Nipple Rush: A Mother's Secret

I’m not even sure how it started. Not entirely sure when it happened, all I know is that I’m very glad that it did. Fair warning, this is going to get sad before it gets sexy. Anyone that’s just here for the heat, you’ve been warned. Please understand that marriage is about the good, the bad, the hot, the sad and the in between.

It was June 5, 2013. Wifey and I were expecting our second child. Another girl. We were so surprised because we were not expecting it to be so soon. How soon? Our eldest was born on June 7, 2012. We had just celebrated our first year of marriage (having gotten pregnant before getting married but married before she was born) when we found out. MyGiggling Maidsstory on MH tells that tale, but surprisingly the maids weren’t the only ones that heard her screaming that weekend.

When we found out we were pregnant again it was a shocker to us but we were excited. We didn’t want our kids to be that close together but we would love them all the same. I had been hoping for a boy but when I was at work earlier in 2013 I got a text message from the wife while I was on my break.

“It’s a girl.”

“Cool. I guess we’re having three kids then.” The plan was to have one boy one girl, but the limit was three if I didn’t get my boy.

“Yeah, I guess. So, there is something else…” At this point, I raised an eyebrow. What was that supposed to mean?

“Sort of, I’m not sure how to explain it.” I told her I was sorry but I had to get back. I was working at a call center at the time and they were super strict about usage of cell phones on the floor. I couldn’t get fired while only still in training. But I called her at lunch and she was crying the minute I asked her what was going on.

Gastroschisis.

A mouthful to say. Our daughter’s stomach lining hadn’t closed and now all her intestines were on the outside. There was nothing they could do while she was still in the womb. They told us that the only complications with Gastro-babies are they could be smaller, have a smaller heart, probably develop asthma, and wouldn’t have a belly button. The idea was the baby could still be birth vaginally, it wouldn’t harm her and then they would do some special surgery that allowed gravity to set everything inside her stomach the correct way when she was born. The only complication would be if her stomach started to close while she was still inside. Other than that, Gasto-babies were delivered fine all the time.

When we found out, it was a shocker but we were excited. We didn’t want our kids to be too close together. We had just celebrated our first year of marriage when we found out. The doctors monitored her and the baby constantly. Everything continued to go smoothly.

May the 31st rolled around and we had another meeting with her specialist. Not only was Iyana’s heart fine, but she was on track in her growth for a normal healthy baby. That Wednesday rolled around. Her OBGYN office was super busy and our eldest was acting like a turkey without her head so I took her out to the car and let her scream it out until she finally fell asleep.

I think back to this next moment a lot. I wish I hadn’t taken my frustration at our daughter’s attitude out on her. As time went by our daughter would wake up, scream for two minutes or so and then go back to sleep. I kept wondering what was taking so long, so I foolishly called her in my anger.

“What the hell is going on!? You should have been done by now!” I snapped into the receiver trying not to wake up our daughter who had just fallen back to sleep again.

I heard sobbing. From that moment, our world spiraled.

They couldn’t find a heartbeat. The answer to my rude question was they had taken her to do an actual ultrasound and had spent a good amount of time trying to find our daughter, but her heart had just stopped. They didn’t know why. They gave us options and they scheduled her to have an induction on Friday. In hindsight, I don’t know why we originally agreed to Friday because that was supposed to be our daughters first birthday.

But she went into labor on Thursday. I would later find out she prayed that if it was true, if Iyana really was gone already and it wasn’t some fluke, that she would just go into natural labor. For the biggest understatement of our lives, that was a rough day.

Then that was a rough couple of weeks. On that Friday I still took our eldest out for her birthday. At the time, I still had connections at a local theme park where I use to work and I went there to take advantage of the free stuff for my little girl. A lot of my friends knew what had happened the day before and one of them, who is also a Christian, asked me how I was doing? I told him I was fine as could be expected and he asked me how I was still able to find a reason to smile.

I told him that just because I lost one didn’t mean I wasn’t going to celebrate the life of the one I did have. And deep down inside I also knew that she was safe. She got to skip all the mess this world has to offer and was already in the Master’s arms and because of that, I didn’t have the worries of a father for her.

My wife, while a small part of her she saw it that way, couldn’t help but blame herself for everything that had happened. No matter what I said she still held herself responsible. She woke up from nightmares every night about our unborn baby and I would hold her until she was able to fall asleep again.

I, of course, took time off work, by that point I had just reached the floor but no one is going to deny bereavement for losing a child. My days at home were spent generally taking care of our eldest while the wife took care of herself. I tried to help her have some sort of normalcy in her life again. I was afraid I would lose her. If that ended up being true, I was determined to make sure that no one was going to say I didn’t try.

She tried her hardest for me and I for her. The Sunday after they released her from the hospital during the altar call at church I took her by the hand and had the church pray over us. She later told me she didn’t want to go but she was glad I made her. Two weeks past and I could tell she was starting to accept what had happened in her own way and wasn’t beating up on herself as much anymore. The nightmare was less frequent but it still showed its ugly head.

Week three rolled around and I didn’t get paid for my bereavement until I went back to work, so it was nearing the end of when I could stay home. I kept watching both of my girls. Evie didn’t have any issue with what had happened. What does it mean to be young and blind to the problems of the world? My Wife was better, but she still wasn’t her. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want to leave her home alone, but I also didn’t want us to end up homeless after everything that had happened.

I had been praying since she had delivered Iyana and I didn’t hear my baby girl cry. I had been hoping, right up to that moment, I would still hear the wail of a newborn baby. But nothing—nothing but the quiet sound of the enemy trying to suck the Spirit out of my Wife and I. The doctors and nurses were working but I barely heard anything that they were saying as I held my wife’s hand. I looked at her and saw the blank stare on her face as she desperately listened for our daughter to cry. That was when I started praying.

I knew God would answer my prayer. I just didn’t know when. And I most certainly wasn’t expecting how.

When we had Evie, we waited four and a half weeks before we were ravishing each other again. Evie had torn her open a bit so she had stitches that needed to heal. When she was sure they were gone, she demanded me. I happily obliged. But with Iyana, sex was the furthest thing from both our minds. I even think back to a couple of times I had unfortunately watched porn during our hiatus after Evie but after Iyana I wouldn’t dare especially since I was asking for healing on my family.

“God!” she groaned as she walked into our bedroom one afternoon. “My fuckin’ tits hurt!” she hissed as she closed the door. She had just put Evie to bed and I was sitting there on my computer trying to finish up some homework I eventually wouldn’t even turn in. It was hot since our apartment didn’t have an AC, just a swamp cooler out in the living room. I sat there with my shirt off letting the fan blow through our room.

“Well,” I said hesitating. “If you need me too, I can rub them to see if that will help?” I offered. I was super skeptical about it though. After our firstborn had basically made her nipples bleed while she was feeding, she had formed Mastitis in one of her breasts and we put her on formula. Her doctors told me it would help if I alternated between putting warm/hot moist towel on her breast and then rubbing it to help loosen up all the milk.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I didn’t mean to cause you pain.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently as she laid back on the bed.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Just do whatever you feel comfortable with.” As I wrapped my hands around her breasts, I realized how much I missed her touch. Her skin felt soft and warm beneath my fingers, and her body was shaking with pleasure. The sensation was intoxicating, and I lost myself in the moment. She was vulnerable and trusting, and it felt good to be the one in control. As she continued to moan, her body arched higher, and I realized that she was enjoying herself immensely. The thought crossed my mind to give her a taste of what she was missing.

“Let’s not waste any time, sweetheart,” I said, my voice husky with desire. “Let’s get back to what we both crave.” As I leaned in for a kiss, she responded with equal passion. Her lips met mine in a slow, deliberate way, and I savored every moment. Her body was writhing beneath me as we continued to explore each other. The heat between us was palpable, and I knew that we were both on the verge of something special. She turned over and laid on her back, her breasts exposed for my pleasure. Her body was quivering as she arched her back, and I knew that she was ready for more. I reached down and took her hand, pulling her closer. With a gentle squeeze, I began to tease her nipples, watching her reaction with anticipation. Her moans grew louder, and her body continued to writhe. As I increased the pressure, her pussy began to swell, and I knew that she was about to explode. Finally, she let out a piercing scream, and her body arched even higher, reaching its peak. I kept going, teasing her nipples and pussy until she could take no more. Then, I released my hold, allowing her to finally let loose. She cried out as her body convulsed, her pussy filling up and spilling out onto her chest. Her legs began to shake uncontrollably, and she let out another piercing scream. It was an intense experience, both for her and for me. The heat between us was undeniable, and I knew that we had just crossed a line that we couldn’t easily uncross.

“You’ve been a good girl,” I said softly, my voice filled with tenderness. “But don’t think that this means you can always expect this kind of pleasure.” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with desire. “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “I’ll always be here for you.” And with that, she leaned in for another kiss, sealing our fate.

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