"Our daughter," Hamilton affirms, softly, feeling a little squeeze in his heart. "Not a chance. I'm not going anywhere."
Burr falls into utter exhaustion, and Hamilton is a little surprised to find the activity of the birth isn't over. Theodosia needs to be cleaned off, which is done with a damp cloth, though she frets while it's going. Then, Mrs. Smith demonstrates how to swaddle her, and also how to pin the little wool clout in place.
The surgeon winds cotton bandage and presses it inside Burr to help with the bleeding that still doesn't seem to be done. Helps them wipe Burr down, cleaning up the worst of it, where his body has soiled itself in the strain. Dabs off a trail where his nipple has leaked white.
Hamilton lifts Burr to put him on the bed, while the linens that were on the ground are taken to clean. The women are uncomplaining, though this is an incredible amount of work. When Hamilton tries to help, he is firmly redirected towards the bed with the baby and his mate.
"Could you ask Laurens," he says, to Mrs. Smith, "to bring a spare shirt?" Hamilton had one, in the saddlebags. His current one is filthy, and so is he. The bruise where Burr bit him is going to be pretty spectacular, looks like.
Laurens is at the door, then, and Hamilton meets him. "A girl," Hamilton says, weakly. "Theodosia. She's healthy; Burr is resting." Burr is not so healthy.
Laurens breaks into a broad grin and hugs Hamilton tight. "You're a father," he whispers, so as not to disturb Burr.
"And you, a god-father," says Hamilton, "if -- I mean -- if you wish it." And if Burr doesn't get mad at him for that when he wakes up. He thinks Burr would approve, though.
"Oh, Alex," and Laurens is embracing him, again. "I would like nothing more."
He returns to the bed, holds the little wrapped-up Theo in his arms. Tucks himself in next to Burr. Burr seems fretful, almost-conscious when Hamilton comes back, but once they're together again, Burr steadies out and falls into a deeper slumber.
Eventually, with the distant sounds of cheering and a bit of revelry among the men -- Washington must have told them, and let them celebrate -- Hamilton falls asleep too.
no subject
Burr falls into utter exhaustion, and Hamilton is a little surprised to find the activity of the birth isn't over. Theodosia needs to be cleaned off, which is done with a damp cloth, though she frets while it's going. Then, Mrs. Smith demonstrates how to swaddle her, and also how to pin the little wool clout in place.
The surgeon winds cotton bandage and presses it inside Burr to help with the bleeding that still doesn't seem to be done. Helps them wipe Burr down, cleaning up the worst of it, where his body has soiled itself in the strain. Dabs off a trail where his nipple has leaked white.
Hamilton lifts Burr to put him on the bed, while the linens that were on the ground are taken to clean. The women are uncomplaining, though this is an incredible amount of work. When Hamilton tries to help, he is firmly redirected towards the bed with the baby and his mate.
"Could you ask Laurens," he says, to Mrs. Smith, "to bring a spare shirt?" Hamilton had one, in the saddlebags. His current one is filthy, and so is he. The bruise where Burr bit him is going to be pretty spectacular, looks like.
Laurens is at the door, then, and Hamilton meets him. "A girl," Hamilton says, weakly. "Theodosia. She's healthy; Burr is resting." Burr is not so healthy.
Laurens breaks into a broad grin and hugs Hamilton tight. "You're a father," he whispers, so as not to disturb Burr.
"And you, a god-father," says Hamilton, "if -- I mean -- if you wish it." And if Burr doesn't get mad at him for that when he wakes up. He thinks Burr would approve, though.
"Oh, Alex," and Laurens is embracing him, again. "I would like nothing more."
He returns to the bed, holds the little wrapped-up Theo in his arms. Tucks himself in next to Burr. Burr seems fretful, almost-conscious when Hamilton comes back, but once they're together again, Burr steadies out and falls into a deeper slumber.
Eventually, with the distant sounds of cheering and a bit of revelry among the men -- Washington must have told them, and let them celebrate -- Hamilton falls asleep too.