Gud Mummeh (edit)

>Today your sister and her husband have come over to visit
>You feel bad for them, as they recently went through the tragedy of a miscarriage
>Your fluffy pony mare, who recently gave birth to a healthy litter comes over and listens in to the conversation
>The word "miscarriage" sticks out to her
>"Wat miscawage?" she asks
>Oh wow, how to explain this.
>First off, it would help if you weren't talking down to an ambulatory ball of fluff, so up on the couch she goes.
>Eye-to-eye she listens better anyway.
>You explain to the fluffy pony, carefully, as you would explain to a toddler, that sometimes, through no fault of the mother, a baby just... doesn't survive, and is born unable to ever "wake up", and it's a very sad thing.
>Her eyes are wide at learning of this terrible tragedy.
>"Daddeh sissy haf miscawage?"
"Yes, that's right."
>"Odda bebbehs otay?"
"She didn't, have any other babies, just the one."
>"Sissy onwy bebbeh sweep fowevah..." she whispers, and then starts to cry.
>She waddles over to your sister and embraces her, tears streaming down her face.
>"Fwuffy sowwy... fwuffy know, bebbeh mos' bestist ting... bestist feew tuu haf bebbehs. Fwuffy feew saddies foh Daddeh Sissy."
>Your sister, sniffling a little herself, reaches down and strokes your fluffy's mane.
>"Huggies, onwy ting foh heawt-huwties. Fwuffy nuu gif 'nuff huggies foh yuu bebbeh, buh fwuffy twy."
>For several minutes, your sister is just holding on to your fluffy, stroking it gently, and your fluffy is just hugging her in silence.
>It is incredibly awkward for both you and your brother-in-law.
>After slightly too long for your tastes, in a distant room, one of your fluffy's foals starts crying.
>Your sister releases your fluffy as if she was a hot coal, sniffling and pulling away the damp hair that has matted itself to her face.
>The fluffy turns, her face streaked with tears.
>"Bebbeh nee' mummeh. Daddeh hewp fwuffy down?"
"Sure thing sweety."
>Once on the ground, she trots quietly out of the room.
>And once again, this is an incredibly awkward situation.
>"We were... going to dinner?" cautiously ventures your brother in-law.
"Yeah, that... that sounds good."
>Your sister is still breathing raggedly, her husband helps her up.
>"I've just... just got to get ready. Get ready. Just wait here." She leaves the living room, leaning heavily on the wall for support.
>You and your brother in-law stare dejectedly at the doorway for several beats.
"Goddamn it, I need a beer. Also, it's kinda dusty in here."
>"Yeah, a beer. I got something in my eye."
---
>"Gud bebbeh, mummeh wuv yuu, haf miwkie afta bwudda dwink."
>She's been standing in the doorway of the safe room for nearly ten minutes, just watching as your fluffy feeds her young.
>"Let m-" She retracts, "May I hold one?"
>Your fluffy, with no hesitation, lifts up her eldest son.
>"Gif bebbeh huggies."
>The baby, recently born, is little larger than an eyeglass case, and having recently fed, it gazes sleepily with half opened eyes at the strange woman.
>She takes it, cradling it carefully in her palm, letting it's fragility and warmth seep into her hand.
>It gurgles, and rolls over, gently suckling at her thumb.
>Your sister kneels, and carefully gives the sleepy infant pony back to it's mother.
>"Thank you. Hugs... really helped."
>Your fluffy beams up at her, smiling, in spite of her tear-streaked face, while stroking her assembled brood.
>"Huggies mae' ebwyting bettah. Eben heawt-huwties."
---
>Four months later, your sister and brother contact you again.
>It's twins, they're healthy, and past the danger zone.
>In a few more months, you'll be an uncle.
>You long ago gave your fluffy's foals up for adoption, but she's happy.
>They all have their own mommies and daddies now, and she got to have babies.
>It was the best feel.