Invisible String

13

I should’ve known it was too quiet. That kind of calm is always a setup.

It had been a week since we brought the girls home, and we were just beginning to find a rhythm. Not a perfect one—God no—but something that passed for order. Mira had finally started giving us four-hour stretches at night, and Lily was growing more used to sharing us, even if she still insisted on sitting in my lap every single time I sat down.

We had survived the hardest part. Or so I thought.

It was just past midnight when the crying started again. Mira. High-pitched and desperate, not her usual sleepy hunger sounds. I shot up in bed so fast it made my head spin.

Travis groaned beside me, but I was already out the door.

In the nursery, I found her red-faced and writhing in the bassinet, her fists clenched and legs kicking. She wouldn’t latch onto the nursing tube when I tried—she turned her head and screamed louder.

Something was wrong.

I rocked her, bounced her, tried gas drops, even sang. Nothing worked. Her cries kept climbing, filling the house, and just as I was about to wake Travis, I heard it.

Another cry.

From Lily’s room.

“No, no, no,” I whispered, pacing with Mira in my arms.

It was like dominoes. I rushed down the hall, holding Mira, to find Lily standing in her crib, face wet with tears, clutching her stuffed giraffe.

“Mamaaaa!”

My heart cracked.

“I’m here, baby,” I said, trying to soothe them both. Mira screamed louder. Lily sobbed harder. My brain was splitting in two.

Travis came stumbling in, shirtless and bleary-eyed. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know! She won’t eat, and now Lily’s up, and—Travis, I can’t do both right now.”

He took Lily from me gently, holding her close. “Go. Take Mira. Try the wrap. I’ll handle Lily.”

I nodded, almost running back to the nursery. I sat on the rocker, skin to skin with Mira, wrapped her against me with trembling fingers, praying the warmth would help. After a few minutes, her cries slowed, and finally, finally, she nuzzled into my chest with a shaky sigh.

I didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe for a second. Just let my tears fall into her hair.

Back in Lily’s room, I could hear Travis talking softly. “You just miss your mama, huh? She’s helping your sister. That’s okay. I got you, peanut.”

Guilt crawled up my spine. I was so terrified of failing Mira, but I was already letting Lily down.

When the house finally settled, an hour later, I passed Travis in the hallway. He was carrying a blanket and pillow to the couch.

“You don’t have to sleep out there,” I whispered.

“I think I should tonight. If one wakes up, I can try to keep her quiet before she gets the other going. It’s… it’s just a phase, right?”

My chest ached. “It has to be.”

But deep down, I wasn’t sure. What if we couldn’t handle both? What if Lily never felt like she belonged again? What if Mira didn’t attach to us the way she should?

Travis leaned in and kissed my forehead. “You’re doing amazing.”

“I feel like I’m breaking.”