This woman who had been eyeing my wife and I both since she eyed us co-feeding the boys interchangeably in the first waiting room (sitting very strategically between us and the view of the teenage boy she seemed to want to shield. She finally came out and asked, "Do you mind telling me what's the relationship?"
I wasn't sure at first who's relationship she was questioning - so I assumed the boys. "They're brothers." I exclaimed proudly.
"Yours? Or..."
"Ours." She tried to nod but couldn't seem to muster it up convincingly.
"We're married." I explained.
I caught the glance she shot at the tall awkward teenage boy standing next to her this time even though I didn't have a breast out to hide from.
"He swallowed a dime" I confessed for no reason in particular.
Her face opened into an oval in concern.
"It never came out the other end." My wife thought this X ray was unnecessary but the doctor had said the word "surgery" so I wasn't taking any chances.
"I'm sorry, you co-feed?"
Clearly, we both had our own agendas here.
"Well yeah," I said getting up to lift him over my shoulder for the umpteenth time.
"She gave birth to that one, and I gave birth to him, but they both breastfeed."
I looked at them. Clearly the teen was her son. "Did you breastfeed?" I felt our relationship had become intimate enough to warrant this question.
"Yes" she said. I guessed not on demand.
"It's the best thing for them. We're trying to keep it up as long as they need."
"Yes, she nodded. They do say that."
Then she added almost as an afterthought, "It's very unusual" and she and motioned to us.
"How long we're you able to keep it up?"
"Four months" she said. "I would have liked to have done more."
"It's easier with a spare pair." I said.
She laughed genuinely for the first time.
I wondered if she felt better or worse off for having spoke to me.
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