In the early hours of the morning, almost nine months after arriving on Pandora, Hope went into labor. Fears for her baby's fate didn't make for an easy delivery, but the midwife was very stern with her, telling her to stop fretting. "Your baby won't come out if his or her mother isn't willing," she said curtly. "I suggest you stop interfering with the process." Her tone conveyed things might go badly for Hope if she didn't comply, and the girl grimaced between contractions. But she had no choice; her baby was past ready to be born. Setting her fear aside, she concentrated on the process at hand. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5XNIQJd6E
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As the sky began to lighten, Hope gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The newborn was immediately whisked away after the cord had been cut, and though tired and in pain, Hope prayed the check up wouldn't take too long. But as she was cleaned and stitched up, no one returned with her baby, and her fears resurfaced. "Where's my baby?" she demanded of one of the nurses. "Please, where's my baby?"
"Your baby is being checked over," the nurse replied shortly. "Now be quiet; you don't want to upset your milk supply, do you?"
Thus quashed, Hope endured a nightmare few hours before her baby was finally brought to her. But even then, she had to wait for another few agonising minutes before she was finally allowed to hold her daughter, and everything melted away in the rush of love she felt as she looked on the tiny face. "She's beautiful," she murmured, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't believe it."
The nurse who'd brought her baby to her gave her a stern glance. "Stop crying," she said. "You have your baby now; why are you acting like a child? If you don't stop, I'll take her away until you can promise me you'll keep your emotions in check."
Hope took a deep breath. "I'm just glad she's alive," she said, forcing herself to calm down, since the nurse looked ready to snatch her daughter from her there and then.
The nurse sniffed. "I've half a mind to take her away," she warned. "You're behaving very badly."
It was on the tip of Hope's tongue to give an equally sharp reply, but since the conversation had drawn a few more nurses, all of whom were glaring at her, she refrained. "I'm sorry," she said meekly. At that moment, her baby began to stir, and, instinctively guessing what her daughter needed, Hope unlaced her nightgown one-handed. One of the nurses intervened before she could begin feeding her daughter. "No," she said. She produced a bottle and, with the air of one performing an unpleasant duty, handed it to the new mother. "Your child is very precious," the nurse told the shocked girl. "Until her tests have been completed, you'll be feeding her formula. Once it has been determined breastfeeding is safe, you'll be permitted to do so."
Her tone warned of dire consequences if Hope didn't comply and, feeling like she was nothing more than an incubator, Hope reluctantly gave the bottle to her daughter. Luckily the baby took to the bottle immediately, and Hope felt some of her bitterness fade away as she watched the tiny hands gripping the warm plastic. She was very careful to keep her face neutral, but it was very hard when the nurses all watched her like a hawk, ready to snatch her baby away at the first sign of emotion.
The feeding done, Hope gently wiped the baby's mouth and burped her, and soon, the tiny body in her arms settled into sleep once more. One of the nurses took the empty bottle. "You'll be feeding her every four hours," she instructed the new mother. "We'll have a crib moved in so you can keep her close to you, but be warned; you will be watched whenever you and the baby are together. If you're caught crying, or showing any untoward emotions, the baby will be removed from your care until you can prove to us you're ready to be an adult. You're a mother now; it's time to put all your childish emotions behind you."
This, Hope thought resentfully, was very unfair. But at least her baby was with her, for the time being, at least. Keeping a lid on her emotions would be very difficult, but if she could conceal her fears from her husband, she could easily put on a mask of meekness for these crotchety old goblins who ate rocks for breakfast and picked their teeth with the bones of small animals. Besides, she told herself, as the promised crib was rolled into her room, they can't keep an eye on me 24/7.
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