Baby Shala’s cries rose sharply as she finished her milk, anger bubbling faster than comfort. Daddy stood nearby, calm but firm, waiting for her to settle. Shala didn’t want waiting. She wanted arms, warmth, and reassurance now. Her tiny fists clenched, feet kicking as she screamed, eyes flashing with frustration and fear.
The bottle was empty, yet her feelings were full. She arched her back, crying louder, calling Daddy again and again. He spoke softly, reminding her to breathe, to calm down, to rest. But Shala’s emotions tumbled over each other. Hunger lingered, discomfort stirred, and anger spilled out in sharp cries.
Suddenly her body stiffened. A small gag escaped, and milk came back up. Shala vomited, shocked and exhausted, her cries breaking into weak whimpers. Daddy reacted instantly, lifting her upright, wiping her mouth, rubbing her back with slow, steady hands. There was no scolding, only concern.
Shala shook, tears sliding down her cheeks. The anger drained, replaced by confusion and tired pain. Daddy held her close, murmuring gentle words, rocking until her breathing slowed. The room grew quiet except for her soft sniffles.
In his arms, Shala felt safe again. The storm inside her eased. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat beneath her ear. Daddy stayed patient, knowing her anger wasn’t bad behavior. It was a baby’s way of saying something didn’t feel right.
After a while, Shala relaxed completely. Her eyelids drooped, her body warm and still. The hard moment passed, leaving only closeness behind. Daddy kissed her head, grateful she was okay.
Shala learned nothing was lost when emotions exploded. Love remained. Even after tears, anger, and sickness, she was still held, still protected, still deeply loved. That night, peace returned slowly, teaching trust, patience, and safety beyond fear always.
