Even IF she felt like crap when she was tasked to do it.
Naturally, her daughter seemed to feel the same way that she did, reflected in the frog like scowl of her face and the horribly angry line between her brows. The baby twisted, a distinct lack of interest as she shifted in her arms, a little confused when faced with a human nipple that she was supposed to suck.
Nipple confusion. With Amber's disappearance, Rumi had already long found an equivalent substitute in plastic bottles and powdered milk. And even if Amber's nipples had long turned a darker, deeper rose just so her almost blind daughter could take aim and fire Rumi wasn't the least bit interested in the target.
The nurse seemed determined to shove Amber's nipple in her daughter's face. They were governed by experience and education, and were unrelentingly certain that the child would seek for her nipple like a missile towards the enemy. Experience that just made Amber feel a hundred times worse when they failed more than once.
The professionals struggled with Rumi's head and her boobs, attempted bumps that barely worked. The bump of dusky rose upon cheeks only resulted in an angry gurgle and then a wail for the bottle. She didn't want Amber's flat useless nips when she could have chewy plastic.
Frustration.
They gave up when Rumi finally latched in all the wrong ways, a chomp of gum upon Amber sensitive nipple that had her rearing back with horror. A yelp escaped her lips as pain stabbed her in the chest and radiated to her armpits. Reflex had her jostling Rumi out of her already pretty damn uncomfortable bed—Amber's unresponsive stick like arms.
Yet again the baby squalled, frustrated and more furious than ever. And Amber's expression fell as her hand rubbed at the bits of her that felt as if they were on the verge of breaking. It was like a slam of a door over her fingers, only her fingers were her nipples and the door was the gummy strength of her baby's mouth.
The rejection from Rumi stung more than it should.
It burned.
"You'll be fine, mama," the nurses soothed, "baby will learn how to latch properly soon, and your breasts will get used to the feeling." It seemed that her nipples just had to learn to withstand the pain of it all and grow as calloused as they could be.
"What if she doesn't?" Amber had echoed, cream applied to her aching nipples with gentle fingers.
"There's formula, if you can accept it. But it'll be better for the baby if you can breastfeed."
It would be better, they said. Better. Better. Better. Because she would be on her way to becoming a shitty mother the moment she failed in producing milk. They told her to get into the task of producing more colostrum, yellow thick substance that was coined liquid gold to her child.
But even that came in miniscule droplets that frothed at the tips. It hurt to squeeze, hurt to pump, and she did both until her breasts were red and sore because she had to or else her factory might just scream 'enough is enough'. And when she wasn't squeezing, her child would attempt to tear out to what little she could give in all of the most painful ways possible.
It isn't normal for a latch to hurt, the nurses said. It will be fine soon.
But it hurt all the time.
Liars. She briefly wondered if the nurses were just reciting knowledge from books written by uneducated men. She'd bite back sobs during each attempted feeding, and when milk finally did come in greater dribbles thanks to her consistent pumping through the night. It was too little to fill Rumi's tummy.
In response, Rumi bit so hard that her breasts grew cracked and blood seeped. Amber dreaded feeding her, the child that seemed more determined to scream into her breasts than eat, not interested in bloodied milk. Amber wouldn't blame her.
Amber hated feeding her, because she was always on the verge of tears from the pain.
And Rumi seemed to hate it just as much with the mere drops of red stained watery liquid she could give her. And her baby grew tired and angry with each attempt, too sleepy to eat at the end of it.
Her body didn't seem to be on the same page when it came to feeding her child.
So it was usually with a disappointing cluck and a disapproving sigh, did Rumi leave her nipples to be offered a big heavy dose of formula milk from the hospital. A job that her soulmates happily offered to do.
"It's not good for the baby, isn't it?" Sieon had said out loud later as he bounced Rumi in his arms as she drank. "My grandmother said that babies should drink breastmilk for their health, they get a better immune system."
"It protects against infection and other diseases," Casper waved his phone in the air, and Amber had the distinct urge to punch it. "We should try to give her that."
"It's good for the brain?" Oliver frowned as he glared at the pamphlet that sprouted positives of breast feeding. And in response, Amber squeezed at her breasts and the lack of it. Well, it seemed that without the blessed food of nature her child would be fated to lose her braincells.
"We've already neglected her prenatal care; we shouldn't cut corners when it comes to her development."
"That's what my mom said too!"
"But what if Amber isn't capable of producing more? It's been a few days..."
"Her body should know that it has to, right? Her body should know that she's a mother now."
"Hey," Ezra's voice was a slice through the air, a hand on her shoulder was a pause that had her breathing again. "If she can't produce enough milk, does it matter? She's been trying all night. I was raised on formula. It doesn't matter if she can't. The baby will live, and its brain will be fine. You're stressing her up."
There was a pause and then the eyes turned to her, they read the tension and stress in her face. And then bodies moved, hands reached and pity filled the room like gas popped from a canister. It was moments like this when Amber wanted nothing more than for things to go back to normal, to the days when their eyes just didn't feel like judgemental stabs upon her skin.
"Sorry Amber, I know it's hard..." Hikaru murmured, stroking her hair. "Your body hurts, doesn't it?" He held her closer, pulled her into his arms with a soft whisper. "My darling girl." He kissed her hair, still as loving as always, but yet his arms felt strange against her.
She didn't understand herself, not with the amount of help she was getting. There was no reason to be so frustrated over minute incidents, no reason to cry over something as simple as this. But God did the feeling of failure pile up high over her shoulders and weighed upon her conscience.
"It hurts a bit," she whispered than struggled through a smile. "Hurts to move. That's what I get for having my intestines pulled out. But I hate breastfeeding her more."
Her thoughts were depressing as fuck—mood as sour as the bile that thickened in her throat to the size of an apple. And the tears were everywhere; the desperate snot-filled warmth whenever the bullets were loaded in the water gun that was her respiratory system. But the sadness came in waves of desperately swallowed down tears.
But the Guilt. It kept her going.
"You can stop," there was a panicked smile from her Sieon. He felt bad for his words, she knew he did from the way he bounced from one foot to the next. "If it's too hard, it really doesn't matter what our parents say. I believe in science. After all, our parents wanted you to avoid baths for more than a week because it'll be bad for the body—"
"Surely, that's just superstition." The varying Asian customs from their different cultures were just other things that Amber had to remember to abide by.
"They're afraid you'll catch a cold, but we can blow dry your hair when you take a bath so that's fine. You'll have to agree that the no visitors rule does make sense...Wouldn't want guests spewing germs on Rumi."
"And I can't leave the house..."
"No, try not to stay outdoors for too long..." JieMi's lips quirked. "Not for a month at least."
A rule that their cultures all shared from fears of peril from the weather, the disease harbouring stranger and possible bad luck from the outdoors. Casper's lips had twitched as he stepped forward with a suggestion.
"Would you like to go to a postpartum centre instead?" he offered.
They were like hotels for mothers, armed with nurses ready to care for the new born and spa like treatments to lull Amber into full health. It would be tempting if it didn't mean the possibility of being left alone in the centre. She'd much prefer it if they rented a home for her right next to the venue instead.
"It's expensive..." She echoed out.
"But you could make some friends...Other mothers. And it might feel like a holiday—"
She smiled; lips curled. "I-I don't know..."
She didn't like how the nurses, the doctors and the lactation consultants in the hospital that pushed for what they wanted, invading her personal space all night. She couldn't imagine staying at a place like this for a month, and the price tag for one of her status scared her.
This wasn't the time to spend with the instability of their finances.
"Maybe not...I'll be fine with just my Mom and a nanny."
They exchanged glances and Amber averted her eyes.
"It'll work out, I promise. The learning curve is just ridiculously steep." Casper reassured her, rubbing her shoulders. He took it as a sign to massage the knots from her back, his fingers pressing into the kinks that littered her skin from stress. "What you are feeling is perfectly normal, okay?"
Her lips quivered at his words as she sunk into his touch.
"I swear I panicked so bad when I didn't support her head the first time," MinJae laughed. "Thank God JieMi was there. I felt like a piece of shit when she cried like I just stabbed her with a pen."
"You should have seen me wearing her diapers, didn't know where to stick."
"We've just had a few more days than you to understand her, so don't beat yourself up, okay?" Oliver grinned, poking her cheeks. "We'll teach you what we know, and we'll learn everything else with you."
"B-but what about the tour?" Amber whispered. "It starts in a week."
Her eyes darted as her mind nudged her gently reminding her that the tour would last for more than half a year. But she shoved it down not wanting be worried, they promised to be there for her as much as they could. And she knew her soulmates would try their best to make things work. All families suffered with the concerns of work-life balance. Hers was no different.
"We've survived on lesser sleep," Ezra said, but there were purple bruises under his eyes and Amber's lips pursed with the knowledge that they were pulling all-nighters just to practice when they can. "You can take it easy. Don't push yourself if it's too tough, don't continue if it hurts too much. Your mom will be here soon for the month and you'll feel so much better with her help."
"Yeah." Her eyes grew warm. "I suck at this."
"That's fine, Momo." Hikaru kissed her fingers, and smiled through star-like eyes. "None of this is your fault okay? If the baby's fed, the baby's fed. I don't care if the lactation consultants think you have to breastfeed."
"It's their job, they need it to work," JieMi pointed out. "If no one gave a fuck they'll be fired."
"Right," she gave him a watery smile. "You're right." A shaky breath and then a sigh as she leaned against Casper's chest. "But I really, really suck at this." She whispered. A soft quake in her voice came along with a rush of sadness that she hadn't felt before. That feeling was new to her, too new.
"We all do."
"Of course, no one taught us how to care for a baby, we're all newbies here."
"We'll be fine. We can learn together!"
"Don't worry about a thing, we'll help you."
"If you started out absolutely amazing at all of this, I would be really, really sad."
"What the fuck does that mean JieMi?"
"I-I mean I would feel really inadequate? Because Rumi's still peeing out of all the diapers, I put on her."
"This isn't a competition dumbass. Ignore him baby, you know we love you right?"
"Of course." Her lips quirked.
But when Amber laid in bed that night after a failed attempt to feed Rumi, sleep did not come. Instead, she turned to the side and for some reason tears began to flow from her eyes. Crushing defeat filled her lungs until she was drowning from the inside.
Her second failure did not settle quietly in her bleeding heart.