Forever In My LIFE (Book 4) 2nd Alternate

Part 55

Back home in Minnesota, we resume our daily routine, but with Prince now splitting his time a little more equally between family and music.

Now, in an average person's life, the ending of November would mean gearing up for the holidays, but not in our little world. The days pass without much thought to the concept of 'holidays' or time for that matter, until the day arrives for Ramiel's six-month, well-baby visit.

This well-baby visit had to be arranged for after the new year, and just so happened to fall the morning after a particularly heavy snowfall. "Great! Are they even going to be open?" I ask as I'm bundling Ramiel into a snowsuit.

"Yes, Sugar, they'll be open," Prince says calmly. "Does he need all that? We're only going to be outside for five minutes, tops." My look silences him, but he rolls his eyes and shakes his head anyway. Prince has come to learn that these well-baby visits stress me out and make me highly agitated, I'm so used to our normal come-and-go-as-we-please lifestyle that set appointments feel like such a burden.

In the garage, I'm not surprised when Prince opens the back door of the Outback as I carry Ramiel. He's been seeming to favor my car more and more, even over the Jeep he occasionally drives when there's snow. "It handles better," he had mentioned casually one day when I grinned at his choice.

As Prince drives cautiously through the snowy streets, Ramiel babbles in the backseat with almost a constant, yet indecipherable chatter, we grin at each other as we listen. "Yeah, he's yours," I laugh.

"No doubt about that, I can hardly get a word in edgewise," Prince laughs, spurring a mimicked giggle from the backseat.

The appointment goes well, and our doctor still seems impressed with all of Ramiel's advanced milestone achievements. Little did we know that he would reveal yet another one today, and right in front of the doctor.

The time for the dreaded series of shots comes and while Prince paces, and I shift uneasily in the nearby chair. Our child is placed prone on the examination table and held still by an assisting nurse, since we both refuse to take part in restraining him We flash each other sympathetic glances when we hear Ramiel's unhappy noises, but I have to hide my face when the first needle inserted brings out a heart-wrenching wail from our baby.

"Almost done," I hear the nurse coo to him in a soothing manner. Ramiel is having none of it, he seems set to prove that his vocal chords and lung capacity just may rival his father's.

With the torture complete, Prince and I both zoom to the end of the examination table to comfort him. As soon as the nurse releases her hold on him, he flips over and crawls to us. We lean in and hold him together since his little hands were reaching for both of us at the same time. "Shhhh," I say, trying to kiss away his tears as my own are starting to slip free.

"How long has he been crawling?" the doctor asks.

Prince and I look at each other over Ramiel's head, letting his question sink in. "He hasn't," I answer, "he's just been rocking."

"Well, that was a crawl," the doctor smiles.

I smile through my tears, using this new achievement to try to cheer up our still distraught baby. "You crawled, Handsome!" I say in my best excited sounding voice. Prince quickly follows suit with his own excitement and praise. This sudden turn in our reaction causes Ramiel to stifle his cries, and study our happy faces. After a brief second of confusion, he starts to babble and grin. As an added way for me to comfort him, I bring him over to the chair and prepare to nurse. When Ramiel latches and begins to feed, he soon looks as unbothered as he usually does. The only indication of the trauma he had endured is a couple wayward tears clinging to his long lashes. This feeding brings on the topic of weaning and the introduction of solid foods.

On the way home, Prince looks over at me while he's driving, "Do we need to stop for baby food?"

I frown at him and chuckle, "No, I think we need to do some research first. I'm not just going to start spooning things into his mouth all willy-nilly. Right now, I'm still providing everything he needs." Prince nods in agreement by my practical approach. We fall quiet before I change the subject with a sigh, "He's crawling already," I look worriedly at Prince, "What's it going to be the next time? Will he be driving us home?"

Prince laughs, "I doubt that, Sugar, but I know what you mean," he pats my knee sympathetically.

Back at the house we delve into some baby food research and make a starter grocery list. From the reading we had just done, it looks like the baby food will be introduced sparingly, his main food source will still be provided by me.

This new information leaves me feeling oddly relieved. As time consuming as the breastfeeding is, I'm not ready to lose our bonding time just yet. I study Prince from across the room, he seems to handling all of Ramiel's advancements better than I am. Actually, Prince had been the one to initiate moving the bassinet from alongside our bed, to across the room, to its current location in the sitting area just outside our bedroom. "We need the privacy, Sugar," he had told me gently. "Plus it weirds me out when he watches us make love," he says with an exaggerated shudder.

"He doesn't know what we're doing," I explain, but the bassinet was soon on the move anyway. I know these things are expected, this distancing, and I do my best to follow Prince's lead, but I think it's just harder for the mother.

Prince notices me studying him and smiles, before he says the words I was just dreading, "I think we should try Ramiel in his crib tonight."

I hope that my smile doesn't look forced when I nod and say, "Okay." I watch Ramiel as he plays on his blanket, 'talking' to a small stuffed rattle before he decides to practice his crawling again. Don't grow so fast, Little Man, I think to myself as he crosses the short distance to me to be picked up.