Age: 3 months Warnings: anaphylactic shock Word Count: 1314 A/n: I hope it's alright that I changed it just a bit :)
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Natasha wasn't big on consuming anything that could make loosing weight a struggle–especially after giving birth. She removed a ton of unnecessary foods from her diet, allowing her postpartum body to become fit.
It was a much bigger struggle than she initially thought; a bit disappointed that her body didn't seem to change much after three months.
But she couldn't complain one bit, not when her entire body had changed to accommodate you. It had provided you with a home for nine long months, it had kept you fed and healthy.
Even outside the womb, you still relied on your mother's body.
As crazy as it sounds, Natasha was starting to regret getting back in shape. She didn't want to "fix" her body, she wanted to enjoy it. She wanted to keep the post pregnancy tummy and remember that she had created every part of you!
And for the first time, Natasha had enjoyed her very first American meal. She was practically forced to order a juicy hamburger, overly salted French fries and a large strawberry milkshake.
It was the greasiest meal she had ever consumed. The fact that she's so used to healthy foods made it so much worse–yet it was so good.
Natasha had you wrapped securely around her front as she ate her food–the team deciding to join her for a cheat day.
You had been sound asleep the entire meal, snoozing through Thor's obnoxiously loud laughs and Tony's constant self centered jokes. Natasha was impressed, especially since you weren't the best sleeper just yet.
But toward the end of their meal, you had began getting fussy. You squirmed as much as you could in the baby carrier wrapped around your mother's chest, whining loudly.
"What's wrong, детка?" Natasha cooed, gently bouncing on the booth as an attempt to calm you.
Your small whines began to grow louder, everyone in the restaurant now turning their attention toward you.
"Diaper change maybe?" Bruce suggested.
Natasha shook her head, "No, I think she's just hungry."
The boys raised a brow, already understanding what Natasha needed to do. The ex-assassin smirked as she quickly finished the rest of her milkshake before sliding out of the booth.
"I'll be back."
Natasha walked quickly towards the back of the restaurant, grateful that they had single-stall bathrooms. Locking the door behind her, she began removing you from the baby carrier.
As you continued to squirm, Natasha struggled to unbuckle the straps that held you in. "Shh, детка I'm going as fast as I can."
Her soothing voice calmed you slightly, enabling her to free your leg. Quickly, Natasha pulled down her shirt and bra and held you close to her chest.
While you suckled needfully, Natasha watched in the mirror. It was a new angle for her, as she normally just looks down.
Natasha hummed quietly, swaying back and forth to make the time go by faster. Usually, it takes you about half an hour until your satisfied–which of course can be a bit boring for your mother after a while.
But when Natasha felt you latch off sooner than usual, she glanced down at you. It had only been fifteen minutes and you hadn't eaten since the morning–causing the woman to feel a little concerned.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Besides your usual rosy complexion, you seemed okay.
Feeling a little confused, Natasha made sure you were actually done before covering herself back up. Though this could be nothing, Natasha still felt the need to keep a very close eye on you.
Natasha sat back down at the table, joining in on the small conversation between the team. Every now and then she'd glance down at you, feeling unsettled by the lack of milk you had.
Maybe her mind was playing tricks or maybe her maternal instincts had kicked in too early for her to notice, but your natural rosy complexion started to become blotchy and red. She gently ran her finger across your cheek, noticing little red bumps that certainly weren't there moments ago.
"Bruce?" Natasha called, not once taking her eyes off of you. Your lips were just barely parted, but over the loud commotion of the restaurant and the team, Natasha couldn't hear the raspy sound of your breathing.
"What's up?" He asked, looking up from his empty plate. He noticed the worried look across your mothers face as she stared down at you, immediately understanding why he was called.
Before Natasha could answer him, she leaned down, her ear practically touching your parted lips. She gasped, hearing you struggle to breath.
"Something's wrong!" Natasha shouted, standing up without any warning. She didn't even attempt to grab her wallet and jacket as she only really cared for you.
Bruce stood up, trying to take you from your mother's arms, though she wouldn't let him. Instead, he took a look at your now swollen face, taking in the hives that had appeared around your lips.
___
"So it's my fault?" Natasha asked, her voice breaking as she paced the room. You were knocked out. The exhaustion from going through anaphylactic shock was hard for any adult–but for a three month old baby?
"You had no idea." Bruce reassured her, reaching out to stop the woman from pacing.
Natasha quickly wiped away the few tears that had slipped out, sighing. "She could have died!"
"But she didn't." Bruce tried. "She's a fighter, just like her mom."
That brought a small appreciative smile to the woman's plump lips. Though it didn't distract her from an unwanted feeling. A feeling of betrayal. Her body had betrayed her.
Even though it wasn't specifically her milk that caused you to go into anaphylactic shock, it still felt like a betrayal.
"Keep any dairy products out of your diet for as long as you plan to breastfeed. If by any chance you consume anything with dairy, don't breast feed for at least two to three weeks." Bruce instructed.
Natasha nodded along to Bruce's instruction, though her eyes were glued to your tiny body. You were so helpless and you were too little to express the pain and discomfort you had felt. You couldn't even tell your mama that something was wrong.
And you knew something was wrong. It was obvious the second you stopped eating after only fifteen minutes.
Maybe that was your way of telling Natasha?
As soon as Bruce left the room, Natasha climbed into the hospital bed beside you. It was so big compared to you and the ex-assassin had to stop herself from pulling you into her body.
She felt horrible for what had happened because in the end, it was her fault. She was the one who drank the milkshake, she was the one who fed you immediately after, she was the one who knew in her gut that something was wrong from the very beginning. But her brain tried to play off her gut instinct as simple paranoia.
Natasha felt lost knowing she couldn't physically feed you for the next few weeks. She wouldn't be able to have the relieving sensation as you chugged your milk, she wouldn't have the satisfaction of her own body continuing to provide for you. Though, it'd only be a few weeks, it was still going to be hard. Her breasts would become painful with more milk than they could hold and you wouldn't be able to get your full amount of nutrients. Natasha would have to find dairy free formula for you, but she'd do anything to make sure neither of you have that experience again.
The woman brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, planting a kiss on your temple. "Everything's alright now, детка."
