Lyllian’s back aches. Her neck creaks impossibly as she lifts her sleep heavy head from her shoulder to peer down into the bassinet by her side. Little Viv is wiggling to and fro, side to side, big dark eyes laughing at her mother. Lyllian smiles gently and reaches for her youngest daughter.

“Hungry again little moo?, Lyllian eases into a more upright position absentmindedly snickering at the trumpeting snore issuing from the lump that is Michael on her other side. Vivienne snuggles into her mother’s side her little mouth searching. Lyllian had struggled at first, getting Viv to latch on. The days and nights were frustrating and endless. Waves a guilt and inadequacy. The lactation nurse assured Lyllian it was normal and to simply be patient. Patience was not a Lyllian trait. She and Viv had eventually found their special rhythm. Now the familiar tug lulls Lyllian into a peaceful doze. It had been hard with Frankie too she remembers. Angry tears and worry had been Lyllian’s companion that first week.  But she’d gotten it. She always did. 

Next Chapter: Lyllian, Seattle, Winter 2013