The Rebirth (Age-Regression)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Maxim POV:

Aria has been screaming all night long. Nothing we do will calm her. We suspect she's teething. Most infants teethe around six months, but Aria is only three. After a quick google search, we learned that it is possible for her to be teething. My poor baby is miserable.  

"Come to Daddy, peanut." I whisper as I take Aria from my stressed wife. 

Her breasts have been leaking all night from the sound of Aria's cries. They're both stressed and I feel useless. Babies can feel their parents' anxiety and Aria seems to be feeling Anya's.

 Anya hands over our daughter and I press her against my bare chest. Maybe skin to skin will help. It's helped in the past, so I'm hoping it works now. Aria's distressed wails ease up just the slightest bit. 

"There you go. Daddy has you." I whisper while patting Aria's diapered butt.

"Is there seriously no medicine I can give her? Everything is almost six months and up." Anya complains as she browses google for solutions to our problem.

"All we can do is wait it out. We have some teethers in the back of the freezer for her. They've been in there since before she was born, though. I don't know if they can get freezer burnt or whatever. I've also read that we can give her a frozen vegetable to chew on, but that's usually for babies who have already been introduced to solids."

My shoulders shrug, disturbing Aria. She whines and brings her dimpled hand up to her mouth, sucking on her knuckles.

"It says here that we can give her some of my frozen colostrum. That should help, but I was saving that for when she was really sick." 

I take a look at my wife and she looks so tired. There's dark circles under her eyes that match the wet circles on her tank top. Her black hair is loosely tossed into a messy bun on top of her head and her brown eyes are shiny with unshed tears. 

"How much of it do you have?" I question, looking back down at my chunky girl. 

"Four bags. I guess I can heat up one for her now. If that's what it takes to calm her then I'll do it."

Anya stands and leaves the room to go make Aria that bottle. Meanwhile, I sit here with my miserable looking baby. She blinks her big blue eyes at me while continuing to suck on her hand. The sound is loud throughout our quiet bedroom. 

"Don't worry, chunky. Mama's getting something that's going to make you feel better." I say, using Aria's new nickname.

Now that she's put on some much-needed weight, she's quite the chunker. The shitty tabloid magazines have pointed it out too, saying that we're overfeeding our baby. I truly don't understand how that's possible. Aria only drinks breastmilk. There's no way we can be overfeeding her when she eats on demand. They just want some gossip on our sweet girl, that's all.

"Here. Can you feed her while I change my clothes? I stink like old milk." Anya asks as she hands me an infant baby bottle with four ounces of yellowish liquid. 

That would be colostrum. Apparently, it's really healthy for the baby, especially when they're sick. 

"Yeah. Do you want to shower? I can take care of Aria for you."

Anya nods and swipes her hand down her face. She has to be at work tomorrow and I can tell she's tired. I also have to work, but I get more breaks. I could take Aria onto set with me, but I would need somebody to watch her while I'm working. 

"That sounds nice. Thank you, babe. You're a life saver."

I watch as my wife happily moves towards the bathroom. Exhaustion is evident in the way her shoulders slump, but at least she gets to shower by herself for a few minutes. I'm guessing that's what's making her smile. Becoming parents has really changed our lives. We used to be able to sleep all night and take showers whenever we pleased. Now, we're happy to get five hours of sleep a night and a five-minute lukewarm shower.