Old, Pale, and Fragile, The Night Nurse introduced herself by writing her name on the white board in Aminah’s room. She walked right over to Aminah and began her routine vitals check. She looked up at me and smiled. “How is she doing today?” The night nurse asked. “She is the same as the day before”, I replied. I immediately walked over to twin Akilah crying for milk in her car seat. I carefully picked Akilah up and out of her car seat and began to playfully bounce her around while pacing the floor of Aminah’s room. The walking around Aminah’s room was not pleasing twin Akilah’s cries. Walking over to the single couch sitting in the corner of the room I began to prop Akilah for a feeding. As I began to pull my breast out to feed, I noticed the nurse pulling the curtain surrounding me, allowing me privacy while breast-feeding. Apart of me felt helpless, unable to feed both of my babies at the same time as I planned to before the birth of them both. I was feeling disconnected from Aminah. Our bond was breaking right before my eyes. I tried to relieve my thoughts my stress. I noticed the more I worried the less milk my body was able to produce. Although Aminah was in a bad situation I still breastfed her. I pumped milk heavily the same milk as Akilah and better yet she deserved what all my children had and that was breast milk. The night nurse would always try to peruse me to just formula feed her. I refused. The night nurse would constantly commend me for my strength however I considered it my role as a mother. As I finished feeding twin Akilah I walked over to twin Aminah I noticed she had been sponge cleaned, new onesie, bandages, and her curly hair slicked down. I thanked the nurse for doing the one job I could not do, give my daughter her first bath. My heart broke into pieces while holding Twin Akilah. The night nurse excused herself and told me if I needed anything to give her a buzz. I smiled; she walked out and shut the door behind her. Still holding Akilah I walked over to Aminah’s side and ran my fingers through her curly hair, purposely messing up the slick, pressed look the nurse gave her. I laughed and told Aminah, Does she not know your hair is naturally curly not straight?” My hands grazed her little arms and fingers. All the tubes scared me. All I wanted to do was hold her but that task had to be approved and much help was going to be needed, so, I just stood there and looked at her perfect body wishing she could come home with me.
The Midwife From Hell