My Little Kiwi [H.S] ✔️

Chapter Two

I decide to go to the kitchen to heat up some the pizza which is now cold. I'm scrolling through Twitter while it heats up. Suddenly, I hear loud crying coming from the living room.

Oh, no.

I swear under my breath as I quickly head to my living room, where the source of the sound is coming from. The baby is kicking a wailing, the blankets originally covering it are now teetering dangerously on the edge of the carrier. Without the blankets covering the small human, I can see how tiny it is. I could probably hold him or her with just one hand. . .if I were to hold it. . .which I really don't want to. My guess is that the baby can't be older than three months.

I approach the toothless baby closer, hoping to find the problem without having to hold it. Unfortunately, I find nothing as the baby's cries turned into screams, its little face turning red from all the crying. I run a sweaty palm through my hair, the crying just making me more stressed than I already am. This crying needs to stop so I can think and stop a headache from occurring. But, how?!

After trying to make the baby stop crying with toys and songs, I figure out the only way to calm it down is by physical touch. With a deep breath, I reach out a shaky, anxiety-filled hand and I stroke the baby's head, in hopes of calming it down. The baby's skin is soft, and so is its strands of hair; much like a peach.
"It's okay, baby. Please don't cry," I manage to choke out. Although, it comes out in barely a whisper. I'm trying to remember what the mothers on my management team say to their babies when they cry. The baby continues to cry, though, a tiny bit quieter now. Its green, glassy eyes are still producing sad tears, leaking down its innocent, soft face.

The stress consuming my body from the mere presence of the baby is making it hard for me to think straight. I don't want to be in this position; and I wish none of this is happening to me. I just want it to be quiet so I can think logically, and bring down my stress levels.

When trying to soothe the baby by rubbing and touching different parts of its body still doesn't stop the crying, and I'm just about in tears myself, I decide to check the nappy bag one more time. All I find is a note. I'll read it later as it might help the situation, but first I have to stop this deafening noise. Unfortunately, there seems to only be one way.

I take a shaky breath before making sure all the blankets are removed. I unbuckle the crying and squirming baby with only slight struggle, as the buckles are quite complicated. I pick the baby up by the armpits and slowly lift myself and the baby up. I feel like I'm holding the baby a bit too tightly, but I don't want to drop it. Once I'm in a comfortable standing position, I slowly transition the baby from in front of me, to my shoulder where I rest one side of the baby's head. I move my hands so that one is on the back of the baby's head , and the other is underneath the baby's bottom.

I've helped the management mothers with their babies a few times here and there, so I've learned a few holding techniques. And I'm guessing this baby is very young and probably can't support its body or head weight. I stand rigidly as I feel my chest move up and down faster. The baby's cries are right next to my ear, but their not as loud now from the physical contact. I feel foolish standing like a statue with wide eyes and holding a screaming baby, afraid that any sort of movement will upset the kid further

Slowly, I bring my hand from the baby's bum up to its back, while making sure to support the bum with the crook of my elbow. I pat the baby's back a little and I start to walk around the living room a bit, knowing that just standing there will do nothing.
"Shh, it's okay baby. Don't cry. It's okay." I say in a (hopefully) calming voice. I feel my muscles relax a little as the crying slowly subsides to small sniffles. I can hear the crinkle of the baby's nappy under my hand, as well as how hard and fast my heart is beating right now. I can't believe it's actually working.