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𝗝𝗨𝗟𝗬: 𝘉𝘌𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘙𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘚 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏.
The two newborn cries wailed out of the monitor, waking her up for the fifth time in just two hours. She exhaled, her eyes heavy and unable to open fully. Her curly mane was messy, falling in her face as she lifted up, and yawned. She ran her fingers in her mane, removing her tresses out of her face to check the time. Three-fifteen. Shantey looked over to the other side of the bed that was empty, and had been that way for the past few weeks, despite her birthing twin son Tahir "Tah"and twin daughter Tahji "Gege" just six weeks ago.
Those six weeks Shantey has practically been without her husband. Since Ruth's trip abroad with her sisters and her cancer worsening, it had taken her husband's full attention.
Cancer was unfair, and Shantey understood. But she didn't impregnate herself and shouldn't have to do it alone. The last few months of her pregnancy with the twins was stressful enough, and led to her getting her tubes tied. After seven, she was finally done and all of what her last pregnancy taught her was how much she couldn't even depend on the man gave vows to.
Overly exhausted, she stood in just the 2XL shirt that swallowed her fuller postpartum figure and walked barefoot out her room and across to the twins' nursery. The cries still loud, and could only pray mentally that it didn't wake the other kids that slept peacefully. As she hit on the light switch, she came to the conclusion her eldest was gone or he would have been in the nursery before her to assist.
Staring at both twins in their cribs, faces red and tears staining their soft brown faces. The breath she was let out was shaky, tears at her brims. She was tired and overwhelmed. Her mind goes blank, and felt she did not know where to start. Change one before the other first, or feed one before the other? What if they just want to be held? How am I suppose to hold two at once?
Shantey was so out of it she didn't realize her cell was in her hand-the device she needed. She tried calling her husband five times just to not get an answer either time. The hard squeeze on the phone turned her knuckles white, wanting to throw it but there was some body better to call.
