“Keep trying,” said Oris, a tall woman with a thick Caribbean accent and Hello Kitty faces on her scrubs. She scraped the colostrum from the tip of Edie’s nipple into a tiny plastic cup, then drew it into a blunt-tipped syringe. “All the good stuff’s in there.”

Edie’s feet itched inside the hospital-issue socks. She was wearing a hero-sized maxi pad and gauze underwear. Her eyes were dry and her brain felt both swollen and shriveled. All night long, while Nathan slept on the two-tone love seat beside her, she stared at the TV, watching couples hunt for houses by the beach, vaguely following their happy journeys through blurry closed captions. She kept her phone in her hand the whole time, waiting for Claudia to call. One minute she was livid, offended, disgusted that her sister would abandon her at the most intense moment of her life. The next minute, she was frantic, her body drowning in adrenaline as she searched her mind for where her sister could be. Claudia liked to walk by the water; could she have gotten drunk and slipped off a pier at South Street Seaport? Could she have been kidnapped by an Uber driver?

Oris lifted Lydia from the bassinet and handed the baby and the syringe to Edie. As she slid the tip between Lydia’s lips, Nathan walked in carrying a bag from the Greek diner a block away. While pregnant, Edie wasn’t allowed to eat an astonishing number of the foods she loved, and in the bag was one she’d missed the most: a runny egg and cheese sandwich. Nathan kissed her on the head and watched as Lydia drank the gooey serum. Oris suggested she try, again, to get the baby to latch.

“Tickle under baby’s chin,” said the nurse. “Tilt her. Yes. Now use your finger to open baby’s mouth.”

Edie felt like she didn’t have enough hands to do what she was being told. Hold baby. Tilt baby. Tickle baby. Open baby’s mouth. Squeeze the breast. Keep baby upright. Support baby’s head. She fumbled, looking down at her enormous areola, trying to shove it all far enough back into Lydia’s mouth that it wouldn’t just drop right out. It dropped right out.

“Fuck,” she hissed, tears burning her eyes.

“Try to relax,” said Oris. “Try again.”

Lydia started to squirm. She shook her head, screwed up her face, and let out a mewl. A mewl Edie was beginning to recognize as the harbinger of a wail.

“Baby’s hungry,” said Oris. “Time to eat.”

Edie had never felt more helpless. What did this woman expect her to do?

“Baby needs to eat. Here we go. Use the nipple to tickle her bottom lip.”

The wailing began. Nathan stood beside her, watching. Oris, watching.

“Come on now,” said Oris.

“You can do it,” said Nathan.

“Obviously I can’t!”