Alien Proliferation

he goes to Europe all the time. I didn’t get the feeling they talk much, either.”
    I talked to my parents all the time, at least several times a week; sometimes several times a day. The idea of not being in contact with them, or them being nearby and not stopping to see me if we were living far apart, seemed almost unthinkable.
    “Amy talks to my mom regularly.”
    Sheila grinned. “So do I. Your parents stay in touch with us and, from what your mom’s said when we’ve chatted, your best friends from college, too. In addition to Chuck, I mean.”
    This I knew to be true. Frankly, Mom kept in better touch with my friends than I did, which I chose to see as her being a great mom and helping me out, as opposed to me being a total loser as a friend and Mom desperately covering for me. “Well, my parents love you guys.”
    “I know. Amy knows, too, so don’t worry about it. I want an important question answered, young lady.”
    “Shoot.”
    “How are you liking married life? You got the instant baby, that can be kind of hard.” Sheila looked ready to console me if I wanted to whine and to shake the pom-poms if I was cheering about it. That was one of her best qualities, her ability to support her friends no matter what.
    “I like it. A lot. Jeff’s a great husband, and he’s a natural daddy.” Had a thought while I shoved Guilt and Worry away, hard. “You know, Jamie eats like a horse. My doctor was concerned she wasn’t getting enough milk, but she seems to be doing fine, at least so far. Did you go through anything like that?”
    “Oh, yeah. Number Two was a chowhound. He still is.” She grimaced. “Look, I know you know they’re all buying baby stuff for you. I ordered something, too, but lord knows when it’ll get here. We used to share stuff all the time—you still up for it?”
    “Sure, what?”
    Sheila grinned. “Gonna help you stock up for the long winter.” She grabbed my arm and headed us off.
    Sheila was carrying a huge diaper bag. I was envious. She led the way to a bathroom I didn’t even know existed in the library area. She looked pretty good for having four kids—I guess running after them kept her in shape. She reminded me of her mother. Amy reminded me of her own mom, too. And I was my mother’s little clone, apparently. Wondered if Jamie would be just like me. Sort of hoped so. But that made me want a little Jeff, too. He’d really gotten me focused on lots of kids over the less than two years I’d known him. Then again, maybe it was just because I loved him so much.
    “What’s it like having four?”
    “Never buy the lie that it’s easier the more you have. But, you know, they’re great. Each one’s different, but it’s neat to see yourself, your husband, and your families in them.”
    There were some people in Jeff’s family I knew neither one of us wanted to see in our kids. My mind tickled again. Again, no idea of why.
    “Where are Numbers One through Three?” They had names—Roger, Jr., David, Martin, and baby on the hip was Gerald—but they called them Numbers One through Four. It was their thing, and I’d always found it funny. Still did.
    “Roger has them. Your dad’s having a field day with them. I think he’s hoping you have a boy next.” Sheila dumped her baby bag on the counter. This was a nice bathroom—tried to mark its location for the future. Gave up.
    She dug something out—a lot of something. “What is that?”
    “Nursing mother’s best friend. An electric breast pump.”
    “Oh. Um. Ick.”
    She laughed. “Your boobs look ready to explode.”
    “I just fed Jamie, too.”
    “So, pump. You can store up—it freezes, for at least two weeks without a lot of issue.” She winked. “It’s great if you want to have someone watch the baby while you and the husband practice making another baby.”
    “You speak my language. Gimme the pump.”
    The less said about the joys of pumping breast milk the better. Having Jamie right there was a help, according to Sheila of La Leche League, which is what I started calling her the moment the pump began. I felt for milk cows.
    I was making boatloads of milk. It was almost horrifying. Sheila was really impressed. “God, you could be a professional wet nurse.”
    “I think I’d almost rather die. I love breastfeeding Jamie. But I think Jeff would draw the line at sharing the rack with anyone other than his own child.”
    “Oh, so he’s your usual then.”
    “What is that supposed to