By the time the task is done, my mate and child are both worn out—Beh from the labor and the baby from her crying. I get them situated in the furs and bring Beh water and cold cooked grains. Beh makes mouth noises and points a finger toward the fire. I add some logs to it to make it blaze again, and Beh sighs and moves her head from side to side. She takes the cup of water I brought her and dips the edge of one of the leather pieces into it, then proceeds to wipe the streaks of blood and mucus from the baby’s face.
I find one of the little squares of cloth near the fire and notice the water-filled clay pot Beh set out earlier when she first started feeling pains. I bring it over along with the cloth. Beh smiles as I help her wipe down the baby with the warm water and then use the cloth to wash Beh’s legs and face.
Wanting to be sure Beh has everything she needs, I take meat from the fire and a cup full of nuts over to the sleeping furs and feed them to her as she tries to get the baby to suckle at her breast. It takes several tries, but eventually the baby’s tiny lips wrap around her mother’s nipple, and reflex takes over.
Beh winces as the baby latches on and then relaxes her head into the furs. I grab one of the extra furs and roll it into a little ball to place under her head since she likes lying that way. She looks up at me, and her eyes shine.
“Loves,” she whispers.
“Luffs!”
Beh and our daughter settle deeper into the sleeping area while I gather up the old fur that is now covered in blood, wrap the placenta up in it, and head outside the cave. I don’t go far—I would never leave my new family alone for long—but only far enough to find the hole I had dug some time ago and dump the fur-wrapped placenta in it. I cover it with dirt and leaves to keep predators away and then head back to the cave.
The baby is still busy suckling though she seems to be asleep at the same time. Beh’s eyes are open but glassy, and I think she is only partially awake. I try to get her to eat some more food, and she drinks some meat broth before waving me away.
Though the sun is high in the sky, I crawl over my mate and baby to lie down with them in the warm furs. I watch in awe at the pair of them and wonder if there is any possible way for me to be happier than at this very moment.
I reach over to push the hair from Beh’s forehead, and I realize the baby’s hair—now that it has dried a bit more—is not the same color as Beh’s. It has a golden-red tinge to it, which I know is more like mine. This prompts me to look at her face more closely, but she is too interested in her mother’s breast to show her whole face to me, and her eyes are still closed. I wonder what color they are and if they will be large and blue like her mother’s. Her fingers are tiny but long, compared to the rest of her little hands, and her cheeks are full and round with red splotches all over them from crying.
Beh’s fingers curl into my hair, and she brings my face close to hers to press her mouth to mine.
“Khzz,” I whisper when she releases me, and I’m rewarded with her lips against mine once again. She makes many soft sounds as her eyes stare at my face. I watch her mouth move as the noises come out from between her lips, and I’m grateful they are quiet noises. I reach out and wrap my arm around both the baby and Beh before I lay my head down on the furs.
I look up at Beh for a moment, but just the act of lying down has done me in, and I find myself drifting off quickly. With the warmth of my mate and my child to comfort me, I take a long, slow breath and smile.
As I doze off, I wonder if I can put another baby in her now.
The first few days are hard.
Beh is so tired, and the baby doesn’t sleep very long at a time. It’s been a while since I have been around a baby. My youngest sibling was already several seasons old when the fire took my tribe, and I forgot how messy they can be. Beh uses the little triangles of leather with some of her squares of cloth inside to wrap around the baby’s backside, and I end up washing the stinky things outside of the cave along with the straps of leather Beh wears to absorb the blood from after giving birth.
We make a lot of trips to the lake using the hide on a stick to carry not only the supplies we gather but also our baby. She lies in the middle, surrounded by furs, and looks around her with wide, blue eyes that are exactly like Beh’s. She wriggles and moves around a lot when she’s placed on her back, and her skin is wonderfully soft. I like to touch the corner of her mouth and watch her turn toward my finger, looking for milk.
She’s so pretty, just like Beh.
Even with little continuous sleep, we have to prepare for winter. I fish at the lake as Beh holds the baby close to her breast and digs for cattail roots. Once she has many of them loaded on the hide, she sits to feed the baby for a while. I go back to my work until I hear her call out my name-sound.