Empty Arms

Poppy is 35 weeks old today. Look, isn't she beautiful?


I've lost the pep in my step. Tears spring up in my eyelids and I blink them away. When I'm smart, every meal includes coffee, not only to keep me awake, but also to inject some life back into this empty shell. Mostly, it just makes me feel jittery. But that could be the low blood sugar.

Walking by pamphlets displayed on the wall, "Heart Screening, Schedule Yours Today!" My heart is on a schedule. Hold and try to nurse Poppy at 9:00, noon, and 3:00. Turn off my heart while I pump, use the restroom, and eat something in the hours between. Go home. Light up at the sight of Rosemary lighting up for me. Figure out dinner, pump through the night, then start again the next day. This is getting old.


The variety in my day comes from choosing which restroom to use.

"It won't last forever," my Mom tells me over the phone. I know. That's the thought I pull my strength from. But it's 4:30 and Poppy is wide awake and actively rooting. This is a problem. It isn't one of her doctor decreed scheduled feeding times. As a mother who chooses to nurse on demand, it kills me. She was sleepy and did not eat at the previous three feedings that I struggled to give her (please just suck, baby, please), and here I see her, practically begging to have a nipple put in her wide mouth, and I'm not allowed to. I put my pinky finger in her mouth and gently stroke the tongue to help her learn how to coordinate her sucking while my heart shatters on the floor.

Senpai's boss gave him the day off today. I must admit I am jealous. I don't get days off from this. Looking forward to the day when I can bring my work home with me.