When Nursing Wasn’t Enough: This is My Past
My milk was starting to come in, and I went to the salon. I had to have my hair done. People were coming to the house, coming to see the new babies, twins, and I wanted to at least look better than what I felt. My hair was a matted mess from days of being uncombed. I’d skipped more than a couple showers, more than a couple hours of sleep. So, couldn’t I get a few of those hours back and get my hair done? But the babies were hungry, and my milk was just starting to come in. I nursed them, but then went on to my appointment. My stylist turned the chair to face the mirror where I could see myself. Where I could see the flat iron smoothing the coils and the kinks to a mahogany flow. I felt a sense of relief—a moment for myself. “Look at you, already out the house. Who’s watching them babies?” “My mom.” I pulled out my phone, showed her the pics. The boy, the girl, …