Baby Selena finished her bottle faster than anyone expected.
The moment the last drop slipped away, her eyes widened with shock, confusion, and disappointment. She pulled the empty bottle closer, shaking it softly, hoping more milk would magically appear. But nothing came. Not a single drop.
Her tiny lips curved downward, trembling.
Then came the soft whimper.
Then another.
And finally—
“Mommy…!” her little cry echoed through the room, filled with urgency and desperate hunger.
Mom turned quickly, already knowing that sound too well. Selena reached both hands toward her, tiny fingers opening and closing in pleading motions. Her eyes glistened with tears as she pressed the empty bottle against her chest like proof of her suffering.
Mom kneeled beside her, but Selena wasn’t patient this time.
She pushed the bottle closer to Mom’s hand, insisting, begging, demanding with all the strength her tiny body had left.
Her cries grew louder, filled with more emotion than her small lungs should hold. She leaned forward, burying her face into Mom’s arm, desperate for comfort—and even more desperate for more milk.
Mom gently stroked her back, whispering soft words, but Selena wouldn’t calm.
Not yet.
Not until her belly was full again.
Mom began preparing another warm bottle. Selena watched every movement, eyes locked, heart racing. Each second felt too long. She kicked her feet, slapped her hands on the floor, and let out tiny frustrated grunts as if urging Mom to hurry.
Finally, the bottle was ready.
The moment it touched her lips, Selena grabbed it with both hands, pulling it close as if afraid it might disappear again. Her cries faded instantly into soft, satisfied sucking sounds. Her body relaxed, tiny shoulders sinking as warmth filled her belly.
By the last sip, her eyes softened, half-closing with relief.
Selena wasn’t just fed—
She was safe, comforted, and back in Mommy’s arms where she belonged.
