Everyone froze the moment they saw bubbles coming out after baby Shala finished drinking her milk. The tiny girl had just eaten, her belly full, her hands still gripping the bottle when a small bubble escaped her mouth. Then another. It looked harmless, but to those who loved her, it was terrifying.
Shala made a faint sound, halfway between a cough and a cry. Her eyes widened, confused and uncomfortable. She squirmed, her small body stiffening as if something didn’t feel right inside. Daddy immediately lifted her upright, his face filled with worry. His hand gently patted her back, hoping it was only air trapped in her little tummy.
Shala whimpered softly, not screaming, but clearly uneasy. A bit of milk bubbled at her lips again. It wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to make everyone’s heart race. Was she choking? Was her stomach too full? Was she sick? Questions rushed faster than answers.
Daddy stayed calm, holding her close, rubbing her back in slow, steady circles. He spoke softly, reassuring her even though his own heart was pounding. After a moment, Shala let out a small burp. Then another bubble escaped, followed by a tired sigh. Her body relaxed slightly, though she still looked exhausted.
The fear slowly eased. It seemed like Shala had swallowed too much air while drinking too fast. Still, concern lingered. She was watched closely, her breathing checked, her color observed. Daddy kept her upright, refusing to put her down too soon.
After a few minutes, Shala rested her head against his chest. Her eyes fluttered, heavy with sleep. No more bubbles came. Her breathing became calm and even. Relief washed over everyone like a wave.
That small moment reminded them how fragile Shala still was. Every feed, every breath mattered. Love for her meant constant attention, patience, and care.
Shala slept peacefully, unaware of the fear she had caused. In daddy’s arms, she was safe again—protected, cherished, and never alone, even for a second.
