by Lance Berry
Chapter 3
The introduction of Peter into the family went far better than Mark expected. The girls fell in love with him almost instantly, and took turns holding him in the ’Kar ride on the way home. Mark had to remind Sara that the baby wasn’t a toy of course, and instructed her how to safely hold him. She got the hang of it quickly enough, and held him close whenever possible.
Kim Tan and her husband were an immense help to Mark in setting up preparations for Gloria’s funeral. The ceremony was held on the grounds of a small cemetery on the north quadrant of the base, and at Mark’s request to the base security commandant, she was given a twenty-one gun salute. Although the cemetery was not used as much anymore—most military posted to the base, and some civilians, chose to have their bodies cast into space—Mark decided it would be best to have Gloria’s body close by, so the girls could visit when they wanted.
The period of adjustment for the Elliot family was difficult, at first: Mara still attended classes at the Citadel on Earth, while Mark had to split his time between tending to his two youngest and eventually returning to work. His workload only increased when he was promoted to full captain in charge of Alpha Base security, and so he hired a nanny service to watch over Sara and Peter while he was out.
Several months passed, and Mara finally returned home after receiving a three-day pass from school in recognition for her outstanding grades. Mark had managed to adjust his schedule so that he was able to have weekends off, and so he was at home finally packing up Gloria’s personal things in their bedroom, when Mara came to speak to him.
“Dad, I need to talk with you.”
“Where’re the kids?”
“They’re both asleep. Peter’s in his crib.”
Mark nodded in acceptance, and continued to pack boxes as he replied, “What’s up, princess?”
Mara exhaled lightly. She had prepared this speech all the way from Earth, but it was a daunting task to say it aloud to her father. “I’ve decided I need to take time off from school. To help you with the kids.”
“Absolutely not,” he replied automatically, continuing to stuff things away without missing a beat. “Your education’s far too important—”
“I’ve already done it.”
Mark had one of Gloria’s hair combs in one hand, a broken watch of hers that he’d always promised to get fixed but never got around to doing it, in the other. He froze in place, staring at them impotently. He slowly turned his head toward his daughter, his expression one of utter disbelief. “What—?”
“Hear me out,” Mara said, and sat on the far corner of the bed. “Dad, you’re stressed out. I’ve seen it in your face, I’ve read it in between the lines of the e-mails you’ve sent me at school. Heck, you’ve even lost a couple of pounds, I can tell just by looking at you!”
“I’m slimming down,” Mark said curtly, and half-laid, half-dropped the watch and brush into a box. “I’m getting toned, and am in better shape than I was at least two years ago.”
“Oh, please,” Mara said derisively. “I love you Dad, but I’m not going to let you fool yourself, or let you push yourself into an early grave looking after all of us! Between your job as base S.C.O., making sure Sara does well in kindergarten and tending to Peter on weekends, you’re getting drained. You need help and I’m staying here to see that you get it.”
Mark placed his hands on his waist as he looked at his daughter in amazement. “And you just think that’s all there is to it, do you?”
Mara got to her feet, walked around the bed to stand before him and crossed her arms defiantly. “Yes. It is.”
“And what about school? You wanted to be a soldier.”
“The war’s not going anywhere, last time I checked.”
“You need an education, Mara.”
“I’ll get one when the time is right. When the kids are a little older, and you don’t need my help.” She nodded certainly. “I will, Dad. I promise.”
Mark started to shake his head, but paused. His lips curled together on one side and his eyes narrowed as he looked upon his daughter in newfound appreciation. “Your mother was the only person outside of a superior officer who could ever stand up to me and win an argument. You are definitely every bit her daughter. And the Citadel’s alright with this? You’ve explained the situation to them?”
“I can retain all my credits, and re-enter anytime. You can check with the headmistress, Ms. Beason.”
“I will,” he promised. “But…I appreciate your intentions, honey. Welcome home.”
Chapter 4
“So you say he doesn’t take the formula until he’s so hungry he can’t stand to wait?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Mara said anxiously, greatly worried over Peter’s condition. Shortly after he was born, it became apparent that the infant did not take well to formula, and would cry for hours before giving in to it. Mara had told her father, who in turn asked her to take the child to the doctor as his duties didn’t leave him enough time. It had been a good thing for Mara to stay at home after all, she once reflected, as her father had come to rely on her more and more to take care of her siblings, as well as to carry out the household chores and cooking. But this problem with Peter worried her a great deal, and she was concerned that if this were a serious medical issue, it might be more than she could deal with. She took the infant to a pediatrician named Doctor Tallworth, who was reputed to be exceptional at treating infants and slightly older children. Mara left Sara and Peter’s stroller out in the waiting room with the receptionist, who promised to keep an eye on them both.
Doctor Tallworth—a bespectacled, broad-shouldered man who reminded Mara somewhat of Clark Kent—curled his lips downward as he ran a medical scanner across the sniffling baby’s stomach. “Your family’s medical history shows that your mother had been given a medical inhibitor once called dilauinar.”
“Yes,” Mara nodded. “When she was going into labor with my sister on a shuttle coming into the base. The doctor used it to hold off her contractions until they could get her to the hospital.”
Tallworth nodded and pulled the scanner away from Peter, examining its findings. “That was a bit of a mistake. Dilauinar can have a cumulative effect on the human circulatory system, which can be passed down from generation to generation. In this case, it’s made your brother slightly allergic to standard infant formulas.”
Mara’s eyes widened in apprehension. “Well…well… what can we do? He’s got to eat!”
“For all infants, breast milk is best. And of course, like a blood transfusion, a genetic match is more harmonious to the person receiving it. Problem is, with your mother deceased, he doesn’t have anyone to do this for him. Now, I can recommend a couple of options, but I should really be talking to your father about them.”
Mara glanced down at Peter, who seemed to be looking at her needfully, his eyes threatening to well with tears once more.
She gently rubbed a thumb across his cheek and looked back at Tallworth. “I’m in charge. What are the options?”
Tallworth shook his head. “How old are you again, Miss
Elliot?”
“I’m eighteen. I’ve been a legal adult for a year. Tell me what the options are.”
Tallworth sighed. “All right. First off, we can give you a hormone extract which you would mix with Peter’s formula. It simulates breast milk as close as medical science can get, but he still might not take it, then we’re back to square one.”
“Okay,” Mara said uncertainly, not liking that choice. “What else?”
“You can have your father seek out a service which provides wet nurses—trained women who nurse children who aren’t their own. These services are rare nowadays, and are almost exclusively located on Earth. They’re very costly, and the services are usually reserved only for orphanages. Even with your father’s military standing, he’ll probably have to be put on a waiting list.”
Mara closed her eyes, feeling very near the verge of defeat.
�
��Anything else—?”
“There’s only one last option to counteract the effects of the dilauinar and get your brother’s system regulated. This is something I think you should talk to your father about. I can prescribe a hormone pill which you can take. Since you’re the firstborn and weren’t subjected to dilauinar, you’re the closest pure genetic match to your mother. The hormone will allow you to lactate, and you can breastfeed your brother.”
“Eeeww,” Mara said reflexively.
“I know, I know,” Tallworth said with a nod. “It sounds strange, and something that should definitely be done in the privacy of your home. This is something I would never recommend, except your family’s case history is so unique. If people knew you were doing this, there would definitely be a stigma attached. But if you love your brother, this might be the only way.”
Mara considered it, rejected the idea, then considered it again. None of the other options sounded feasible, and she certainly didn’t want Peter to starve to death. And she did love him immensely…it wouldn’t be that great a sacrifice to make. “So…how would this work?”
Tallworth shrugged. “It’s a simple pill. When your brother needs to feed, you take it ten minutes before you nurse him. It works its way into the system very quickly, and the effects hold for twenty-four hours per pill, so if he needs more than one feeding in a day—and being a newborn, he certainly does— you’ll be able to do it. There are also compounds within the medicine which will reduce his need to feed as many times a day as a standard newborn, but will still enable him to gain a healthy and normal body weight.”
“Okay…so do you give me a prescription for it, or—?”
Tallworth exhaled lightly. “That’s the tricky part. See, I could ordinarily put the prescription in your mother’s name, but any pharmacy’s computer system will automatically pull up your mother as being deceased. If I put it in your name, yes, you’re of legal age…but you’d have to be careful of where you pick up the medicine, lest people you know happen to find out and there goes the stigma.”
“So what do I do?”
“Relax,” Tallworth said, gently waving her off as he headed to a nearby cabinet. He opened it, briefly searched around, and brought out a small white pill bottle. He went back to Mara, opened it and popped one into her hand. “This is the medicine, it’s called lactastisis. When’s the last time you tried to feed your brother?”
“About an hour before we came here.”
“You should take this and try it now. He looks hungry to me. I’ll leave you alone in here, you can feed him.”
Mara nodded slowly, staring at the little pink pill. She looked back to Tallworth, and felt herself blush. “I…don’t know how to feed him.”
Tallworth seemed unfazed by this, and calmly explained in detail how to position the infant, what to do if he began suckling the wrong way, and how and why to use both breasts to feed him. He gave her a cup of water to take the pill with and closed the door firmly behind him as he stepped out.
Mara took the pill, and the ten minute wait seemed to take forever as Peter had begun to snuffle once more, then cry outright. Finally, Mara felt a slight rush to her head, which according to Tallworth, meant the pill was taking effect. She swore at herself for wearing a pullover sweater, and had to take it off entirely. She slipped one arm out of her bra, releasing her left breast. She picked up Peter and positioned his entire body to face her, as Tallworth instructed. The baby stopped crying for a second as his eyes focused on his older sister, who kissed him on the forehead. “We’re keeping this just between us, right? Right?”
The baby almost chuckled, but then began to cry again.
Taking a deep breath, Mara brought him forward, tickling his lower lip as Tallworth had said. When Peter’s mouth opened, she guided it to the areola, and let him nurse.
It went more smoothly than she had expected, and Peter took to it as if he were truly her own son. She was surprised to feel a small swell of pride rather than ickiness, and kissed him lovingly on the top of his head. The baby was incredibly hungry, and it wasn’t long before she had to burp him and switch breasts. Just as she had finished repositioning him, there was a quick rap on the door and Tallworth entered, a genial smile on his face. “How’s it going?”
Mara gasped in surprise and tried to pull up her bra, which she had to lower fully in order to set Peter up with her other breast. But it was too awkward to try to raise it up and safely cup the baby to her.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…I’m a doctor, remember?” Tallworth said hurriedly. “Trust me…there’s absolutely nothing you have that I haven’t seen on dozens of young ladies before.”
Mara immediately felt an inexplicable rush of shame, but Tallworth knelt in front of her and gently swiped a tear away as it started to fall. “It’s okay, Mara…I just came in to see how you’re doing with him. It’s alright. Okay?”
Mara huffed, her breath coming in short pants a moment as she composed herself. Finally she nodded, and was able to meet his gaze. Tallworth examined her face closely a moment, then shifted his gaze to Peter. “He seems to be taking it well.
How do you feel?”
Mara gulped lightly. “Fine. Good.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. It feels good to breastfeed him, yes?” Mara nodded slowly.
“It’s natural. It comes with motherhood. I’m going to give you what pills I have, and then we’ll figure out how to keep you with it until he’s able to be weaned onto standard milk. He’s a newborn, so I know you and your father have been up with him a lot, haven’t you?”
Mara shook her head. “My father’s not around a lot. But
I’m home with him and Sara. Peter seems to always be hungry.”
“Par for the course. He’s going to have to feed anywhere from six to twelve times a day. And now that he’s finally tasted breast milk, believe me, he’ll want it almost steadily.”
Tallworth picked up the bottle of lactastisis from the counter and glanced at its content label on the rear. “What cup size are you, by the way?”
Mara looked at him curiously. “Why?”
“When a woman lactates, her cup size usually increases.
This medicine is making you lactate artificially, but it sometimes has the same effect. You should probably look into buying something larger for yourself, in a standard nursing type. And bra pads, to protect against and hide excess moisture. If your father notices you filling out, attribute it to puberty.”
“Okay,” Mara answered softly. So there was the unspoken agreement: she would not tell her father about this arrangement after all. It was probably better this way, as he might not understand fully why she would go this route.
Tallworth turned back to her and set the bottle on top of her sweater. “I’ll write a list of different ways you can cope with tenderness or soreness of your breasts, if you have any. If there are complications of any sort, let me know right away.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” he said, and began writing his list as he kept an eye on her to make sure the process with Peter went smoothly.
Mara had never lied to her father before in her life, but she was amazed how quickly she could adapt to the art of dissembling. She told him that Doctor Tallworth had given her pills with which to supplement Peter’s formula, and when Mark asked to see them, she said a silent, thankful prayer that he believed her lie that the bottle was an old one, and that was why part of the wrapper listing its actual function was somewhat torn off.
The actual feeding of Peter was tricky when Mark was around. He had automatically relinquished the duty to Mara, as he had most practical decisions in the home. So when she told him that Peter just responded better to being fed by her in private, he made no argument of it. When it came time for his
