Growing with J.A.C.I.E. (All Time Low Fanfiction | Jack Barakat)

Chapter 28

I tested the temperature of the milk on my wrist as I moved from the kitchen to the living room. The bottle warmer had heated it up to the perfect temperature, ready for Eliza to be fed. It was the first time we were going to attempt to give her a bottle. I'd collected enough milk over a few days, ready to provide for the amount of times we were intending to give her a bottle. Now it was just time to see how receptive Eliza was.

She'd woken up hungry and was now screaming in short bursts in Jack's arms. The sound was ear-piercing. But Jack just rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her as they both waited for me for me to arrive with milk. Eliza was in for a shock when a plastic nipple appeared in front of her instead of one of mine.

"This is how warm it should be when you want to give her her bottle," I instructed Jack, testing the temperature of the milk on his wrist as well.

Although this was our first time feeding Eliza like this, I'd done it countless times with Ben. I knew the drill by now. The temperature was still ingrained in my mind even though Ben was twelve now. It wasn't something I could simply forget. Also the angle seemed like a second nature, making it hard to find the right words to explain it to Jack.

He repositioned Eliza so her head was in the crook of his elbow and he could fully support her with one arm. With his free hand, he took the bottle from me and titled it down towards Eliza before looking up at me for the next instructions.

"Alright, now you just need to make sure the nipple is filled with milk," I guided him, watching as he instinctively did just that. "Perfect. Now, gently touch the bottle to her lips and let her latch on. You got this."

Jack followed the instructions and brought the bottle close to Eliza. But she didn't seem to want anything to do with it. She continued squirming, her crying almost sounding like it was getting louder. Jack kept at it, lightly brushing it against her mouth, hoping she'd understand what to do.

"Ah, shit," I sighed, realising that hearing Eliza cry for so long around a normal feeding time had caused my breasts to leak.

He looked up at me in concern before his eyes landed on my little predicament. For some reason, the look he gave me was apologetic.

"I'll deal with it later," I brushed off, more concerned about getting Eliza to eat than a wet t-shirt.

Jack focused his attention back on Eliza, resuming with his attempts to get her to take the bottle. She, however, remained resistant and turned away her head from the unfamiliar object. Jack exchanged a puzzled look with me, a mix of frustration and determination evident in his eyes.

"She's not really into this, huh?" he commented, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"It's okay," I said as I took a few steps back. "Maybe she realises I'm close by and is waiting for me."

He looked at me, a little concerned that I was retreating. But I'd been told to not be too close to make it easier. She knew who I was, she knew where her usual meal came from. I needed to be there, but not right next to her.

"Try angling the bottle a bit more upward and tap her lower lip with the nipple," I attempted to keep giving tips, even though her crying was making it hard not to give in. "Sometimes that helps them recognise food is there."

Jack followed my guidance, adjusting the angle of the bottle. Eliza's cries persisted, but he persevered, tapping her lip as I suggested. It was a delicate dance, a negotiation between a tiny human and a plastic nipple.

"Come on, Meerkat," Jack cooed softly. "It's just like Mommy's milk, but from a bottle. Give it a try."

Despite his efforts, Eliza's little fists batted away the bottle, and her discontented sounds continued. I could sense Jack's frustration growing, mirroring my own internal struggle. Was Eliza just not ready for the transition? Was I trying to force this too soon? She was only five weeks old. I wasn't intending to even attempt this until she was eight weeks old. Maybe it was my fault?

In a last ditch effort, I pulled off my shirt, leaving me topless, and tossed the shirt to Jack. He stared at me with wide eyes, both shocked and confused by the action.

"Wrap it around the bottle," I elaborated, realising just how strange it must have looked to him. "It sometimes worked for Ben. I'd use my dad's clothes if he got fussy with me."

Jack caught on and did his best at creating a cover for the bottle with one hand. Almost immediately, it seemed like Eliza's curiosity was piqued with the familiar scent. She settled down slightly, but was still calling out for food. I observed nervously, waiting to see what she'd do. Jack gently touched the bottle to Eliza's lips again, and this time, something seemed to click. She latched on, and the rhythmic sucking sounds filled the room.

I sighed out in relief, the welcome sound of silence hitting my ears. As Jack's eyes widened in amazement and a triumphant smile spread across his face, I let myself fall into the armchair. Despite not being the one to feed her this time, I still felt so overwhelmed. I rubbed my face with the palm of my hands and breathed out heavily.

"I need to pump," I stated, realising my breasts were still leaky.

Jack nodded understandingly, keeping all his attention on Eliza and holding the bottle securely in his hand. "Go ahead. I got this."

I got up and walked over to the big plastic storage box we kept all the sterilised equipment in. For some reason, I was feeling such a mix of heavy emotions as I picked out what I needed. It was great news that Eliza was adapting to the bottle. And Jack was proving to be an amazing father. But something inside me was sad.

I sat back down in the armchair with the breast pump, and attached all the components. As the rhythmic hum of the pump filled the room, I couldn't shake the heaviness in my chest. The emotions, like a storm, swirled within me.

Jack, focused on feeding Eliza, spared me a glance. "You okay?"

I nodded, attempting a reassuring smile. "Yeah, the pump's just not that comfortable."

I watched as he returned his gaze back to Eliza. The intimate connection between father and daughter unfolded right before my eyes, and yet, a sense of isolation was creeping in. I continued to pump, trying to push away the unsettling feelings that were creeping in. Jack was doing such a wonderful job with Eliza, and I should have been overjoyed to see them bonding. But beneath the surface, an unexpected wave of emotions overwhelmed me.

As I sat there, the rhythmic sound of the pump became a backdrop to my thoughts. What was this heavy feeling in my chest? Why couldn't I fully embrace the joyous moment before me? It was as if an invisible weight had settled on my shoulders, and I couldn't shake it off.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he looked at me again, his smile replaced with pure concern.

Before I knew it, I was taking in a ragged breath as a tear escaped.

"Jace..." he exhaled, conflicted between wanting to reach out to me and still feeding Eliza.

"I'm okay." I gave my best effort at a smile and wiped away the tear.

His eyes were soft as he shook his head. "If you don't want us to bottle feed Eliza yet, we don't have to."

"It's not that," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I don't know what is."

"Talk to me."

"I honestly don't know."

He was silent for a second, as if contemplating his options. "Maybe we should get you some help?"

I took a moment to think before nodding. Even I could recognise that these feelings weren't normal.