Acceptance

"I love you, sayang. See you later."

Her husband leaned forward to kiss her goodbye. She watches as he drove away, for work. She sighs, alone again. She walks towards the baby room, slowly. Her heart heavy, dreading. Little Faris, barely three weeks old, in his crib. Wearing his red baby clothing, knitted by her mother. Her husband have changed him, before breakfast. She watches, as Faris on cue, starts to whimper.

Feeding time. Again.

She closes her eyes as she she gingerly picks him up. She caught a reflection of herself, holding the baby and she froze. Strange, the word she would use to describe it. Her baby, smells of roses and sweetness. She gags. She sat on the sofa, preparing to breastfeed her child. Her child. She has a child, a baby. She winced as he starts to suckle. She curses her breasts for producing milk. She curses the pedetrician, her mother, her husband and her mother for making her do such as a barbaric act

This will make you bond more, they said.

And she wonders if that will ever be a reality.