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intheheartTitle: Certain
Rating: PG-13, swearing.
Summary: Gail is scared out of her mind.
Date: April 14th, 1988
Notes: none
"She's so little," Cecily breathed, looking down at the newborn Ivy Sophia Hirschfeld she cradled in her arms.
Gail smiled at her sister, hoping it didn't look as sick as it felt. "I know. Unbelievable, right?"
Cecily rocked the baby carefully from side to side. "To think she was in you. That's amazing. Isn't it amazing?" she cooed. "Yes, it's amazing. Tell Mommy how amazing it is!"
Mommy. The sick feeling roiled up in her stomach again. Gail swallowed it down. "It's even harder to believe when you're the one giving birth," she said. "Granted, I wasn't thinking much about that at the time."
"Heh." Cecily gave her a wry little smile, more than half a grimace. "That did look pretty awful."
She shrugged. "It could have been worse, I guess." She could have refused an epidural, for starters.
"But worth it," Cecily cooed to the baby. When Gail didn't respond, she looked up sharply. "It was worth it, wasn't it?"
Thank God, Ivy started to cry just then, and Gail held out her arms. "Give her to me," she said. "It's lunchtime."
Cecily carried the baby carefully over to the bed and laid her in Gail's arms, then propped her hands on her hips. "Don't think you can get away without answering the question."
Gail took her time arranging the baby and her breast to her satisfaction, but once her daughter had latched on and begun sucking contentedly, she didn't have much excuse not to talk. "I... it was worth it," she said, looking down at the tiny face and the small fists flailing gently against her. "Yes. It was."
Cecily made a skeptical noise, reached for the visitor's chair and pulled it over to Gail's bedside. "You don't sound too certain of that," she said, as she sat.
"Does it matter if I am?" she asked.
"Gail!" Cecily's eyes rounded in horror. "Of course it matters! This is a whole other person's life you're playing with. You can't just blow it off like it's nothing! This is a huge responsibility!"
"Do you think I don't know that?" Gail snapped. In her arms, Ivy blinked, let go of her nipple, and began to cry uncertainly. "Oh, hell," she said, and rocked her, gently. "There, sweetheart, it's okay. You're okay. Shh now."
Cecily ignored the baby in favor of her sister. "It's a big deal, Gail," she persisted, over thin wails. "This is important!"
"It's the most important thing I've ever done," Gail said, keeping her voice calm and even with an effort. She didn't want to scare her baby again. "I know."
"Then you should know that you can't afford to be uncertain about this," Cecily said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms as if she'd made a point.
Gail narrowed her eyes. "I would be wary," she said, choosing her words carefully, "of making blanket pronouncements when you, quite frankly, don't know what the goddamn hell you're talking about."
Cecily sat up, irritation flashing onto her face. "Now wait just a damn minute..."
"I know," Gail said, interrupting her sister and not much caring, "that this is the most important thing I have ever done or will ever do. I know. Why the fuck do you think I'm so scared?"
Cecily closed her mouth, blinked, and said in a much more subdued tone, "Are you scared?"
Gail looked down at her daughter, at the helpless little scrap of humanity who depended on her now for everything, and said, "Shitless."
"Oh," Cecily said.
In the ensuing long silence, Gail managed to soothe Ivy and get her to start nursing again. The faint sucking noises she made were oddly calming. So was the gentle tug against her nipple. Hadn't she read somewhere that nursing a baby did something to your brain? It was definitely calming her down.
Calm enough that she finally felt able to break the silence. "I'm scared to death, Cecily," she said. "Ivy is... I love her so much. I'd give up anything for her, do anything for her-- I know that I could kill somebody now, if they hurt her. Anyone. Even you."
Cecily smiled, weakly. "It's a good thing I won't try to hurt her, then, isn't it?"
It was a weak joke, and Gail ignored it. "That's why I'm so scared," she said, looking down at Ivy again. Her baby's eyes were the most intense shade of blue. Heaven knew where she'd gotten that-- not from her pale-eyed father, and not from Gail, whose eyes were a rather muddy shade of green-- but it was like looking into one of those underwater photographs, or directly up at sunset.
She knew most babies were born with blue eyes, but she hoped that Ivy kept hers.
"I guess I can see that," Cecily said, sounding doubtful. "But... I don't know. You were so emphatic when you decided to keep her, about this not being a mistake."
"And she isn't," Gail said, just as emphatically as she had on that distant day. "Ivy is perfect. I'm... I know that this was the right thing to do. I'm just terrified that I'm going to screw up somehow and..." She trailed off, and shrugged helplessly. Ivy complained in little mewling noises about her meal moving.
"I don't know what to say," Cecil said. "I wish I could make you feel better."
Gail shrugged again, just one shoulder this time so her daughter wouldn't be disturbed. "I guess I'll just have to play it by ear."
Cecily bit her lip, and Gail looked away from her. She didn't want to see the doubt on her sister's face, didn't need to feel that from anyone but herself.
She was afraid enough already. She didn't need others afraid for her.
Ivy evidently only wanted a light lunch, because she let go, smacked her lips, yawned, and nestled her head against Gail's breast contentedly. Gail couldn't help but smile at that-- it would be a pity to move her, but she had to put her breasts away sometime.
She'd just decided it was better to do it before Ivy fell properly asleep when a tiny hiccup escaped the baby, startling her so that she opened her eyes very wide. Gail met her daughter's deep blue eyes and froze.
Ivy, looking drowsy and nearly hypnotized, stared up at her mother, and reached up one tiny, chubby hand. What she was grabbing for, Gail never knew, because Ivy fell asleep halfway through, her eyes drooping shut and her hand falling down to rest at her side.
In that moment she loved her daughter so fiercely she could hardly breathe.
"Gail?" Cecily asked.
"Huh?" She looked up, and the moment was broken.
Cecily eyed her with an unreadable expression. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," Gail said.
Rating: PG-13, swearing.
Summary: Gail is scared out of her mind.
Date: April 14th, 1988
Notes: none
"She's so little," Cecily breathed, looking down at the newborn Ivy Sophia Hirschfeld she cradled in her arms.
Gail smiled at her sister, hoping it didn't look as sick as it felt. "I know. Unbelievable, right?"
Cecily rocked the baby carefully from side to side. "To think she was in you. That's amazing. Isn't it amazing?" she cooed. "Yes, it's amazing. Tell Mommy how amazing it is!"
Mommy. The sick feeling roiled up in her stomach again. Gail swallowed it down. "It's even harder to believe when you're the one giving birth," she said. "Granted, I wasn't thinking much about that at the time."
"Heh." Cecily gave her a wry little smile, more than half a grimace. "That did look pretty awful."
She shrugged. "It could have been worse, I guess." She could have refused an epidural, for starters.
"But worth it," Cecily cooed to the baby. When Gail didn't respond, she looked up sharply. "It was worth it, wasn't it?"
Thank God, Ivy started to cry just then, and Gail held out her arms. "Give her to me," she said. "It's lunchtime."
Cecily carried the baby carefully over to the bed and laid her in Gail's arms, then propped her hands on her hips. "Don't think you can get away without answering the question."
Gail took her time arranging the baby and her breast to her satisfaction, but once her daughter had latched on and begun sucking contentedly, she didn't have much excuse not to talk. "I... it was worth it," she said, looking down at the tiny face and the small fists flailing gently against her. "Yes. It was."
Cecily made a skeptical noise, reached for the visitor's chair and pulled it over to Gail's bedside. "You don't sound too certain of that," she said, as she sat.
"Does it matter if I am?" she asked.
"Gail!" Cecily's eyes rounded in horror. "Of course it matters! This is a whole other person's life you're playing with. You can't just blow it off like it's nothing! This is a huge responsibility!"
"Do you think I don't know that?" Gail snapped. In her arms, Ivy blinked, let go of her nipple, and began to cry uncertainly. "Oh, hell," she said, and rocked her, gently. "There, sweetheart, it's okay. You're okay. Shh now."
Cecily ignored the baby in favor of her sister. "It's a big deal, Gail," she persisted, over thin wails. "This is important!"
"It's the most important thing I've ever done," Gail said, keeping her voice calm and even with an effort. She didn't want to scare her baby again. "I know."
"Then you should know that you can't afford to be uncertain about this," Cecily said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms as if she'd made a point.
Gail narrowed her eyes. "I would be wary," she said, choosing her words carefully, "of making blanket pronouncements when you, quite frankly, don't know what the goddamn hell you're talking about."
Cecily sat up, irritation flashing onto her face. "Now wait just a damn minute..."
"I know," Gail said, interrupting her sister and not much caring, "that this is the most important thing I have ever done or will ever do. I know. Why the fuck do you think I'm so scared?"
Cecily closed her mouth, blinked, and said in a much more subdued tone, "Are you scared?"
Gail looked down at her daughter, at the helpless little scrap of humanity who depended on her now for everything, and said, "Shitless."
"Oh," Cecily said.
In the ensuing long silence, Gail managed to soothe Ivy and get her to start nursing again. The faint sucking noises she made were oddly calming. So was the gentle tug against her nipple. Hadn't she read somewhere that nursing a baby did something to your brain? It was definitely calming her down.
Calm enough that she finally felt able to break the silence. "I'm scared to death, Cecily," she said. "Ivy is... I love her so much. I'd give up anything for her, do anything for her-- I know that I could kill somebody now, if they hurt her. Anyone. Even you."
Cecily smiled, weakly. "It's a good thing I won't try to hurt her, then, isn't it?"
It was a weak joke, and Gail ignored it. "That's why I'm so scared," she said, looking down at Ivy again. Her baby's eyes were the most intense shade of blue. Heaven knew where she'd gotten that-- not from her pale-eyed father, and not from Gail, whose eyes were a rather muddy shade of green-- but it was like looking into one of those underwater photographs, or directly up at sunset.
She knew most babies were born with blue eyes, but she hoped that Ivy kept hers.
"I guess I can see that," Cecily said, sounding doubtful. "But... I don't know. You were so emphatic when you decided to keep her, about this not being a mistake."
"And she isn't," Gail said, just as emphatically as she had on that distant day. "Ivy is perfect. I'm... I know that this was the right thing to do. I'm just terrified that I'm going to screw up somehow and..." She trailed off, and shrugged helplessly. Ivy complained in little mewling noises about her meal moving.
"I don't know what to say," Cecil said. "I wish I could make you feel better."
Gail shrugged again, just one shoulder this time so her daughter wouldn't be disturbed. "I guess I'll just have to play it by ear."
Cecily bit her lip, and Gail looked away from her. She didn't want to see the doubt on her sister's face, didn't need to feel that from anyone but herself.
She was afraid enough already. She didn't need others afraid for her.
Ivy evidently only wanted a light lunch, because she let go, smacked her lips, yawned, and nestled her head against Gail's breast contentedly. Gail couldn't help but smile at that-- it would be a pity to move her, but she had to put her breasts away sometime.
She'd just decided it was better to do it before Ivy fell properly asleep when a tiny hiccup escaped the baby, startling her so that she opened her eyes very wide. Gail met her daughter's deep blue eyes and froze.
Ivy, looking drowsy and nearly hypnotized, stared up at her mother, and reached up one tiny, chubby hand. What she was grabbing for, Gail never knew, because Ivy fell asleep halfway through, her eyes drooping shut and her hand falling down to rest at her side.
In that moment she loved her daughter so fiercely she could hardly breathe.
"Gail?" Cecily asked.
"Huh?" She looked up, and the moment was broken.
Cecily eyed her with an unreadable expression. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," Gail said.
