Taylor's POV
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"Henry, shush darling, mama is trying to get the groceries, please" I say softly down to him, watching him bite and chew his hands between small whines. This morning I dressed him, looking out at the sun shining through the cherry trees, I carefully placed the sun hat that Rachel purchased for him over his blonde curls, and pulled a pale blue and white checked suit on him. It has a cute red boat embroidered onto the breast and shorts, I had pulled long socks on him because I thought they would look adorable. Three older ladies, also shopping, have already cooed at him like he's some kind of celebrity and I'm not used to being stopped so many times during a simple shopping trip. So far however I have managed the public attention very well by just smiling and nodding, explaining that he is but days old.
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Henry's car seat is clipped into the shopping trolley as I peruse the food aisle like I have done many times in my life without it ever being this stressful. Growing anxious, I fiddle around the changing bag, also dumped in the shopping trolley and grasp a bottle of breast milk for him to have. Whipping my boobs out in the middle of the canned goods section is somehow not exactly appealing to me. Holding the bottle with one hand and the trolley with the other I feed him and he gulps away happily.
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Half expecting the inevitable feeding cries I had offered him his favourite thing in this world, my boob, in the Audi before I left for the shop. He had refused yet here we are; him guzzling a bottle down like there's no tomorrow and me frantically bagging items into our trolley. Things that I'm not sure we will even need. Brain fog is my least favourite symptom so far of motherhood and if I'm entirely honest, I've no idea what I came in this shop for. I'm just kind of winging it hoping that chickpeas will come in handy when I'm cooking later. It's just that Henry takes over ninety nine percent of my brain and the remaining one percent is just tired. I'm continually expecting his next need unable to focus on my own needs and the daily things around me.
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I glance down as he finishes the bottle, lifting him up briefly and patting his back with a burp cloth draped over my white camisole dress. Jay had insisted coming along with us, blowing off his online meeting with the board, however I insisted that I could do this on my own. Telling him that his job is important and that I am more than capable of grocery shopping with a baby, he had grinned irresistibly and kissed my lips. Henry and I are managing our first outing just fine I tell myself, perhaps I will take him into the baby store and purchase some more clothes and essentials after.
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Henry settles following his feed and after burping him, I tuck him back into the car seat clipping him in as he falls asleep. Taking a look at the trolley I almost laugh realising that I've only managed to bag chickpeas and onions so far. Next time I decide a list is essential for all of our trips leaving the house.
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A nice half hour nap gives me time to fill the entire trolley with the food we need for the chiller and the pantry, a few bottles of brandy for Jay which I'm sure he will laugh at. I've repurchased the largest multipack of newborn diapers and sensitive baby wipes that I could find, and as I pay with Jay's card we set off back to the Audi where I plan on feeding my little hungry baby again before I drag him around the baby clothes store.
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Placing Henry back securely in the car with his baby mobile going off in order to keep him happy I fill the entire boot and smile, never have I felt this accomplished after a simple food shop in my life. Yet somehow with a newborn it's a major achievement.
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Climbing back into the drivers seat, I pull my phone out of the changing bag hearing the chiming of twinkle twinkle little star from the back seat for what must be the one hundredth time.
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Love you both, missing you. Be safe don't rush. I'm currently listening to my dad drone on about deals and wishing I was with you both. Jay xx
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I smile broadly and message him back telling him all about Henry and the attention he draws from older woman. Imagining his small grin as he reads the message I place the phone back into the pocket of the changing bag and start up the car placing on some grown up music for my sanity before driving us off to the next stop.
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This time around after hearing the dulcet tones of Haim in the car and most likely my insufferable singing Henry remains asleep as I place him into the pram. I smile down at him in the parking lot as I watch him sprawled out in his pram the hood up shielding him from the sun. His arms stretched almost above his head as he sleeps. Zipping up the bassinet cover I hold a pacifier to his pursed lips and he suckles on it happily.
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Pushing my cream bugaboo over to the designer outlets with the bag attached to the handle I reflect on how this is the first time I've ever pushed a pram, in my life. I put my sunglasses over my eyes and smile down at my sleeping baby, feeling content that he is happy and healthy. That I am lucky enough to have this privilege that so many woman wish for on a daily basis. He softly snores and I chuckle as he rubs at his face before resting his little squishy hand back down above his head.
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The Christening outfits are rather white and flowy and I decide it may be worth getting Jay's opinion before dressing his little boy in a ruffled silk baby gown. I do however bulk buy vests in a range of sizes anticipating that newborn will not fit my little hungry monster for much longer.
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Henry stirs a few times and I look down at him wondering if it's feeding time again, however he falls back asleep. The bottle of breast milk I gave him was a full one hundred and fifty millimetres and it has kept him happy for a long time. Eyeing up the electric breast pumps I bag one of those and decide that I will now be pumping my milk like a cow in order to produce bottles that should keep him satiated for longer.
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Once he finally does wake I head over to the changing area, sit in one of the comfortable massage chairs and feed him. As the chair massages my back I seriously consider asking the attendant whether they stock them for sale, I laugh thinking of Jay and how he would chuckle at me spending thousands of dollars on a chair and how my retort would be to inform him that at least it's not yet another house. Henry's eyes open briefly and he looks up towards me, two small hands rested either side of me on my skin.
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Eventually he unlatches and I change him carefully before paying for all of his new designer clothes, lucky baby, I certainly was not clad in premium clothes. However I'm sure that Jay would question why I brought home a bag of bargain clothes for his little Gilbert Scott. Quite frankly if we can treat anybody in this world it has to be our son, and as my eyes water at the price tag of this particular treat, I imagine his future. The amount of opportunities he will receive due to his privilege, the sheer amount of experiences he will get growing up. The holidays and the multiple houses. I make it my objective to let him enjoy his life but also to be the anchor for him to remember that life is not all about money. I will shower him with love and we will teach him how to consider others.
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As I push my pram out of the store I notice another mother, older than myself, walking around with a child of around seven or eight years old. His chestnut hair cropped short as he walks past complaining about not being able to have a new brand of trainers whilst he is decked out in an Armani tracksuit. I make an instant decision to educate Henry, when he is old enough to understand gratitude so that I do not end up with an ignorant complacent child.
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