse. As he cradled her in his lap he suctioned out her nose and mouth and she too began to scream bloody murder as she kicked and squirmed. She too was handed off to another nurse to an awaiting warmer. Her Apgar results were the same as Cinny’s.

 

When Monaavi heard Liz cry, she slumped back on the bed sobbing in joy, exhausted from her ordeal. Mom and I put her feet back down in the stirrups and heaved a sigh of relief, crying at the sound of two screaming girls. I enfolded Monaavi’s face in my arms and kissed her tenderly as we both cried at becoming new parents.

 

Miko brought Cinny over and placed her on Monaavi’s chest. She was absolutely beautiful! She had a full head of blue-black curly hair, huge dark brown eyes with Monaavi’s small ears. She had Monaavi’s beauty mark in the same spot under her left ear. Her complexion was just a tad darker than Monaavi’s from what I could tell because she was a light pink, alert and looking around.

 

Dad had set the camera down and was now in the sitting room crying in the chair. Monaavi pulled the top of her gown down and put Cinny to breast and she immediately began to suckle.

 

Priya and Leeya came to stand next to the bed crying and stroked Cinny’s body as she nursed. We giggled when the other nurse brought Lizzy over and we laughed as Monaavi tried to reposition Cinny so she could nurse both girls at the same time. After a few shuffles, both girls were content and sucking languidly. Lizzy was identical to Cinny except her birthmark was under her right ear. Miko commented, “They may be mirror twins.”

 

Monaavi asked puzzled, “What are mirror twins?”

 

“They’re twins,” Miko explained, “that are a mirror image of each other. Like with the birthmarks, one may be right-handed while the other is left. When they’re older, if you set them facing each other, they would be like a mirror reflection of the other.”

 

“At least,” Dr. Simpson commented with a chuckle as she finished sewing a slight tear on Monaavi’s vaginal opening, “you can immediately tell the two apart!”

 

After the dust settled, we learned the girl’s statistics: Cinny was nine and seven-eighths inches long and weighed five pound four ounces while Lizzy was ten inches exactly and weighed five pounds six ounces being born nine minutes apart. Dr. Simpson said they’d keep the girls in the hospital for about a week at the most and monitor them. Being delivered at thirty-seven weeks, they were considered full term but they wanted to observe their breathing, feeding and bowel movements before letting them go home.

 

After nursing about ten minutes, both babies were asleep and everyone took turns holding the tiny, miniature girls and tenderly showering them with butterfly kisses. I silently cried as I held Cinny in my arms. She was so very tiny she could practically fit in my one hand. I watched her make funny faces as she slept, in awe at the miracle of bringing this new life into the world was the most humbling of experiences. Seeing this tiny child, her tiny fingers with fingernails no bigger than the “O” on a computer screen made me realize then, there is a living God. Only God could fashion something this miraculous, this beautiful with such perfection! 

 

For some reason, Monaavi had a craving for chocolate cake after her ordeal. Priya and Leeya went to the cafeteria to oblige their sister’s craving. Mom was holding Monaavi thanking her for bringing Cinny and Liz’s memory to life. It was a very moving and heartfelt moment.

 

Dad was totally overcome with emotion crying as we hugged. We kept the babies for about another hour taking turns holding them before the nurses took them to the nursery for a bath and a check-up. As they were wheeling Monaavi to her room with everyone in tow, Miko said that once Monaavi was in her room and the girls were finished in the nursery, they’d bring the babies back and they could remain with her in her room.

 

It was now almost one am when Monaavi got settled into her room. Although not wanting to leave, Mom and Dad told Priya and Leeya that they should go and let Monaavi rest. With tearful goodnights, everyone gave Monaavi their salaams and kisses goodnight and left.

 

The night nurse, Pamela, brought our squeaky clean, pink little sleeping angels back about two am. She told us that the girls might be able to go home in a couple of days and that they were doing great. She asked me if I had car seats and I replied, “Oops, forgot all about ‘em. No I haven’t purchased them yet.”

 

“Well,” she informed us, “you’d better get them because by law, we can’t let the babies leave unless you have an approved car seat for each child and its installation has been checked and verified by a nurse. Sorry but that’s the law.”

 

Looking at Monaavi I sighed and said, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I forgot all about them.”

 

“That’s okay,” she encouraged, “just call Mom in the morning and she can pick them up and bring them tomorrow when she visits.”

 

I lay down on the sofa next to Monaavi’s bed (I got kicked out of her bed by the nurse) as Monaavi and our daughters slept and fell off to sleep exhausted.

 

At four that morning, Lizzy woke up crying, demanding to be fed. Like peas in a pod, Cinny made her voice heard about a minute later and Monaavi had one child at each breast sucking greedily.

 

About ten am, a lactation specialist came in and instructed Monaavi on the finer points of breastfeeding while I went and got some breakfast. I called Mom and she said she’d pick up the car seats without any problem and that they’d be in later. We filled out all the forms for the birth certificates and social security cards about eleven. We also ordered the hospital photos of the girls.

 

Mom, Priya and Leeya arrived about noon, just as they were bringing Monaavi’s lunch. I left the women to kibitz while I took Mom’s car keys, retrieved the car seats from Mom’s car and transferred them to mine. She’d bought each of them top of the line Eddie Bauer seats.

 

Returning to the room, Priya gave me a change of clothes and a shaving bag. I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself up with a shave, sponge bath and changed clothes.

 

Unless the babies were hungry, they slept through everything! Priya, Leeya and Mom took turns holding, fondling and toying with them as they slept and they just made faces.

 

Later that night, Monaavi developed a slight fever, so she stayed in the hospital an additional two days. On the third day, Dr. Simpson came in about nine am and said, “Well, the babies have had their ear tests, physicals and Hepatitis vaccines and you can take them home today. Make an appointment with your pediatrician and then I want to see you in six weeks. Good luck with the twins: you’ll need it!”

 

He said goodbye and soon a nurse came in with Monaavi’s discharge slip and instructions. I went and buckled the car seats in the back seat and returned to the room. I called Mom and told her we’d be home around eleven. We changed the girls’ diapers and as Monaavi got dressed I dressed each of my little angels in pretty little frilly dresses with matching booties Mom had brought and we were soon ready to go. We waited about ten minutes for a nurse to escort us out: Monaavi in a wheelchair and me pushing one of the bassinets with another nurse pushing the other.

 

The valet brought the car around and I gave him a fifty. I started to pick up Cinny when the nurse stopped me and said, “No, no. Not so fast, I’ve got to verify you’re the babies’ real parents first.”

 

She checked the ankle bands on both girls, checked Monaavi’s bracelet and finally mine saying, “Now you can put your daughters in the car.”

 

I took Cinny from her basinet, buckled her in and checked the belt tightness: good – two fingers worth of slack. I next did the same with Lizzy as the nurse checked everything with Cinny. After getting the thumbs up from the nurse, she politely said good luck, goodbye and left. I helped Monaavi into the car and we headed for home.

 

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The next two weeks were exhausting. Sleepless nights and feedings, dirty diapers, dirty clothes, baths: all I wanted to do was sleep! With Mom, Priya and Leeya helping it was still a chore taking care of twins: how does one woman with a husband do it?

 

Leeya was the one that impressed me the most. Single-handedly, she quietly took over almost total care of Tina without a word. It was as if she just knew what had to be done and that Tina needed our care also. I watched her as she cared for our older daughter and wept silently with pride at Leeya’s innate ability to mother a child only a year and a half younger than she. I also felt suddenly guilty by the fact that simply because we now had two more children to care for, Tina needed me — us — just as much as Cinny or Lizzy.

 

After about three weeks, the twins got into a scheduled routine and slept at night from about eleven to four am: whew! Monaavi just seemed to glow as she cradled one, sometimes both girls in her arms. She began exercising and doing her Kegels, wanting to regain her pre-pregnancy figure except now with a 34C bustline.

 

About two months after the twins were born, Priya and I talked one evening and she suddenly started to cry. I asked her what was wrong and at first, she wouldn’t say. Finally after some sweet cajoling, I coaxed it out of her.

 

Priya started with, “I’m overjoyed by the fact that we now have Cinny and Lizzy and that Monaavi’s dream of becoming a mother has come true. It’s just that I’m a little sad that I couldn’t have borne your first child.”

 

I felt crushed! In empathy I replied, “I kind of had the same feeling when Monaavi got pregnant, but you told me that was what you wanted. I acquiesced and did as you asked. Do you now regret it?”

 

“No,” Priya answered, “I truly believe that we, including me, made the right decision. Will you love my brown baby as much as you love Cinny and Lizzy?”

 

“Oh, Priya!” I sighed, “I fell in love with your chocolate complexion and you’re my soul mate. I would love our child as much as I love all my children: brown or white! I’ve always dreamed of a tiny chocolate colored little girl just like you.”

 

“Really?” Priya asked surprised. “You really mean that?”

 

Kissing her I assured her, “With all my heart!”

 

“What if it’s a boy?” she asked.

 

“He’ll be more handsome that Denzel Washington.” I replied.

 

“(Sniffle) I love you, Sean!” my love said sweetly, “Thank you. Now, I can wait in peace without worry. As soon as my studies are finished, I want to get pregnant.”

 

“Whenever you’re ready, Sweetheart,” I promised, “just say the word. In the meantime, we can have some fun practicing.”

 

“Letch,” she giggled.

 

“Harlot,” I retorted.

 

After some necking and playful cuddling, everything seemed back to normal.

 

_______________________________

 

Monaavi stuck close to home because she had become a walking human Guernsey cow. Besides feeding, she was also pumping and if she didn’t express, she’d leak all down the front of her blouse. On one particular night, she was crying in bed and Priya heard her. It was Leeya’s night and Priya knocked on my door and asked me to come to Monaavi’s room.

 

Upon seeing Monaavi crying, I asked her what was wrong. She said her breasts were engorged and the pain was almost unbearable. I felt her breasts and they were as rock hard as an over pressurized basketball and very hot to the touch.

 

She said that pumping doesn’t express milk completely like a suckling baby and that with the babies just being fed an hour ago, she wanted me to suckle and relieve her distress.

 

Priya and Leeya began to giggle when Mom walked in and asked what was wrong. After the explanation, Mom quipped, “A daddy’s job is never done. Help her out; it’s far better than changing a shitty diaper.”

 

She turned with a chuckle and left. Priya and Leeya stood with covered mouths giggling. Monaavi had a cute smirk on her face and asked like a little girl, “Please?”

 

“Well,” Priya asked, “are you gonna do it or not?”

 

“What,” I asked in return, “with an audience?”

 

“Oh,” Leeya quipped as she nudged Priya, “the letch is shy. I’d let you suck my milk — if I had any (Giggle).”

 

“Me too,” Priya added.

 

Having the uncanny feeling this was going to become a tradition I turned to look at Monaavi. She smiled coyly and pulled the sheet down and exposed her red-hot melons.

 

Well, let me tell you; if you think getting milk from a granite hard breast is easy, you’ve got another thing coming! I put my mouth over her entire areola and began to lightly suck: nothing.

 

I sucked harder: still nothing.

 

I sucked in even harder…

 

“Ow!” Monaavi cried out as she pulled away, “What are you trying to do, eat my nipple?”

 

“What?” I asked confused, “You’re supposed to suck aren’t you?”

 

“No silly” Mommy instructed, “Geez, even a newborn baby knows that. Gently put your lips around the areola and compress it with your lips as you suck. Squeezing the areola, drawing it out and sucking at the same time expresses the milk out. Now don’t be so rough, they’re tender.”

 

Putting my thumb in my mouth I playfully said, “Yeth, Mommy.”

 

Monaavi cooed as she cupped her breast, “That’s a good boy, come here and make Mommy feel better.”

 

I lowered my mouth to the task and did as instructed. Surprisingly it worked but not much milk came out. It took me a couple of minutes to get the technique and timing down but soon I was drinking like a suckling pig but it was a lot of work. I had to stop several times because my mouth was getting sore. Monaavi would squeeze her breast in different spots to force the milk from the restricted milk ducts as I sucked and her breast started to soften.

 

Leeya came over and said, “Let me try. What does it taste like? I wanna taste.”

 

“No!” Monaavi shot back, “You’re not sucking my breast! Are you crazy?”

 

“Why not?” Leeya asked. “I’m thirsty and you said you’d be my mommy… Mommy.”

 

“Leeya,” Monaavi chided, “you’re not my husband and you’re pushing the limits here a little, aren’t you?”

 

“Gosh,” Leeya said shyly, “all I wanted was a taste.”

 

“Here,” Monaavi offered.

 

I released my mouth and Monaavi manually squeezed out some onto her finger. She put it to Leeya’s mouth and Leeya sucked in Monaavi’s finger, smacking her lips as she sampled.

 

Priya asked, “What’s it taste like, Leeya?”

 

“It’s sweet,” Leeya said with a smile. “Can I have some more?”

 

“No you can’t have some more,” Monaavi scolded “Oh alright, come here.”

 

Leeya thought Monaavi was going to offer her her breast but as she leaned in, Monaavi said, “Open your mouth.”

 

“Leeya obeyed and Monaavi gave her squirt right in the mouth and said, “There, that’s it!”

 

Leeya thanked her softly and said, “It really is sweet.”

 

Priya wanted in the act and said, “My turn please.”

 

Monaavi shook her head, sighed then said, “Okay, here, just one taste.”

 

Priya sampled the fluid in her mouth and blushed saying, “It is sweet; it tastes like a mother’s love.”

 

Monaavi blushed then recovering asked jokingly, “Alright now, the breast milk tasting party is over. Now can I get some relief in peace?”

 

Giggling, the girls left me to feast in peace. I was put off by the idea when Monaavi first asked me to do this, but it somehow made me feel closer to her. It ended up being a very moving experience for me when I started on her other breast as she lovingly cradled my head in her arms.

 

When I finished, I looked up at her and she was crying.  She smiled softly and whispered, “I love you, Sean! With my whole heart and soul, I love you!”

 

I kissed her tenderly and softly replied, “I’m so grateful you let me do this for you. Words cannot express what you mean to me.”

 

“You didn’t say it with words,” she answered sweetly, “I have two beautiful daughters to prove it. Now go, go to Leeya and again, thank you.”

 

“My pleasure, Mommy,” I replied lovingly.

 

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We really wanted to stay for the holidays but Monaavi was concerned for Attiya and wanted to return to India. When I tried to get reservations for five, there weren’t any flights open until January. Dad arranged for a charter jet and we readied to leave the first week in November.

 

Mom and Dad said they’d fly over and spend the holidays with us. Mom said, “There’s no way I’m missing my grandbabies first Thanksgiving and Christmas: not on your life!”

 

On the third of November we took off, flying back to India. We said our tearful goodbyes and Mom was tearfully reluctant to let her little princesses go. As we lifted off into the clouds, I remembered proposing to Monaavi on Thanksgiving night almost a year ago and was silently amazed.

 

God, I thought to myself as I looked at my two sleeping angels, The last time we were flying back to India, Emmy was with us with a hope of marriage. This past year I have endured the pain of her death… and God’s promised blessings of healing with the miracle of life.