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#goat milk formula
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my fave milks r soy and oat in that order i grew up on soy bc i am lactose intolerant and oat milk is delicious in cooking and baked goods
coconut milk is also nice but i tend to only have it in curries and fruit-based drinks/goods...flax milk is also tasty but the severely bitter aftertaste is offputting so i rarely drink it. ummm.. the only cows milk that i will willingly drink on its own (nothing added) is lactose free bc it is sweet enough to mask the milk taste
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lionsoulhomestead · 2 years
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Hello! This is Saphire, we believe her to be an Alpine dairy goat (she could be something else or a mix) anyways she should roughly produce 2 gallons per day if our breed guess is correct and at her peak of milking. For those of you whom don't know goats usually don't have the exact same amount of milk production the entire time they're in milk, some have more after their first or even second kidding (kidding means they had babies). My biggest point to this post is that goat milk is naturally lactose free, yeah, you heard me right lactose free. I personal have had babies that were born seemingly lactose intolerant, they were given soy formula by the advice of their pediatrician. Well as I got older and did my research soy is the plant equivalent of one of women's natural hormones estrogen - in some cases it can cause male humans sperm count to drop, and if prolonged use it can cause infertility. My son used soy formula for roughly the entire 1st year of his life, I now know it "could" have an effect on his body. I wish goat milk would have been around more so than (in my area) and that I would have known about its benefits. Any mothers needing to use formula, might want to try to buy local goat milk or look into if powdered goat milk could be a good option for their child even if were not in a formula shortage by the time, you're reading this. I think all of us mothers or fathers agree we just want to raise our children well and give them all of the best possibilities to grow strong and healthy! I'll leave you with this last thought, after reading this find out if its legal to sell goat milk in your county or state raw or pasteurized and if the answer is no (its illegal) think about contacting your county and state representative to change this matter. So, if were ever in a shortage again, we won't be having to scurry to possibly change a law, because it will already have been a fixed problem. Also talk to them about allowing farmers and homesteaders to be allowed to sell these products from their farm/homestead as well as farmers and flea markets, and last but not least stores and restaurants. Everyone deserves access to good quality homegrown products / byproducts from hardworking local farmers and homesteaders, together we can help each other.
Thank you for reading until the end, I truly appreciate any and all support for our homestead and other homesteads and farmers.
Have a wonderful day!
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euromallusa · 27 days
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Gentle Nourishment: Jovie Goat Milk Formula Selection
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royalausnzaustralia · 1 month
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Searching for the best goat milk infant formula? Look right here! Royal AUSNZ offers top-notch quality for your little one's needs. Try it out and see the difference!
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alicesara611 · 6 months
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Goat Milk Infant Formula Market Forecast: Growth Opportunities Ahead By 2023 to 2030
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The global goat milk infant formula market size was valued at US$ 1167.1 million in 2023 and is forecast to reach US$ 2147.8 million by 2030, exhibiting a CAGR of 10.7% during the forecast period.
The market growth is attributed to the increasing awareness of the health benefits of goat milk, such as its higher digestibility, lower lactose content, and hypoallergenic properties. Goat milk is also a good source of vitamins, minerals, and proteins, which are essential for the growth and development of infants.
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Another key driver of the market growth is the rising demand for goat milk infant formula from parents who are looking for natural and healthy alternatives to cow milk infant formula. Goat milk infant formula is also becoming increasingly popular among parents of infants with allergies or sensitivities to cow milk.
The Asia Pacific region is expected to be the fastest-growing market for goat milk infant formula during the forecast period. This is due to the growing population of infants in the region, as well as the rising awareness of the health benefits of goat milk.
Factors driving the growth of the goat milk infant formula market:
There are a number of factors driving the growth of the goat milk infant formula market, including:
Increasing awareness of the benefits of goat milk: Goat milk is a good source of protein, calcium, and other nutrients that are essential for the growth and development of infants. It is also easier to digest than cow's milk, making it a good option for babies with lactose intolerance or other digestive problems.
Rising demand for natural and organic products: Goat milk infant formula is often perceived as being more natural and organic than cow's milk-based formula, which is appealing to many parents.
Growing disposable income: As disposable incomes rise, parents are more willing to spend money on premium products, such as goat milk infant formula.
Key Takeaways:
The global goat milk infant formula market is expected to grow at a CAGR of 10.7% from 2023 to 2030. This growth is being driven by a number of factors, including:
Increasing awareness of the health benefits of goat milk formula, such as its easier digestibility and lower lactose content.
Rising disposable incomes and increasing urbanization, which are leading to a growing demand for premium and specialized infant formulas.
Growing awareness of food allergies and intolerances, which is leading to a growing demand for hypoallergenic and lactose-free infant formulas.
Regional Outlook:
The Asia Pacific region is expected to be the largest and fastest-growing market for goat milk infant formula over the forecast period. This growth is being driven by factors such as the increasing prevalence of food allergies and intolerances, rising disposable incomes, and growing awareness of the health benefits of goat milk formula.
Other key regional markets for goat milk infant formula include North America and Europe. The North American market is expected to grow at a steady pace over the forecast period, driven by factors such as the increasing prevalence of food allergies and intolerances, and the growing popularity of goat milk products. The European market is expected to witness moderate growth over the forecast period, driven by factors such as the rising disposable incomes and increasing awareness of the health benefits of goat milk formula.
Key Players:
Some of the key players in the global goat milk infant formula market include:
Ausnutria
DGC
Danone
Kabrita
Nannycare
Nestle
Saint-Allet
The a2 Milk Company
Trifecta Nutrition
Segmentation:
The global goat milk infant formula market can be segmented by type, distribution channel, and region.
By type:
First class (0~6 months)
Second class (6~12 months)
Third class (1~3 years)
By distribution channel:
Supermarkets (hypermarkets)
Retail stores
Online selling
By region:
North America
Europe
Asia Pacific
Latin America
Middle East and Africa
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babymercato · 1 year
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Hipp Baby Formula: A Natural and Gentle Approach to Feeding Your Baby | Baby Mercato
Introducing the Gentle and Natural Way to Feed Your Baby!
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Make the switch now to Hipp Baby Formula for a gentler and more natural approach to feeding your baby.
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industrydatamarket · 2 years
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Goat Milk Infant Formula Market size, industry outlook and forecast for 2028
The global “Goat Milk Infant Formula Market” report 2022 highlights all of the dynamic elements affecting key growth factors, as well as the most recent trends and developments in the global industry. It gives a complete understanding of key manufacturers’ business development plans, current industry condition, growth areas, and future scope. The Goat Milk Infant Formula market research seeks to give regional development, market driving factors, and sales revenue. With numerous research approaches such as SWOT and PESTLE analysis, it provides extensive research and analysis of key elements and emphasizes current market circumstances. In addition, the study contains valuable information on global players’ future plans and possibilities.
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In accordance with the Goat Milk Infant Formula market is set to grow at a CAGR of 8.2% over a forecast period (2022-2028).
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buildingpappysdream · 2 years
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A Recipe for Hope in the Baby Formula Shortage
A Recipe for Hope in the Baby Formula Shortage
You may remember my post, the 6 Most Useful Farm Animals, from March. One of the animals I listed as a contender for residency on our homestead was goats. Well, fast forward three months, and the goats are proving useful again. This time, goat milk is the answer to the crisis. The Backstory Kid 3.0 joined our family in the fall of 2021. Knowing that a physical abnormality keeps me from…
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Goat Milk Infant Formula Market 2022 – Competition Landscape and Growth Opportunity, Analysis and Demand by 2026
The report titled Goat Milk Infant Formula Market offers detailed insights on the Goat Milk Infant Formula industry entailing key information on its different market segments. The report gives an industry overview from around the world and covers the latest trends, technology breakthroughs, market restraints, and investment opportunities, and conducts exclusive interviews of the Goat Milk Infant Formula industry leaders to contribute to the report’s findings. The report discusses the buyers’ requirements and suggests strategic actions & business changes accordingly to the market players. Moreover, the natural, internal, and external barriers to progress are given in the report. The wider business environment of the Goat Milk Infant Formula market and the industry challenges are included in the report.
Read Full Report at: 
Growth prospects, leading trends, progress projections, key industries, and business innovations are the primary focus of the Goat Milk Infant Formula study. A comprehensive Goat Milk Infant Formula study is available for a number of key areas involved in the report. Furthermore, the Goat Milk Infant Formula study examines present and potential consumer positions in terms of sales based on market goods around the globe.
Key Players in the Goat Milk Infant Formula Technology market:
DGC, Ausnutria Dairy, Baiyue Youlishi, YaTai-Precious, Red Star, Guan Shan, MilkGoat, Herds, Fineboon, Jinniu, Shengfei, ShengTang, Holle, FIT, Vitagermine, Xi Yang Yang, Baiyue Diary Group
Goat Milk Infant Formula Market Types:
First Class (0~6 months)
Second Class (6~12 months)
Third Class (1~3 years)
Goat Milk Infant Formula Market Applications:
Supermarkets/Hypermarkets
Retail Stores
Online Selling
Highlights of the Report:
The report gives information on all the active tenders in the Goat Milk Infant Formula industry across the globe based on different categories. The important government notifications and change in regulations according to the latest updates is provided in the report.
The market size and forecast estimates of the Goat Milk Infant Formula market is given in the report considering the economic, financial, and general business conditions prevailing in the Goat Milk Infant Formula market from 2022 to 2026.
The report demonstrates the contribution of each segment and sector in the improvement of Goat Milk Infant Formula market share, market size, and CAGR.
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Regional Goat Milk Infant Formula Market (Regional Output, Demand & Forecast by Countries):
North America (United States, Canada, Mexico) South America (Brazil, Argentina, Ecuador, Chile) Asia Pacific (China, Japan, India, Korea) Europe (Germany, UK, France, Italy) Middle East Africa (Egypt, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Iran) And more.
Why Purchase This Market Research Report:
Critical issues and challenges the Goat Milk Infant Formula market will be facing in the forecasted years are identified in the report to help market players align their business decisions and strategies accordingly.
The report identifies key trends facing the Goat Milk Infant Formula market.
Trends responsible for global and regional economic growth of the Goat Milk Infant Formula market are highlighted in the report to help market players in a critical understanding of the future of the Goat Milk Infant Formula market.
The report conducts an assessment of the production and operational practices taking place in the marketplace.
The report presents the challenges faced by the leading geographies and nations from the pandemic and their reorientation of policies to survive the market.
The Report Attempts to Answer the Following Questions:
What will be the financial performance of North America, APAC, Europe, and Africa in the Goat Milk Infant Formula market in 2022 and beyond?
Which companies are likely to succeed in the Goat Milk Infant Formula market with the help of foreign companies, mergers and acquisitions, new product launches, and technological innovation?
What are the strategy recommendation and business models for emerging market players?
Which are the Goat Milk Infant Formula market’s largest manufacturing firms and most competitive firms?
Thanks for showing interest in the Goat Milk Infant Formula Market research publication; you can also get individual chapter-wise sections or region / Country report versions like Germany, France, China, LATAM, GCC, North America, Europe, or Asia.
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cumminghypnosis · 2 years
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Baby Formula
1 can of goat milk1 cup of water2 scoops of creatine1 scoop of whey protein isolatevanilla for flavor
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chrisevansonly · 4 months
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𝐖𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬
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𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐧𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s the holiday season in monaco, but after news broke that arthur wouldn’t be back to F2 or Ferrari Driver Academy, he’s worried that you’ll be just as disappointed as the world is…
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: slight angst, mostly just arthur feeling a bit down, but very fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: my first arthur blurb🥹🥹 i just thought of this the other night and wanted to write a little something, it’s just a teeny one but i hope you enjoy!!
🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄
When the news broke that Arthur wouldn’t be returning to F2 it took over the internet by storm, opinions coming in from left and right, negative and positive. Arthur felt a bit overwhelmed, and was anxious to talk to you about it, you’d been one of the most constant forms of happiness and support in his life, since he started F2 to now.
He didn’t want to disappoint you.
“Baby, you’ve been really quiet all night…does this have anything to do with all that news online?”
Arthur didn’t want to be so reserved and down on the first night you flew in to spend Christmas with him and his family, he had plans to take you to dinner later, see the Christmas lights around Monaco and here he was not his normal laughing self
“I love you…I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me..” your voice was soft as you leaned over to kiss his cheek, your heart squeezing at the sadness behind his eyes
“I just-I don’t want you to be upset or disappointed with me”
Your brows furrowed, not understanding what he would be talking about
“Arthur I’d never be disappointed in you baby…”
“But i’m not racing next year…i’m just-I don’t know..I don’t want you to be upset with me”
Frowning you squeezed his hands gently
“Arthur I love you so much, it doesn’t matter if you’re a formula racing driver or if you were an english teacher or hell lived on a tiny farm and milking goats for the rest of your life”
He couldn’t hold back the laugh that spilled from his lips at the sound of that
“My point is, I wouldn’t love you less just because life is taking a different course and you’re not racing anymore, I love you for you, not for your career my love…and that will never change, I’m so proud of you always”
“Promise..?”
His voice was quiet, almost afraid to ask
“I pinky promise, i’ve been here to support you since day one, and I’ll continue to support you for as long as you’ll have me”
Arthur smiled bringing you in for a kiss before pulling you into his side, it might have been news that wasn’t the best to announce during the holidays, but he knew you’d have his back through anything.
It didn’t matter if he never raced again, you’d be by his side no matter what, he knew that deep down, but hearing the reassurance come from you was enough to settle the racing thoughts in his head, you knew just as much he’d do the same for you, always having your back when you needed it.
The only thing he’d never have your back on is Christmas baking, because just like his brother Charles, he was useless in the kitchen.
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ladytesla · 3 months
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Cowboy Halsin
I saw @aerynwrites musing about how Halsin would be as a cowboy or rancher. I thought I'd throw in my two cents, since I live on a farm myself.
There's more to it than just seeing Halsin speaking softly to horses, as awesome a sight as that would be. There's more to living out in the country than horses, believe me. This kind of morphed into Country Halsin and not Cowboy Halsin, but I hope y'all like it anyway. Let's go through a day in the life, shall we?
Halsin would probably be up before dawn, kissing your cheek before getting out of bed as carefully as possible, trying not to wake you. You have your own goals to accomplish today, he wants to let you wake up on your own.
Besides, he loves the stillness just before the sun rises. The nocturnal creatures are seeking their nests and burrows, the diurnal ones have yet to wake. This solitary commune with nature is one of the highlights of his day, listening to the wind in the leaves, the crickets and the frogs. It is a very referent time of morning that seems to stretch for ages and at the same time end far too soon.
As he reaches the barn, the day officially begins. Animals need to be fed. Mostly they graze in the pasture, but some need special treatment. An old swaybacked mare needs a little something extra to keep her weight up. Maybe there's a colt who managed to hurt himself somehow, and the wound needs to be tended to. Maybe it's cold outside, so he throws out alfalfa with the hay. Alfalfa is also called 'hot hay' because it raises an animal's body temperature, which is a great trick for winter.
He speaks to the horses as he works, maybe fondly berating the colt for being so clumsy in his excitement, or encouraging the mare to eat everything he's set out for her, smoothing a large hand down her side and smiling to himself when he feels her ribs much more faintly than he used to. One of the horses who is usually waiting in the mornings isn't there... that's a bit odd. He'll turn up eventually. The chickens milling around outside have heard his voice and know The One Who Feeds Them has arrived, so they peek around and wander into the barn themselves, waiting very impatiently. The goats in another small paddock nearby are just as impatient. They start yelling and bleating as if they're starving to death and He Is A Cruel And Unjust Father And They Are Going To Scream.
He likes hearing the chickens chatter as he scatters out feed for them. They don't have anything of real importance to say, but they never stop talking. Mostly it's "Food! Food! Food! Bug? Food! Scratch. Peck. Scratch. Bug!" in a dozen warbling little voices. He brought a bag of veggie scraps from last night's dinner with him to throw to the goats, which stops them yelling. "I don't think the neighbors heard you yet," he would say dryly as he throws hay to them as well. Sometimes they headbutt each other for access to the best morsels, and while he wants to prevent this to keep anyone from getting injured, he knows it's in their nature. He keeps an eye on the smallest and oldest, however, making sure they get their fair share. The twin kids born last week toddle after their mother like baby ducks. It seems like she has enough milk for both of them, though he still has powdered formula and bottles from the last kidding season, just in case they're needed once more.
Now that everyone's been fed, it's time to walk the fences, looking for that missing horse in the process. A lesser known but very important job when it comes to country life. Any breaks could not only let animals out, but predators in. He'd keep an eye out for signs of predators nearby. He hasn't seen any today, but he heard coyotes crying out in the darkness the night before. By this time of morning, though, he has company. You've made your appearance, bleary-eyed and handing him an insulated cup of coffee. You're already on your second.
The fog from earlier hasn't been burned off completely by the sun yet. It's a quiet time for the two of you to walk the property lines together. Halsin is a bit concerned about that horse. He hasn't shown up yet. Soon, though, he sees a silhouette in the last bits of fog, and sighs with relief. The horse isn't lying down from illness, he's just... trapped. The two of you look at this big strong chestnut gelding, eyes rolling and sides heaving, barricaded in the corner of the pasture because... there's a rabbit in the way. A fat little gray-brown bunny, nibbling delicately at the grass without a care in the world. Truly a terrifying sight to behold.
"Arthur we've spoken about this," Halsin sighs as he walks closer to the horse. "Rabbits can't hurt you. They eat plants, and they're tiny. Look!"
Still, Arthur isn't convinced. Halsin soothes him, stroking his nose and smiling to himself at the absurdity of it.
"My heart," he glances to you, "please convince our visitor to release Arthur."
You smile as you shuffle closer to the rabbit, gently shooing it back through the fence. Now that Arthur is out of mortal peril, he happily walks off towards the barn.
"They're majestic creatures," Halsin admits, "but sometimes..." He shakes his head, then keeps walking the fence. "Come on, my love... we're only halfway."
~~~
A round bale is delivered around lunchtime. The thing is as tall as you and just as wide and weighs an ungodly amount. But it needs to go out into the pasture somehow. Moving a round bale is a two-person job. Your job is to hold the gate open and keep the curious horses at bay... and to watch as Halsin, sleeves rolled up and muscles bulging, easily rolls it into the paddock as though it weighs nothing. He barely has time to set the feeder ring around it before the horses are nosing greedily at the fresh hay.
"I wish I could help more," you say as you close the gate.
"You help plenty," he replies, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Besides..." There's a faint glint of mischief in his eyes. "I've flattered myself into thinking you like to watch."
You grin and say he's being ridiculous, but you both know the truth.
~~~
As active a man as he is, Halsin isn't content to spend the heat of the day indoors. There are still so many things to be done. Bird feeders to fill. Eggs to collect from the chickens. The vegetable garden to water and weed. Water troughs to top up. Finally, there's a little time to take a break. Sometimes you have other things on your schedule, but today you decide to join him. The two of you find a shady spot under a tree and settle in with a book, some whittling, perhaps a snack, and you let yourselves get lost in nature. The afternoon sounds are different from the early morning ones. There are no crickets or frogs, no reverent stillness. Now there are raucous little songbirds fighting over birdseed, the chatter of a squirrel, the crow of the rooster, maybe even the far-off braying of a neighbor's donkey a quarter mile away. The windchimes you hung from the back porch. And underneath it all, the wind humming in the trees. Halsin leans back against the rough bark of the tree, closes his eyes, and feels the undercurrent of life running through all things. You can't help but admire the sheer expression of peace and happiness on his face, and set your little diversions aside to lean your head on his shoulder. His arm instictively wraps around you to pull you closer against him, and you enjoy simply existing as part of nature for a while.
~~~
The sun is about to set, casting mile-long shadows and lighting up the fields like gold. It's nearing time to go inside and help make dinner. But first the old mare and the colt need to be tended to once more. Another helping of special feed for the mare, sequestering her in her stall so that she can eat in peace without a certain someone (whose name may or may not be Arthur} attempting to share. The colt's wound is healing nicely, and Halsin digs in his pocket for a cookie in exchange for the colt standing still enough to be treated. He tosses another cookie to Arthur who protests that he too needs special food because he is a special boy.
He comes inside to clean up and help with dinner. He'll need to go back out in an hour or so to let the mare out of her stall, but in the meantime he's happy to be in your company as you maneuver around each other in the kitchen. If you're cooking, it may be a bit difficult with those big arms around you from behind. The two of you have been busy all day, and now that you're done with your work, he has decided to make things a little difficult.
"Love, please, I need to get to the spice cabinet." "I can reach it just fine. Tell me what you need."
"Halsin, I can't work with you right behind me like this!" "I fail to see how this is a problem, my heart. I'm having a wonderful time."
Halsin is normally a mild-mannered type, but his sense of humor sneaks out in sly ways from time to time. At least he hasn't broken out the horrible puns yet. And you have to admit, it's nice to be able to feel his deep voice resonate against your back.
Halsin is ready to sleep when it's time for bed (as long as you are too, of course. He's always up for 'extracurricular activities' if the mood is right). "We did well today, my heart," he says quietly in the darkness, pulling you close. "Pleasant dreams." He can hear the faint sounds of frogs and crickets outside your window, and that coupled with your soft breathing is enough to lull him into a deep sleep.
Was it a long day full of hard work? Yes.
Would he trade away any of it? Never.
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royalausnzaustralia · 2 months
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Give your baby the nourishment they deserve with Royal AUSNZ Best Infant Milk Powder – the perfect choice for happy, healthy beginnings. Explore our range today and experience the difference for yourself!
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eldritch-spouse · 1 year
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Imaging a baby mushroom rolling around 🫠😩So cute! Would we be able to have more headcanons on having a baby with Morell? Would the baby be raised at the Clergy?
[Adding onto this post basically.]
More kid headcanons with Morell
The baby most likely would not be raised in The Clergy's Eye. As a worker there, Morell knows firsthand how dangerous the place is and the sights you'll find there. Nothing a kid should see. Luckily, he never got rid of his cabin, he's got very supportive parents and a friend who's more than ready to babysit if need be. This is good for you, because it means you'll be actually getting fresh air and not just growing mentally exhausted by The Clergy's ambiance.
Morell's never been that much of a worrywart, but you'll never see him as panicked as he is when you're having your cesarean. The shroom was tense enough to break the chair's armrest in the waiting room. He's just... If anything went wrong, he wouldn't forgive himself.
The moment doctors find out his child is the poisonous kind like him, your pregnancy is considered one of high-risk, and you'll have to take certain types of medication to prevent getting poisoned yourself. These, of course, won't affect the baby itself. This has him very on edge as well, but it doesn't show usually.
If there's one thing that baby's going to be, it's hungry. Really hungry. Everyone in Morell's family is big and eats well- Your appetite during the pregnancy was absurd because of this little bugger, and now you're going to have to deal with your kid wailing in hunger every hour or so. It's ridiculous, but Morell assures you that's just how it is. You're never going to have enough milk for them, even the chef knows this, so he stocks up on the best brands of formula he can find.
Bernice is going to wordlessly, solemnly pat your back one day when she finds you breastfeeding her grandchild. You won't understand the look of pity until your kid's teeth develop and they bite your poor pepperonis so fucking hard you bleat like a goat. Feel free to crush Morell's hand while you endure this.
Speaking of teeth, most monster babies need a lot of oral stimulus, so get some sturdy pacifiers asap.
Once again, don't freak out if you see Morell rolling the baby around. They need to learn, you know? He'll sit you down on one corner of the room and sit on the opposite one with the baby, then roll them towards you. You'll go back and forth a couple of times before the baby starts doing it on their own. Much later on, you'll have to do the same thing but for crawling, as they'll need to grow out of that phase fast when their cap begin becoming more proportionate.
Speaking of the cap, that's something you have to pay a lot of attention to as a parent. The health of a shroomling is often determined by the state of their cap (in adults as well, but to a lesser degree). Make sure it's always hydrated, moderately spongy, and has no odd growths or discoloration. Morell will teach you how to palp properly.
It's probably really funny seeing your kid toddle after Morell, following daddy into the kitchen so they can watch him cook like a confused donkey in a desert. Morell probably has all sorts of photos of them trying different things and reacting to the taste.
At some point, your kid will assume your hair is actually your cap, and you'll find their dad wheezing on the floor as they ask what's wrong with mommy's fluffy cap.
No matter how much you protest, Morell has it in his head that the kiddo will have to learn to either do wood carvings or set traps. Those are family skills and he's not giving them up.
Even if they're a hybrid, you should expect your kid to be quite taller and possibly broader than you. A result of their hybrid nature will likely show in them having a lighter face, as opposed to the purebred shroom's usually pitch black "head". They'll likely also have a much more manageable, smaller cap.
Onto the less pretty side of things, you will have to fight tooth and nail if you'd like the kid to not eat humans. Morell and his family will be upset by this, but you have some room to argue here, given that the kid has human genes, meaning it really would be a form of cannibalism and could bring about negative consequences. It's best not to let them get a taste to begin with, they might be too much like daddy and enjoy it.
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industrydatamarket · 2 years
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Goat Milk Infant Formula Market size, industry outlook and forecast for 2028
The global “Goat Milk Infant Formula Market” report 2022 highlights all of the dynamic elements affecting key growth factors, as well as the most recent trends and developments in the global industry. It gives a complete understanding of key manufacturers’ business development plans, current industry condition, growth areas, and future scope. The Goat Milk Infant Formula market research seeks to give regional development, market driving factors, and sales revenue. With numerous research approaches such as SWOT and PESTLE analysis, it provides extensive research and analysis of key elements and emphasizes current market circumstances. In addition, the study contains valuable information on global players’ future plans and possibilities.
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In accordance with the Goat Milk Infant Formula market is set to grow at a CAGR of 8.2% over a forecast period (2022-2028).
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Still beating
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What - dealing with grief as the dust finally starts to settle. Dealing with grief regarding one specific character's death in particular. You know the one.
Genre - heavier, but we get devoted husband/father Daryl out of the mix. And we don't end the chapter on a bummer, never fear. This ain't a French movie, slowpokes
Relationships - wife Reader and husband Daryl as well as your baby. Familial affection with Rick, and that balance between friend and clergy for Father Gabriel.
Perspective - 3rd POV Daryl, and 2nd POV You
Pronouns - she/her
When - time jump! we've briefly hopped to post season 8, pre season 9 (but before The best kind of damn weird). This chapter takes place during the earlier phases of recovery and rebuilding after the war. The previous chapter, Scary as a sleepy kitten, took place during season 2.
TWs - grief, PTSD (including after SA), depression, self-loathing, and some cussing. This chapter is also kinda lengthy, friends, and had to have exposition. (Might should've sliced the chapter in half, but then we'd have another two-parter on our hands :P)
But how long though? - ...20 minutes or so?
Story references and Masterlist link? - under the cut
And is there a pic at the end as a prize for finishing? - yes :D
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Have fun and happy reading!
References to other chapters - what we learned in The Interview. There is also grieving/anger as seen in The first Christmas 'without' Part 2 and its conclusion in I don't hate you, a happy reference to Happy 8th of July!, reference to those lovely tugging strings as found in Invisible Tugging Strings, Part 1 and Part 2 (Part 2 I reckon is still glitched and showing as labeled mature, the poor thing's been cleared about 7ish times via help ticket XD ).
There are a lot more details you might recognize, pop on by to the Official Masterlist here, or for those who prefer linear over non-linear, the Chronological Slowpoke Masterlist here
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Still beating
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She was doing real bad. The past few days had been especially bad. Grief has nasty ways of settling in and rearing its ugly head.
He didn’t know too much about what to do to help her, he’d never been good at that stuff. And there was no fixing all that happened, especially not when the last thing that happened was the worst thing that could’ve.
Other than if TJ or Judith died, it was the worst thing. And part of his wife died right alongside Carl.
Hell, she’d been the one to wait after Carl died, then turned, to pull the trigger.
Now, she felt dead, too.
Gabe had to suggest that she check her pulse when it got bad enough.
Just then, TJ started to wriggle and hum in an attempt to root at Daryl's bicep, which pulled him out of his worry for a second.
Gently, he began to bounce to try and keep his baby lulled. He knows Y/N wanted to breastfeed only to get her production up (and so TJ’s suckle could get stronger after the surgery), but Y/N was finally asleep.
Beginning with when Denise was killed, Y/N hadn’t been making as much as she first had. Then, the Saviors stopped the RV and surrounded them, and Negan did what he did. Then Daryl himself got taken away, then there was all the fighting.
And then Carl died.
Getting her milk to come back had been proving damned hard.
A handful of not-very-good times, they’d supplemented what milk she did make with watered-down formula and/or watered-down goat's milk.
One very bad time, they’d used sugar water to fill the babies’ bellies until Jesus got back with goat's milk. Just the one time they had to use sugar water, everybody made damn sure of that.
For now, Daryl could crack into what was still left of the goat's milk in the cooler, right? The two women in the Kingdom who had little guys had sent over actual breast milk with Carol a few days ago, but it was used up yesterday. That stuff had been a God-send, he couldn’t thank the ladies enough.
Between the two babies in Alexandria, TJ and Gracie, everyone had to be smart about using what formula was left. And given that the power got cut, keeping the goat's milk fresh was another problem, hence the cooler.
There was still a shit ton of clean-up had since the Saviors nabbed Alexandria’s storage, then firebombed the town. To make things worse, those assholes had their own compound destroyed, and Hilltop and the Kingdom got screwed, too. Even the beach women took another beating. Hell, and them junkyard people were literally all fucking gone except their leader chick.
So, Y/N breastfed the two babies as much she was physically able because there was no other option right now, all while working as the only other doc left standing in all five communities; she was running herself into the ground.
And with Carl gone…
It ain’t fair that she couldn’t make enough — it was Negan’s goddamned fault.
Which leads to what just went on: so Mich had told him, Y/N’d lashed out at Negan and the new doctor kid with the facial hair, what was his name, Sidney?
Daryl hadn’t been at the infirmary when it happened, but, according to Mich, she’d had to pull her out of the room. Once out, Y/N asked her about TJ, Judith, and Gracie to make sure they were safe, then disappeared after Mich had turned around. Straight up and bolted.
Daryl had checked the escape-closet first, but she wasn’t in there or the attic it connected to, wasn't on the roof that lead to.
He’d then checked the burned church. She’d been there, he recognized her boot prints, but she'd moved on. From there, he was able to follow her sooty tracks in the direction of the place he should’ve known to check first.
Sure enough, Y/N'd been at Carl’s grave.
His wife could barely look at him when he approached. He'd simply kissed her on the head and quietly walked her back home. Once home, he'd cleaned and bandaged her hand while she, again, tried to pump enough for TJ and Gracie.
Mich had told Daryl she’d get Rick for her, so he’d be here soon.
Daryl wracked his brain, he even prayed to learn what do to try to help carry Y/N through this shit.
At first, Y/N’d been pacing around the room, crying but trying not to, arms wrapped around her picture frame with a photo of Carl in it as if it was the only thing keeping her afloat.
He'd been able to persuade her to lay down, and ended up laying in bed with her and holding her tight, TJ next to them in little bassinet.
Initially, him holding her and pressing kisses to her neck had made her feel worse. More guilty, that is. A handful of days ago, something got into her head that she needed to give him a damn "annulment."
Nah, for real, she’d even said (to Gabe) that the two of them not having ever done the deed yet was "grounds" to give him one. “Grounds to free him,” were her exact words. It was a whole thing, and the couple of failed attempts at trying to do the deed after getting hitched some months back probably made her feel worse.
Father Gabriel had Daryl's back the whole time during the conversation, though, decent dude.
And no, Daryl wasn’t angry or even real hurt that she’d thought she had to ‘free him’ and shit, he knows it was the grief and physical exhaustion that got her to that point. His woman had full-on blacked out and hurt herself that day, which is why he'd brought her to Gabe in the first place.
But the, um, the walls were thinner than Daryl had expected, which is how he overheard from the person that he was gonna love and stay with and stay faithful to until he dropped dead softly confess that she was “selfish” to keep him “stuck” with a “batshit m-mess” like her and “a baby that ain’t his.”
The fact that Y/N kept maintaining how much she loved him and how she didn’t want no annulment helped it hurt less when she’d sounded just about convinced that it was “loyalty to me ’cause we’re close, loyalty to Rick,” and because of “he’s got so much shame. He feels responsible for what the Claimers did,” that made him marry her those months ago. "He loves our ch—my child, and might love me, but it's not fair to him. He deserves better, h-he needs better, the man's been trapped all his life. I-I don't want him trapped, I want him happy!"
Gabe never played into her fears. He been no nonsense about all of it, told Y/N that she needed a damn rest, and asked her to tell him what she thought about it when she woke up.
The good thing was that after a 5 hour period of uninterrupted sleep (during which they used some of the goat's milk for TJ and Gracie), she woke up in a daze at why she’d thought an annulment was something Daryl needed or wanted.
The bad thing was, she was then socked in the gut with more unearned guilt for it, then with worry that she was too far gone, or crazy, all that.
Been a bad, bad few days.
Been a lot of Daryl showing her love that she felt not worth being shown. So that she fell asleep in his arms today was such a damn win!
After getting up to take a leak and finding that Y/N was miraculously still asleep, he thanked whoever was up there, then tried to figure out what else he could do to help her get through today…and right at that moment, TJ started to rouse, so he got his answer: keep their baby comforted. More shut-eye could only do his woman well.
Deftly lifting the little bundle into his arms, he'd kissed the scar above the baby’s upper lip and tiptoed out to the hall, where he was now.
Lightly he bounced, softly he shushed. He held TJ like a football and moved back and forth, back and forth. Babies smell so damn good, and make the cutest damn noises!
After a couple minutes, through the open door, he peeked at his Y/N.
Shit. She was already sitting up and blinking off the sleep.
Whatever it was she did and said today, she felt low as hell about it, that much was clear. Without looking, she grabbed the now-broken picture frame and clutched it to her middle.
"You're supposed to be asleep, slowpoke," he tried to tease.
Her clothes had ashes from where it looked like she’d knelt down then sat down in the burned church. There was some dirt on them, too, from when she’d been at Carl’s grave. Daryl made a note to shake the sheets out later and pick the tissues up off the floor.
That's when the front door opened downstairs.
Was that Ri—good, that was Rick’s voice, he was finally there. There was a second voice, too, was that Father Gabriel’s? It was soft like Gabe's voice was.
Daryl looked downstairs.
Yup, it was Rick with the rev.
He waved them upstairs, but it must’ve been the clunking of the Gabriel’s new cane that got Y/N stumbling out of the room.
“Rev! I would’ve come to you, y-you need to be takin’ it easy.” She hugged the picture frame in one hand, gripped the banister in the other and started to go downstairs, asking Gabe how he felt, urging him to sit down, had his vision worsened, all that stuff.
“Y/N, more rest won’t stop me from losing sight in this eye,” Gabriel responded in his quiet way, remaining on the second step, not going up or down the stairs. He smiled. “You could say I’m the one making a house call to a patient this time."
She held back a sob and bowed her head. Then, she subtly slipped two fingers around the inside of her wrist…
Rick stepped the rest of the way up the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders. “What's going on, weirdo?”
“Ricky, I'm s-sorry."
He leaned closer and took her in for a hug. “Heart still beating?” he murmured.
Her inhale was shaky. “Mmhm. Yours?”
“Beating strong.”
TJ perked up and began to whimper upon hearing her voice. Y/N unzipped her hoodie to—she still had a gun on her?
Okay, that'd been stealth as fuck, it hadn't even been printing. He'd been literally holding her, how had he not noticed?
Daryl shared a glance with Gabe. Minus her screwdriver, she'd turned in her weapons after what happened the other day.
Y/N handed the small gun to Rick, who looked wary, but accepted it without question. She hesitated before reaching into her boot to hand over her screwdriver, too.
Daryl slid his hand around his wife’s waist to guide her back to the room. Without looking him in the eyes, she cupped his cheek and told him he was a good father. Then, frame still gripped under one arm, she took the baby into the other.
“Let’s try havin’ a snack before I go with Uncle Ricky awhile, okay, chickpea?” she murmured, then unbuttoned the top of her shirt.
Daryl took off his vest to give her some more coverage. When he draped the vest around her, she turned her head to kiss his hand. He felt his cheeks warm when she did that.
Walking into the room again, she softly told Daryl that he and Rick could sit on the beds. First, she placed the picture frame on one of the mattresses. Next, she took TJ and went beside the end table at the window to sit down on the floor beside it. The way she sat, it was kinda as if she were using it as a shield.
“Rev, please take the chair,” she mumbled to Gabriel with a glance at the only piece of furniture in the room at the time, other than the bassinet, a nightstand, and the end table. Negan had specifically left the rocking chair as a 'gift' for her. The piece of shit...
Anyway, Daryl had got them their two twin mattresses back (hey, squish them together and you get a big-ass bed) the first trip to and from the Savior’s compound after the war ended, once the Alexandrians had begun to move back from the Hilltop. Only, no bed frames yet.
“And sweetheart, I’ll-I’ll take the pumps with me for while I’m in there. Wanna make sure you and Aaron have enough for them,” she said to him, voice still raw. Y/N turned to him and gave him a wobbly smile. “Sorry I used up so much of the tissue supply,” she tried making light, but got close to tears again, so stumbled through asking “Can I, um, Rick, m-might can I bring my pillow? Is that okay?”
Go with Rick where, and take the breast pumps and her pillow, why? He made eye contact with Gabriel, who looked just as puzzled. So, he turned to Rick.
Rick lowered his eyebrows as if he didn’t know what she meant, either. He squatted to sit down on the mattress beside Daryl, and looked at his sister. “Y/N, where are we headed?”
Glancing up from the baby to him then to Daryl, she adjusted TJ’s position on her breast while she figured out how to answer, by the looks of it. Another glance at her husband as if she were worried about his reaction...
“Rick, I thought you was here to…escort me?”
?
Daryl had no clear idea what she meant, it was the rev who understood first.
“No,” Father Gabriel told her gently. “Y/N, you aren’t under arrest.”
Under arrest? Daryl fought between the urge to get angry or dead-ass laugh. 'Under arrest??'
It was for real, though. His wife’s tears started flowing again as she turned her attention to Rick and began to stress, “There can’t be no special treatment—”
“—Is this why you handed me your weapons? Why would you be under arrest?” Rick cut her off to question.
She stared as if he’d grown antlers. “I s-struck a patient, and, and—”
“—And I slit his throat open, which is why that 'patient' is in there in the first place,” he cut her off again, firm.
Thankfully, TJ let out a wail the same time mama wailed, “Ricky, y-you weren’t his medic!” pausing any further arguing.
Y/N gulped, pressed down on one breast, then the other. “I know there’s not much in ’em, Teddy-bear, but it-it’ll get better. It’ll come back,” she shushed, lifting him up and tucking herself back in. With a few kisses, she shushed, “You’ve gotten so much faster at drinking, babycakes”
Daryl got on the floor with her and took TJ back.
She avoided eye-contact again, and her lip wobbled again as she pulled the top of her shirt higher. That told him there’d been not much milk in there. And he could see all over her face that it was switching her on the legs with more false-ass, unearned guilt.
The familiar string in his chest suddenly tugged in her direction—next thing, he was resting his forehead on hers. “Hey. You’re makin’ more every day, angel,” he whispered in her ear. "And you're a damn good ma."
The way her expression softened and her body relaxed toward his felt better than fireworks going off on the Fourth 8th of July.
And as if he were back in that Georgia-in-July heat, Daryl just about melted right there on the floor when he saw his TJ, neck lifted high, making a face-scrunching, gummy smile at him. "Look how strong your neck is getting, ’lil badass, you’re rockin’ it!”
Shit, their kid was the best damn thing.
Y/N leaned against him and reached to lightly fluff their baby’s hair and rub their baby's teeny feet.
Gabriel sat in the rocking chair quietly, hands resting on his cane. He caught eyes with Daryl and nodded his head toward Y/N, glad to see her no longer convinced she needed to ‘free’ her husband.
Absorbed in the photo, Rick exhaled, then spoke up. “Y/N, how about we start from the beginning? What happened at the infirmary?”
She pressed tighter against Daryl as a pained noise left her throat. “Did you talk to Siddiq yet?” sounded very small.
“I want to talk to both of you.”
“And Michonne?”
He nodded. “She told me some.”
The big watch she’d kept from Dale tick-tick-ticked on her wrist. Then came the sound of light metallic clinking. Daryl didn’t have to look to see that she must’ve pulled out her brother’s necklace and was tugging on it.
“What I did ain’t excusable,” came out raspy and thick.
“It is," Rick answered.
“It’s not, especially not what I said to Sid—” a sob choked her response. She used Daryl's leather vest to hide her face before hugging it around herself like a blanket.
“Walk me through what happened first, kiddo, before you hit Negan with this?” Rick subtly gestured to the broken picture frame.
So she had smacked Negan in the face? Hot damn, Daryl was more in love with her already.
Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “They’d been lookin’ at it, the both of 'em.”
“At the picture?”
A tiny nod. “I’d left the room, and when I got back, they was looking at it. Siddiq brought it over to him. Tried to make like Negan was sad, too. Fuck that!”
TJ started rooting on his bicep again, but Daryl was on it. “Sorry, pipsqueak, I don’t got the right parts for that.” He started to massage the baby’s belly, and TJ quieted.
“It’s okay to let ’em cry a little, it-it helps restock these,” his wife tried joking, nodding down at her chest.
“Y/N.” Rick was delicate about coaxing her for more details. “You got back into the room, Siddiq and Negan were looking at the picture.”
“Negan’s filthy hands were on it,” she grit. "Lookin' at Carl and me, you with Shaney." The sounds of the pendant being pulled across the chain filled the room along with TJ’s soft cooing.
“Is that when you hit him with the frame?” Rick asked.
“No. I told him not to look at it again or touch it, and if he did, I’d hurt him.”
“Angel, slow your breathin’,” Daryl interjected at the same time that he figured out why those words sounded familiar: it was similar to how she'd warned the last Claimer fuckhead, the one who’d had Carl pinned down and was gon——Daryl shut down this brain for a sec, it was best not to think about that night.
He turned his head to see Rick, red-eyed, tracing his thumb along the photo of Carl, Y/N, Shane and him. Seems as if Rick had recognized her words, too.
“And when was it that you did hurt him?” Rick pressed on.
Y/N swallowed. “About half a minute later when he tried to act like it wasn’t his fault.”
Rick’s composure staggered and collapsed. His voice was hoarse when he managed to say, “It’s not his fault.”
But Y/N was fast to shut it down. “Don’t for one more second make like it’s yours, Ricky, you get that monkey off your back,” she comforted and somehow scolded both at once. “Negan was doing what Negan does when he, when he told you that. It was manipulation, nothin’ real. How C-Carl—” another choked-down sob, more tears.
Daryl noticed her press her fingertips to the spot under her chin, beside her jaw, checking her pulse to prove it was still beating.
“Negan had nothing to do with how Carl got bit,” Rick whispered. “You know it’s true, kiddo.”
“No—our boy wouldna ended up out there, w-with-with Siddiq, if it hadn’t been for Negan.” Her tone got louder and angry, her stress stutter became more noticeable, the way she tugged the necklace turned rougher. “He and his followers was why we weren’t able to trust no n-newcomers like Sid, which is why Sid was still out there alone, and, and, and why Carl went to him! It, it was because of Negan and his, and his, his-his cult!”
TJ seemed freaked out by the louder voice, the baby’s dark, blue-black eyes grown big.
Daryl spoke Y/N’s name to try and bring her back to herself, but she seemed to have very suddenly calmed.
She was blinking at her hand.
Daryl looked, and then saw the two halves of her brother Shane’s chain, broken.
“How many times did Carol warn me that this would happen when I tugged it,” she muttered to herself. "Good thing I didn't decide to tug on the rosary, huh?"
Inhaling, she leaned her head against the wall behind her, staring into space, fingers to her wrist to check her pulse again.
From beside her, he covered her hand in his. Then, pressing his lips to her fist, Daryl took the necklace from it. He could fix it.
“I lost my temper again, I’m sorry,” she spoke to all in the room, her hand cupping Daryl's cheek a moment. Then, more quietly, she looked at Rick. “How many days’ll I be in there?”
Which sent Daryl straight back to disbelief he was hearing those words, what absolute bullshit. “Y/N, you ain’t going nowhere.”
“You’re not going to a cell, Y/N,” Rick echoed.
“No special treatment,” she softly repeated. “If I were anybody else—”
Rick interrupted her “—It’s not about who you are.”
Father Gabriel had gotten up and was making his way to Y/N by then.
Y/N shook her head at the conversation, tired. “If I were anybody else or had any other orle, and if he were anybody else,” she caught her breath, “there’d be reper-re-rep—” a few more tries, and she had to choose a different word, “consequences. Assault and battery on an un-unarmed person—a patient—from their medical provider, that’s serious.” Her hand was back to covering her face. She sat pressed against the wall, knees at her chest.
“You and Siddiq are the only doctors left. We couldn’t just put you in a cell even if you had earned it.”
“I ain't a doctor, at best, I’m a medic,” she grunted. “And I did earn it, just ask him and Michonne. As for my,” she made a shaky inhale, “my duties, I can be escorted out.”
“And TJ? Gracie?” Daryl put out there, hoping to guilt her out of insisting she get jail time, like, what the fuck. What kind of conversation was this?
Screw this, he couldn't even sit. He stood, shaking his head and pacing around the room, still holding TJ.
The expression on Y/N's face should’ve been enough to calm him down, along the defeated, quiet way she reasoned, “I’ll pump and y’all will visit. It’s—no, sweetheart—it’s only for a few days,” when he started to dead-ass leave. As if her being in there ‘only for a few days’ would help this bullshit make sense.
But that’s when he ended up snapping, “This is goddamn bullshit! You bopped a sick fuck on the nose with a picture frame, who the fuck will care? Rick, why you even entertainin' this shit?” and he regretted doing so as soon as he barked it out.
The old, invisible knee rammed him in the nards harder when Rick cautioned, "Brother," and Gabe finally opened his mouth, and louder than Daryl had ever heard him speak. “She cares, Daryl. So do I.”
And to make it all worse, their baby had given a start in fear when he’d shouted, and now the poor kid was screaming—and TJ doesn’t scream, shit, shit, he blew up while holding his child?
“M’sorry! M’sorry," he hushed to his baby, "I love you so much, kid, I’m so sorry I scared ya. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” With a kiss on TJ’s wild head of hair, he murmured, “Pipsqueak, your old man is an idiot.”
Y/N rushed over when TJ screamed, but she didn’t take the baby away from Daryl. Instead, she caressed her husband’s forearm and the tricep and spoke to their child. “Your daddy’s got you safe,” she soothed.
He knew she was trying to look him in the eyes, but he couldn’t return it. He’d just scared an infant because he couldn’t check his temper. Their infant.
His wife’s quiet assurance cut through the rushing in his head. “Daryl? TJ ain’t hurt, sugar, and you’re not a bad father. Do some skin to skin, okay?” She pecked a kiss on his cheek. “And that's a dollar for cussing, pay up later.”
She then sat back down on the floor next to where the rev had made his new seat. Daryl took the now-empty rocking chair, unbuttoned his and TJ’s shirts, then nestled the kid on his chest.
Y/N then told the room the rest of what happened, how after Negan croaked out with what voice he had left, saying it 'wasn’t his fault Carl was dead', that she’d turned around and whacked him across the face with the frame.
Siddiq had reacted by grabbing her shoulders from behind to pull her away from Negan — so she had shoved back and kneed him in the dick plus rammed her head against his, dropping the frame in the process. The frame broke as a result—and when it broke, she'd lost her cool, said some shit, and threw some shit. Mich heard the hubbub and intervened, then Y/N hid herself away cause she 'knew' she was 'gone crazy.'
As far as Daryl was concerned, the new doc was lucky all he got was a shove, a knee to jewels, a clunk on the head, and some words and maybe a clipboard thrown at him, because Y/N could fight damned well. She'd had it drilled into her how and when to do it. Freely taught others moves, too.
When she’d showed Carol some techniques, way back, it was one of the things that sent him falling for her.
And…Y/N might’ve not said it out loud, but when she described how Siddiq grabbed her from behind to pull her away, everyone in that room got why it caused her to react strong.
What she described herself as doing would’ve been instinct.
Siddiq wouldn’t know why. Negan might, the fucker had watched the tape of her Deanna interview.
“See?” Y/N blew her nose again, sniffed, and stared at the floorboards. “It’s not right to Sid or the community to, to have what I did go unchecked. And what I said to Siddiq was so cruel. What’s worse is I meant it. Fuck, I still do.”
What she'd said was basically that she wished he’d gotten bit instead of Carl, and that it was just as much Siddiq's fault that the boy was dead as it was Negan’s. That 'he should be dead.'
She grimaced, then caressed the watch on her wrist. Must’ve been thinking of Dale. “Ain’t fair to…Negan, neither. If there’s anything Carl taught us, it’s that,” she whispered.
Rick lifted the frame to kiss his son’s picture, wiped a couple tears away. “When I talked with Sid, he was…alarmed. Worried. He thought it was off-character.”
Y/N went rigid where she sat. “Siddiq wasn’t there two years ago.”
Daryl lifted the baby higher on his chest and snuggled closer.
Rick shook his head. “You wishing someone dead, or, dead instead of another, is very off-character, it’s not you. No—don’t shake your head, Y/N.” Her brother maintained, “Even back then, after what happened, you didn’t wish me dead. You wished that Shane was still alive, not that I was dead instead. Even if you did say those things, it wouldn't have been the truth, just the hurt speaking.”
“I attacked you and told you I would kill you. And I-I meant it at the time, you know that.”
“And for a couple days, you left, because you didn’t actually want that. You knew it was wrong.”
“Which is why I need to get put away for a couple days. I decided to hurt a patient and his doctor, my own fr—” She wasn’t able to say what was probably the word ‘friend.’ Y/N bit her lip, and continued, “Then hurled words at him what nobody should get hurled at them.” She swallowed a cuss and grabbed another tissue.
“You’re exhausted, Siddiq knows that.” Rick pointed out. “We’re not ourselves when we’re—”
Y/N wasn’t having it. Probably too exhausted, to tell the truth.
“We’re all exhausted. C’mon, man, you just lost your son!” A sob left her and she tried to breathe through her nose. Checked her pulse again.
“You were also reacting to how he yanked you back, kiddo. That's not nothing.”
Daryl gave Rick a warning glance.
Rick saw, nodded, and held up a hand, which made Y/N turn to see what Daryl was doing. But Daryl simply kissed TJ on the head, not saying nothing.
She wasn’t fooled. When Y/N looked back at Rick after giving her husband a look of it’s okay, Daryl gave Rick another warning glare, then a nod.
“You didn’t react like that without reason, Y/N. There’s no shame to admit it was a trigger.”
She grumbled at the word. “Trauma ain’t an excuse to traumatize others.” After exhaling, she ran her hands over her face and took a moment. Hardly louder than a whisper, she challenged, “Ricky, not all my problems stem from the rapes. I’ve always been too hot-headed.”
At that moment, Daryl wanted to scoop her and TJ up and drive them away from everything, keep the two of them safe and unbothered for a month or two or four.
“Getting grabbed like that m-might, y’know, might could’ve reminded me of it—when they—" She ran a hand through her hair. "Okay, it did get me going. But, I,” she paused. “It wasn’t that I saw red or blacked out, I chose to keep goin’ once I’d started. I threw stuff because I was raging, I didn't want to stop because I thought he deserved it.”
Y/N fiddled with Dale’s watch, and turned to Father Gabriel beside her and almost smiled at him, close to the way she used to smile at Glenn, as if he were in on a joke. “Here I’d hoped I was re-domesticated by now.”
“Let us give thanks that you’re still housebroken,” he responded, taking Daryl by surprise. "You're...still housebroken, are you not?"
The way Y/N then cracked up and grinned woke up the butterflies in his stomach.
“Y/N, you’ve come miles since I first met you,” Gabriel told her softly, smiling back.
“All the way from Georgia,” she joked back, then grew more serious. “You’ve grown a whole lot, too.” She wiped her eyes, and Gabe closed his.
“And Y/N,” he shook his head. “You aren’t losing your humanity. I know you’re frightened of that, after what you told me happened to your other brother.”
It hadn’t even registered in Daryl’s mind that Shane’s memory would be scaring her. She loved her brother like hell, but she was always terrified of going down the same path he did.
He looked to Rick to see what his reaction was. His reaction was tear-rimmed eyes and a nod of his head toward TJ, silently asking if he could hold the baby awhile. Daryl nodded, Rick stood, and returned Y/N the frame as he walked by to pick up the little one.
Hands empty, Daryl took out his army knife and the broken chain from his pocket so he could fix his woman’s necklace. Wasn’t gonna be hard.
He heard Y/N whisper, “Hey, punk. Miss you. Miss you, too, loser.” He let his eyes travel to where she sat under the window, and watched her kiss the picture and well up. It was the old one of her and preschool-age Carl photobombing Rick and Shane, after one of them got some kind of cop award.
Clutching it once more to her belly, she and Father Gabriel then started to talk in low voices with one another.
“The red haze in your right sclera is so close to begin' clear. Did you talk to Rosie today? She’s been seeming less depressed.”
“I thought this was me visiting my patient, not the other way around,” Gabe gently hinted. “Y/N, please talk to me.”
Daryl heard her sniffle. “Rev, but I don’t want to have meant those words. I’ve been workin’ on it. It-it might be his fault, but I know he’s innocent, he’s humane—Sid even counts walkers like I do, man, yet still, I—” her breathing shuddered. “After whatever this mess is kicked in, every time I see him now, I hate him. Why do I hate a decent person?”
“Grief,” he offered simply. He gave her another shrug and small smile. “Keep doing what you have been. It will get easier every day, the same way your, um,” he was careful about his wording regarding her tits, “that you have more for the little ones every day.”
She huffed but didn’t raise her voice again, she stayed quiet as could be. “It don’t feel like none of that’s happening.”
“Our perception of things doesn’t always equal the truth, Y/N.” Gabe seemed to take a moment. Maybe he was praying.
Y/N’s fingers found her pulse again.
“We are all healing,” Gabriel next said, and smiled again. “Your heart is still beating, is it not?”
Y/N stared for a few moments, caught in the act. Eyes meeting Daryl’s for a moments, she removed her fingers from her neck, and inclined her head at the reverend. “What about yours?” she asked softly.
“Still beating. And that’s the proof,” he assured her just as softly. “Y/N, as for the way you understand your actions and your emotions toward him as not being right, I would like you to take it as a comforting sign. And, you just handed over a weapon you plainly wanted to keep concealed, you didn’t use said weapon to hurt Negan, either,” he pointed out, for which Daryl was grateful. “Perhaps, if you begin to make excuses, begin to feel no sense of having done wrong when you have, I will worry.”
Weirdly enough, he next grinned up at the ceiling. “But I am not, because you are simply broken and in need of healing. You’ll get there, as will I,” he held his hand out to the room. “As will your brother, your husband. All of us.” He sighed. “So long as our hearts are still beating.”
Daryl looked back at his wife in time to see her bit her wobbling lip and nod. Her gaze turned to Rick with the baby. He was kissing TJ’s scrawny little feet.
Her face softened seeing them, and as Daryl’s stomach fluttered again, she turned to look at him. His stomach full-on did a happy flip (and, yeah, he lost his grip on the necklace’s broken link and dropped it).
Y/N said to Rick, “Well, we still need to show ’em that Alexandria—that you—are accountable and fair. How many nights will do, you think?”
Rick shook his head. “Zero. But, because you have a point and won't take 'zero' as an answer,” he quickly added, “how about one?”
“For a piggy, you’re actin’ awful chicken.”
He was unmoved by the cop joke. “Bawk, bawk.”
And Y/N laughed, for what it was worth. And it was worth everything, hot damn was that laugh the best sound.
Daryl figured he might as well check, “What about bail, that still a thing?”
“Not with you owing a whole dollar. That’ll take weeks to pay off,” she said, back to doing her best to lighten up things. He loved her so fucking much, goddamn.
“Supervision when outside the cell,” she stated to Rick.
He shook his head again. “I have a better sentence in mind. When I saw you wearing Lori’s belt earlier today, it reminded me of it. See, and you left this at the infirmary.” He reached into his jacket pocket.
Recognition swept across her face when he held it out. “Do you think he’ll feel safe?”
“The headphone cord is too thin to choke him with, it’d snap.”
“Ricky, that joke was very dark,” she lightly chided.
He squinted, kissing TJ’s feet one more time first. “I hereby sentence you to one night—”
“—Three.”
“One in lock-up,” he spoke over her, then was fast to tack on, “with Daryl and this one as guards.” He motioned to the baby.
"Women shouldn't have male guards," she dryly droned.
"Overruled. You'll also get supervised outings for your duties tomorrow and the day after, including the trip to the Hilltop for Maggie’s prenatal visit. And,” he held up the music player, “you’ll need to listen to music with Siddiq on this. We know it works.” He cocked his head. “Let’s start with 20 minutes per day, like you and I had.”
Some tears slipped out even though she was smiling. She mouthed I love you to him, then asked out loud, “How many days?”
Rick squinted. “Fourteen.”
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You
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“You pick the songs. Whatever you like,” you told him, staring at the photo and rubbing the ‘22’ pendant over your lips. Daryl fixed the chain for you shortly after you’d broken it. You really love him.
Sid accepted the mp3 player out of your hand.
You and he each had one earbud in, one apple beside you, and Michonne sat nearby with Judith. Supervision was your stipulation, yet being proactive about ensuring it had done nothing for how humiliating it was.
Still, you took an objective look and figured Siddiq should know that his safety mattered, that your people were fair and held themselves to standards.
Just looking around the place, it looked as if standards were a given here. That Alexandria’s power grid and some panels were already repaired within three weeks of Negan’s razing was almost unbelievable.
Sucks for the Saviors Cult that the community had been built to withstand up to magnitude 4.1 earthquakes and be fairly fire-safe as part of its self-sustaining (and for-politicians) model, so in the least, a good number of the homes were still standing.
Carl's gazebo was another story, as were other similar structures, like the church, but the ash had been washed off by the rain, and the communities' walls were back up.
Next to you, Siddiq asked you how to work the mp3, citing, “Carl had been the one to…”
Had been the one to work it when he borrowed it to visit you out there, in order to show you some kindness. Before he got himself bit because of you.
The words festered inside of you. Whatever. Let them fester, you felt dead anyway.
As you went to point to show him, the picture hung from your outstretched, bandaged hand. The pic you'd chosen this time was another older one from the before-times, not one of the newer polaroids. You'd been the one to take it, actually, using a disposable camera about five and a half, maybe six years ago.
It was blurry, Lori and Carl had been being silly and stopped posing, Rick was mid-comment. You loved this one.
It felt so unreal now, felt fake.
Felt dead.
You checked your pulse. Still beating.
“The, um, just use-use those two buttons there for up and down to search,” you mumbled, tucking the photograph into your shirt pocket. “That one is for back, that one for options. Press down on the middle to click.”
He went huh. “Here’s the Indian music playlist,” he chuckled. Appears he’d found the Desi Party! playlist. Carl told you he’d played it for him.
Before he’d gotten fucking bitten.
How could your heart rage and ache so much if you were dead?
“It’s got all sorts on it,” you replied blankly to Siddiq. Remembering your oldest sister who’d made all the playlists before handing her mp3 down to you, it felt like she was made up. Felt like everyone was made up, fake. Dead.
“My mother was a big filmi fan,” he shared.
But you simply repeated, “Pick to whatever you like, you’re in charge of the songs.”
There was no emotion in your voice. You didn’t want to chat with him, didn’t want to nerd out about Bollywood music, and also didn’t want to face him after saying such awful things to him early today.
Hating him felt right. It felt "deserved," which is a word you'd learned to not use, thanks to Dale.
Granted, hating Siddiq felt wrong, too, which invited shame to take a seat on your lap.
So, you followed the rev’s advice and took comfort in the shame because it meant your conscience was still ordered in a good direction. It meant you weren’t fully dead yet.
You checked your pulse again to remind yourself that it was still beating. Life was still going.
Father Gabriel had also told you that feeling dead didn’t make you a bad mother or a bad wife or bad person, it simply meant you were broken and grieving.
“Y/N?”
“What?” you growled — and immediately wished it hadn’t come out that way. In your head, you told Carl you were sorry, you’d do better next time. Then, you prayed to stop hating the sight of Siddiq, the sound of his voice. Wished Dale or Hershel or T-Dog or Deanna or Denise or Sasha were there for, for—advice, support, you don’t know…
And because the rev has enough on his plate and needs to rest, maybe later you’d risk everyone’s ire and sneak away to visit Mr. Jones at the junkyard. At least he wasn’t dead yet, too. Maybe visiting him would convince him to move back to Alexandria.
“I never apologized for pulling you backward like that,” Siddiq said to you, a little short. Couldn’t blame him.
In truth, you had done all you were going to do to Negan after smacking him the once, but Sid wouldn’t have known that. Wouldn’t have known how grabbing you like that would flip an alarm, either.
No use moping, if your positions were reversed, you’d have wrangled him back, too.
And yet, you just caught yourself licking your teeth and sneering in response to his apology.
But it wasn’t out of anger or hatred so much as…you still aren’t certain what the emotion was. Grief, depression, shame, all three. You supposed it didn’t make a difference. Didn’t feel like much of anything.
Briefly, you put two fingers to your neck to check your pulse again. Still beating. Still alive.
Alive, and needing to eat some crow, as it were.
“Don’t apologize, you were protectin’ our patient. What I did was wrong,” you recited. “I-I threatened a patient and then whacked him across the face.” Your conscience then prompted you to apologize again for what you’d said to him. “And, just—Siddiq, what I said to you was bullshit and lies and m'sorry I said it. Cruel bullshit, naught else. Don’t go believing a word of it.”
He wasn’t clicking through the playlists and songs anymore.
Appearing uncomfortable, he peeked at you before he put his attention back on the mp3. “Michonne said pulling you like that was a trigger, which is why you, um…I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t know.”
First, you relaxed your jaw. “Ain’t your job to know. It’s mine to learn past it.” Next, you spackled on something of a smile and added quietly, “It’s good that you, that you stepped in. Thank you.” You did mean it, for what it was worth.
How many minutes until the twenty was up, you wondered, and tried to not be obvious about checking the time on your wrist. Eyeing Michonne, she seemed more preoccupied with Judith than with being punctual regarding your penance/sentence.
“PTSD is serious. That’s why I’m sorry, I, um,” Siddiq faltered. He went back to clicking through the music choices.
“We all have at least a little PTSD, bud.” With a light nudge to try and convey camaraderie or something, you attempted to tease, “C'mon, you chosen at least one song, yet?”
“Sorry, let me just, uh…” and with a few more clicks, the first song started. It was Bohemian Rhapsody.
“You chose the playlist ‘Songs Everyone Likes.’”
He chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that one.”
The memory of belting out this song with Carl, Glenn, Beth, and Maggie before your group even found the prison whooshed back and you started to smile—until you remembered that Carl was gone now. He was dead.
You’d forgotten all of that for hot second, but your Carl was dead. So was Glenn. So was Beth. So was Lori, who'd joined, so was T-Dog, so was...
Maybe you were dead, too. You felt dead—so, you pressed your fingers to your neck to feel for a pulse.
Still beating.
The lyrics of the song began to register. You know, the early parts like ‘I don’t wanna die,’ and ‘carry on, as if nothing really matters.’ Sounded a little too personal, tell you the truth.
And just like that, the song was skipped. You glanced at Siddiq.
He shook his head. “Not the right mood for it.”
“Mm.”
The intro to the next song in the shuffle was very bouncy, and ‘Dance to the Music’ started to jive through the earbuds. You didn’t sway along like you naturally would have. No urge to.
The song played, finished.
“First time I heard this was in Shrek,” Siddiq made small talk while munching on his apple. “Love that movie.”
You might’ve hummed in acknowledgment, you aren’t sure. He handed your apple to you, you took it. Held it.
The next song started, ‘Young Hearts Run Free.’
The song played, finished.
Siddiq made more small talk. “I remember that one in Romeo + Juliet, the one with, um, Leo DiCaprio. We watched that version in high school after we finished reading it.”
You hummed again. Pressed your fingers to your wrist, just in case. But no, your heart was still beating.
The next song started, ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash.’
“A lot of oldies,” he commented once the singing began. He took the final nibble off his apple.
“But goodies,” you responded, willing yourself to sound less stiff and monotone. “Modern stuff is on this playlist, too, don’t worry.”
The song played. Finished.
The next song started. ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’ Siddiq promptly skipped it once the refrain started and the lyrics sank in.
“Good call,” you grunted.
The next song started. ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.’
“Oh n—please skip this one, too." You loved that one, but you’d queued it up for Glenn at his and Maggie’s wedding, and it was not the time to go reminiscing. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Checked your pulse. Still beating. "Please skip 'Thunderstruck' if it comes on, too?”
The mp3 player clicked as Siddiq skipped the song. Next on the shuffle was ‘Under Pressure.’
He adjusted his seat and coughed. “This one fits.”
A combination sigh/groan was your contribution, because he was right. The two of you were the only doctors major medical personnel left standing.
The song played. Siddiq’s knees and wrists bounced to the rhythm where he sat beside you. You stared at your boots. Where’d all the soot and dirt on them and your clothes come from, you couldn’t remember…
It was when a strong gust of cold wind blew that you noticed that the music had stopped, your earbud was out, and the sky wasn’t as cloudy anymore.
When did that happen?
You sat up and blinked a few times, your apple still in one hand, Shane’s necklace in the other.
“Hey,” you heard Siddiq call.
What, why were your cheeks wet? “S-sorry, I,” you dropped the necklace, wiped your eyes with your sleeve, and put the apple down, “must’ve, um, checked out.”
“I’m not sure how long it was after it began when I noticed the change,” he let you know. “Is…this what happened earlier?”
You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Earlier was somethin’ else. This was just—” ‘Dissociation,’ was a misunderstood word, so Denise taught you. And you didn’t want to use the word for that reason.
You really wanted to keep a shred of dignity for yourself in the eyes of that guy. He didn’t even know that you’d hurt yourself when you’d ‘blacked out’ the other day…so, you decided upon a white lie highly euphemistic layman's term. “I spaced out.”
He nodded, but his brows sunk, as if he weren’t buying it.
And when he did that thing where someone slightly opens their mouth because they’ve put together a response, you changed the subject. “Listen to anythin’ good while I was in space?”
Siddiq wasn’t swayed. “Do you still feel detached?”
“A little,” you answered truthfully, breathing deep and checking your watch to try gauging how long you’d been out. Except, you had no recollection of what time it had been earlier, so it was a bust. God save you, you were a mess.
“Sid. I’m sorry you’re trapped dealin’ with this shit, it ain’t fair to you. If, if you wanna bounce early, don’t feel obligated to stay, and, and—like, if you don’t wanna do this whole music thing, it’s fine. W-we don’t want you feelin’ unsafe.”
“Unsafe? Y/N, I…” he paused. “I forgive you for what you said earlier. And I’m not scared of you. Hitting Negan wasn’t okay, but…” another pause. “Compared to the way most others are baying for his blood and how you defended saving his life, I mean—you helped me save him, Y/N—” He lifted his hands, palms to the sky. “You’re my friend, we work together, it’s not like I can’t see that you’re drowning.”
Nothing prepared you to hear that.
He was calling you a friend and was still trying to be understanding, after all that…
You wanted to slam your head on a hard, rough surface and cry from the shame and simultaneous relief. You also didn’t want to accept it, and so pushed back: “You were alone out there too long. Friends d-don’t tell friends they wish they were dead.” And mean it, you did not confess.
But of all things, he merely raised one shoulder and snorted. “I’m a really good friend?”
Tears spilled at the same time that you almost laughed. No, it's true, you almost laughed. Things felt a little unreal again, but in not a bad way. The most you could do right then was send up thanks for the mercy that came out of the mess. You pinched your wrist first, then felt for your pulse.
“Compared to a few minutes ago, do you feel more like yourself now?” Siddiq made sure.
Huh. You used to ask Shane a very similar question, when he was forgetting his goodness.
You kept feeling the small beats at your wrist, reminding you that you were indeed alive, therefore capable of healing and growth.
“Heart’s still beating,” you sniffled, making yourself smile at him. The hatred and disgust you’d felt earlier seemed to you less like a fact and more like a bad dream.
Then, from the far right of the oak tree, you heard Aaron’s voice saying, “Not yet, man, they’ve got four minutes left.”
Aaron and Daryl then came into view. They waved to you as they walked by with the babies, another reminder that you that you weren’t fully dead inside. Gracie was in a stroller, TJ was bundled in Daryl’s arms. Your husband lingered behind, eyes on you as he absently pecked a kiss to your baby’s covered head.
Something stirred, and your chest fluttered and tugged in their direction, reminding you again that your heart was still beating. So was Maggie’s, so was her and Glenn’s baby’s, so was Rick’s, so was Aaron’s. Life was still going. You had a child, a husband; lifelines. Their hearts were still beating, too.
The unexpected wink and the way Daryl’s gaze softened as he looked at you made you feel as if you’d been freezing and someone just handed you a cup of cocoa with mini marshmallows. The way he next moved his lips to pronounce ‘troublemaker,’ however, you ought to have seen coming a mile away.
The heaviness in your body eased a bit. A smile started prodding the corners of your mouth. Shyly, you returned the wave and mouthed ‘mangy hick,’ your wrist bumping against the photograph sticking from your shirt pocket.
Aaron noticed him acting like a dope lagging and gestured for him to keep up. “Four more minutes and we’ll come back to get her.”
Daryl called out "slowpoke," and waved your baby’s little arm to the two of you as they walked away. He kept peeking behind him, too, it warmed you. When they reached far enough, you once again took the photograph out from your pocket.
With a final peek at Carl’s picture, you sent up a prayer and reaffirmed the promise that you’d made to him. That you’d live for him, do him proud.
So long as your heart was still beating, you’d try to do him proud. “Seems you and I got four more minutes, Sid. What’ll we pick?”
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