I wanted to run to the life pod and report the hatching to Levi and Naomi right away: two little girls and a little boy. And they didn't look like monsters, outside of having longer legs and feet that leaned towards the draconic side and a little tail on the boy.
But instincts had once again kicked in for Gilrack. He wouldn't leave the young, nor me, while they were so young. He grimaced as he said so, having never wanted me to feel trapped in the nest. It had been him and his father encouraging me to take excursions away while they had been eggs and me who had wanted to stay behind.
So I didn't fight it and simply wondered and the tiny little people I'd brought into the world—yes, people. Not freaks, not aliens, not mushed up pink wigglers like premature mammals often looked like. Tiny little people with ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, unique little faces with perfect little noses, mouths, and big dark eyes. I had examined their eyes closely when they were awake, unable to look away from their steady gazes on mine, and found a fain myriad of colors in their irises, like the colors of a pearl. I told Gilrack that our babies were born with either dark or gray eyes that turned to their final color after a few weeks and found him staring deeply into our awake babies eyes to in awe of the colors. Though that might have been just because his kind apparently were born with their eyes clothes, like kittens or puppies.
"They see me," he'd whispered. "They're looking at me."
"That's what eyes are for?" I said, more amused than bemused by his awe. It felt even more wonderful to have someone to share in all these new feelings. It wasn't just me counting toes or smoothing velvet soft baby hair, it was him as well, though much, much more cautiously to avoid knicking the tiny babies with his claws.
And tiny they were. I had a rough estimate of how big normal human babies were, having held my newborn nephew and nieces before, but even if I hadn't they'd seem miniscule. Gilrack could hold an entire baby in one hand with ease, and while his hands were twice the size of mine, it was still a feet. They looked to be half the size of a human baby, but it made sense to me seeing as their eggs hadn't grown all that much bigger and they were only the size of a softball when I'd birthed them. Or is it lain them? No, I am not using the word 'lay' in reference to me. It made me feel like a chicken.
I fully expected Gilrack's parents to rush in to view their new grandchildren, like humans were, but got a new culture shock that these weren't aliens. Apparently, instincts are especially high right after the hatching of young. If his parents so much as peeked now, they'd be risking getting attacked by Gilrack in a instinct induced madness. It was weird for me to think about, because looking at Gilrack he didn't look like he was readying to kill. He just looked like a soft, happy new daddy who couldn't sleep from eagerness to care for us.
But I had wished he could have at least let his mother come up, because I had no idea what I was doing. I only had the little knowledge from watching my sister with her babies for the day or so I had visited for. Basically, nipple in mouth, burp afterwards, and change the diaper—ugh, but aliens didn't have diapers. At least not the disposable ones. They had cloth diapers, but the babies were so tiny Gilrack couldn't tie or even change the diapers without hurting the babies with his claws, not that he didn't try because all the babies systems seemed to be on the same schedule. They all seemed to need to eat at the same time, and therefore pooped/peed at the same time, and it drove him near wild with need to 'fix' to have two babies crying while they waited for their turn to have their diapers changed. I found it didn't send me as frantic as him when they cried because their cries were more like kitten mewls to me, due to their tiny size, and as long as I was allowed to actively do something about their cries, I was appeased.
But that seemed to be enough. Feed, burp, diaper changes, and letting them nap close on mine or Gilrack's chest. Gilrack chattered something about them hearing our mindwaves and warmth, but it really because there was something heavenly about cuddling a tiny baby.
I also found myself, well, smelling them, or rather their heads, without thinking anything of it. I found each baby had their own scent and that scent, when normal and clean, soothed me more than anything. If I caught the smell of sweat, I somehow knew they were stressed or too hot and saw too it. A little rancid, they needed a bath. I didn't really realize actively what I was doing until I caught Gilrack purring as he watched me.
"What?" I'd asked, a little embarrassed. Was baby sniffing a thing?
"You're such a good mother," he'd said.
Which, well, thanks, but I'd think the jury would have more to judge on if there was more parenting to do than just feeding and cleaning.
But even when the babies were sleeping in their bundles or curled up on our chests, I felt like I was floundering in the dark, feeling out my scant memories and instincts like walls beneath my fingers. Gilrack wasn't too much help, despite having watched his own mother tend to his newly hatched siblings. He only fluttered around in a panic when they cried and purred at me in some sort of high when they weren't. From his mind waves, I got the feeling instincts were at play again and he was treating me like a female of his kind who would have been running on their instincts as well. And apparently the females of his kind were touchy after hatching, because he was wary of saying too much or telling me what to do, even though I straight up asked if he please would.
All and all, floundering aside, I swear it was the closest thing to heaven I'd ever been. I never knew just having babies could make someone feel like this. People talk about it all the time. My sister had described it to me. Even my mom would say kids give you a reason to live. But you don't truly comprehend what so much love feels like until you experience yourself. That deep seated joy and contentment, the insane beauty of your child, the wonder. And I had three!
And perhaps I am biased, but I believed my experience was deepened and made even more wonderous because I could feel their little mindwaves, like the brushing of fur. They lit up with recognition on seeing me and Gilrack. They shivered with insecurity and need, warmed with contentment, stuck with the strength of their attachment. They saw me as a part of them, something intrinsic and necessary, and the possible loss of that part equal unto death, which made sense. They couldn't survive without the food I could provide. They could do anything for themselves. But when they were reassured they wouldn't die, that they were safe, that they were whole, those furry, delicate mindwaves would wrap about my mind like their tiny fingers around mine, rich with belonging. I found holes I never knew existing filling up. They weren't the only ones who saw the other as an intrinsic part of them. These three were me.
But, perhaps, the greatest revelation I had was that, if they looked like me, if I looked even a fraction as beautiful of them, I was freaking gorgeous.
Even with how the aliens treated me—even how Gilrack had treated me—I'd never felt as pretty as when I was looking down at my babies.
They grew fast. After ten days they'd pudged up till they didn't so much have wrists or knuckles as lines in fat rolls, and it was adorable. I got more into the swing of things. They had to eat every two hours, which made sleep tricky, but when you had nothing to do but sleep, eat, and take care of babies, you found the time to catch up with said sleep. Poor Gilrack got woken up every time they so much as squeaked in their sleep, and that was when he did manage to sleep. Most of the time he felt the need to stand vigil at the front of the nest as demanded by his instincts. But it was at the tenth day that those instincts seemed to wane and his exhaustion finally seemed to catch up with him.
"You think you'd be okay letting your dad up so you can nap?" I asked.
He'd blinked at me blearily, the poor pupils of his eyes not sure what shape they were supposed to be.
I stroked his head, my fondness having grown ever deeper over the past few days. I couldn't see myself living without him anymore. This fragile, rash, clumsy alien who loved so fiercely and tried too hard.
After nearly nodding off beneath my touches, he finally grunted, his mind waves groggily agreeing.
I nudged his chin. "Go get him, then."
Both his mother and his father zipped up faster than I'd ever seen before. I worried his mother would rub Gilrack wrong, sensitive as he was, but, for once, he didn't seem to mind having his mother around. He even seemed pleased when she carefully picked up one of our lavender girls and filled the room with her coos and purring.
"Three. Three!" she cawed, just as Gilrack had when his joy couldn't be contained.
His father fluttered over the other two asleep in our nest, not even knowing where to start. It was almost as though he'd never seen babies before.
"Their eyes are open," said Gilrack.
His parents started in surprise.
"Yep. One's eyes are starting to turn gold like their daddy's," I said.
"Are they okay? Can they see? Is there puss?" clicked his mother at a hundred miles an hour—and for good reason. Their youngs eyes being open too soon often meant something was wrong, like an infection, and the baby was sure to be blind.
"Our young are born with their eyes able to open," I said patiently. I then took up my son to carefully peel back his blanket to show them the differences, since he was the heavier sleeper out of the three. The two stared plenty at the little, clawless toes and fingers. Shahtit nearly woke him up prodding his feet and his little whip-like tail.
Meanwhile, Gilrack slumped face first into the far side of the nest. His wing flumping next to the cushions near the last babies head startled her awake. She didn't cry, though, just stared with her brightening eyes. She was the one whose irises were growing gold.
Both grandparents zoomed in on her, their mindwaves leaking out to me in their awe.
"She's going to be a heartache for Gilrack," said Shahtit.
Horack hummed in agreement.
"Because all the boys will try to have her?" I asked, amused.
They both nodded grimly, though their mindwaves betrayed their elation.
"Such beautiful babies," clicked Shahtit as she carefully nestled the little girl she'd been holding next to her sister in our large nest. "You did so well. I will hunt. Horack?"
Horack nodded. "I shall guard."
"It's not like anyone is going to come up here," I said, more to myself.
"It doesn't matter. Gilrack's instincts are trusting us. He will wake the moment he doesn't sense our presence," said Shahtit. "I sometimes forget how little you know of instinct. It's a surprise you are as good a mother as you are. Your kind must lose many children."
I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.
"That is a rude assumption," murmured Horack to his wife.
She flinched. "Oh! Forgive me. Life finds a way in each species."
I nodded. "And we still have instincts. Some have them stronger than others."
"As with us," said Shahtit, already halfway out the door. "Is there anything you want, little mother?"
"Fruit?"
She flapped the edge of her wings in acquiesce and disappeared behind the curtain.
Horack finally seemed to get up the courage to hold a baby then and I handed over my son, who burbled softly in his sleep.
My golden eyed daughter seemed to be getting a little uneasy, based off her kitten-paw mindwaves, so I went over to fill my arms with her.
"Have you named them?" asked Horack.
I was surprised they hadn't asked the moment they had arrived, but I had felt the tense tinge of instincts as well in what little of their mindwaves made themselves to me. Gilrack wasn't the only one.
"The little boy is Shorack," following the naming tradition of Gilrack's kind to name them following the sound of their father's name. "The little girl sleeping with her father is Caulene," which followed both human and alien tradition by using a human-like name and having the last half-sound of the name like her mother's. "And this little girl," I smiled down at the gray-gold eyes looking up at me. She had been the last to hatch. "Is Amber."
I felt Horack's curiosity at the strange name pricked my mind.
"Awe-ber?" he tried.
"Amber," I said, letting him see how I rolled my lips inward. "It's a jewel made of the hardened resin of a tree from my world. It's kind of like the color of her eyes right now."
He hummed in his throat, looking down at Amber with me. Her lavender skin and spread to her extremities, making her not have the dark hands and feet that her siblings had. Her hair was also more of a brown than a purple like her sister's. She was, by far, the most human looking of our children, so I thought it only fitting to give her the most human-like name.
She huffed a tiny sigh.
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No, I will not take a nap. You can't make me. I don't care if I'm tired, naps are boring. I have editing to do. No, don't you dare bribe me with a sleepy child or my pikachu pillow! How dare you!...no...NO!!! Not a cuddling husband as well! NO! CURSE YOU!
Seriously, though, I really do hate naps. If I could I wouldn't sleep at night. I could get so much done. And I get frequent nightmares and cold sweats too, so it isn't like sleeping is fun.