After Birth by Elisa Albert

Author:Elisa Albert [Albert, Elisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I bring cupcakes from the co-op.

He’s had, like, seven wet diapers and there’s no pink. And he slept for seven hours last night. It’s a miracle. Is this weird for you?

No. It’s great. Is that weird?

I was lying awake last night thinking is this weird?

But it’s not weird.

It’s not weird at all.

The thing is women have always done this, just not since formula and advertising were invented.

Which came first, formula or advertising?

Advertising. I don’t know.

I nurse while she pumps to encourage supply. She says something about it being difficult to get out when the weather’s so shitty and I say something like yeah, winter’s a shitty time to have a baby and she says something like it’s always kind of a shitty time to have a baby though isn’t it?

I hated the pump. Vile machine, real torture device, with its awful rat-a-tat wheeze. Mina absently rocks the empty vibrating bouncy chair with her foot, sips from a clay mug, stares out the window at the icy dark.

The rat-a-tat-rat-a-tat starts to sound like not-alone-not-alone-not-alone, and then it becomes I-don’t-know-I-don’t-know-I-don’t know, and soon it’s right-at-home-right-at-home-right-at-home. Then you-don’t-know-you-don’t-know-you-don’t-know.

Oh, I say. By the way. I love Muriel Rukeyser. I forgot.

Look what my sister sent, she says, almost three ounces bagged in the fridge, a really good sign, means she’s producing nicely. She holds up a swath of fabric. Floral pink. She reads from the tag. “Hooter Hider. To meet the needs of modern, active nursing moms.” It’s a burqa. This perfectly sums up my sister. And this.

Another contraption, designed to fit over the seat of a supermarket cart. So your baby never has to touch a supermarket cart. To protect your baby from the evils of supermarket carts. She balls them both up and stuffs them behind the couch.

I’m fond of this baby, her baby, the swirls of his fine black hair, the weight of him against me, newborn smell. Our baby.

I had no idea how fucked up this was going to be, she says.

Tell me about it, I say.

Why doesn’t anybody talk about this? I mean, how stupid do you have to be to worry about strangers seeing your tits in the wake of this?

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.