She kicks at the wrapping paper on the floor as she shuffles towards the refrigerator. Closing her eyes slowly she hopes to get rid of the burning. When she opens them again the pain returns immediately and she’s greeted by the blaring red numbers on the oven. 3:26. A year ago she would be stumbling in from a party at this time and not give a shit, but now, now every moment of sleep she can get in precious.
A wail filters through the forgotten baby monitor in her hand. She stares down it having another moment of complete disbelief. The baby waiting upstairs is hers. She’s a mother. Somehow the excitement of her friends and few of her family carried her through to this point, but standing in her empty house, every one else having gone home for the night or even worse, gone out for the night, she feels like its settling in for the first time.
There was no end to the help and company for the first month. It seemed like a million people wanted to get a peek at her son and lift her spirits at the same time, but the novelty has worn off now. She wonders if it’s worn off for her as well.
Another wail breaks into her thoughts and she pulls a pre-pumped bottle from the fridge and sticks it into the microwave for a few seconds. Her hands cross over her tender breasts and she sighs. She leans back against the counter and her eyes slip closed again. When the microwave beeps she takes a shuttering breath and pulls out the bottle.
For a moment she resents the baby’s father. Resents that he is no doubt either just getting home from a night of fun or sound asleep in his bed with no thought given to her sleep deprivation. A lot of people criticized them for maintaining their space and not getting married. Most of those people don’t know the whole story. She pauses as she passes the solitary picture of the two of them in the house. She adjusts the crooked frame and stares at the faces. There isn’t happiness radiating like there should be, instead a quiet sense of obligation and fondness.
They only dated for six months and had been broken up for two when she finally took the pregnancy test. She thought about not even telling him. The reasons they broke up were not going to go away and frankly, she didn’t want them to. She had cared for him a lot, but never anything close to love. Funny that he would be the one that got her pregnant. So many other relationships and close calls that would have had a better chance of working out, but you don’t ever get to choose these kinds of things.
When she did get up the nerve, her belly had already started to bulge slightly. He had already moved on, had a new girl on his arm. She didn’t mind, in a way she was relieved, maybe they could skip all the useless steps and just be friendly for the baby. But he has disappointed her. Of course his southern upbringing wouldn’t allow him to just let her do this on her own and even worse he wanted t try again for the baby.
So for the last seven months that’s what they had been doing, trying. Trying to support each other, even though she didn’t understand his need for support. Trying to put on a happy face for the cameras and onlookers that had gathered as soon as the news leaked out. Trying to love each other, something that remained to be seen.
She smiles at the small flutter in her heart as she approaches her son’s room. As tired as she got, as much as she missed her night life, she still loved this little person with everything in her. She pushes open the door and the faint smell of baby powder and Johnson’s baby lotion rush over her. The tiny whimpers and rustling that were masked by the door invade her previous silence.
“Shhhh,” she whispers still not really knowing if it brings him any comfort. His tiny body is lifted almost effortlessly out of the bassinet as she backs into the rocking recliner in the corner. One thing that she would give his father credit for was the decoration of the nursery. She didn’t really care for the nursery characters, but for the chair alone she let it slide. Instead of the standard wooden frame, the plush chair actually made feeding something she occasionally looked forward to.
The baby continues to whimper and squirm in his mother’s arms. She presses the bottle to his lips, but his movement makes it impossible for him to latch on. This is why she no longer breast feeds. Eating is a long and difficult process for the colicky boy. What little she does manage to get him to take is usually spit back up on her in matter of minutes.
A shaky sigh breaks through her lips and she struggles to keep her composure. She’s never been good on little sleep and all she really wants right now is to return to her bed. He finally takes the bottle into his mouth and begins to suck vigorously. The small action is a victory and the rhythmic sound of her sucking begins to coax her eyes closed.
She fumbles the empty bottle as her eyes pop back open. They snap back closed almost instantly as the sunlight hits them. She doesn’t fight the urge, but presses the tiny sleeping form to her in assurance that he is still there and she some how managed not to drop him.
The door of the nursery bursts open and she pries her eyes open to see the father standing in the door red-faced, phone pressed to his ear.
“I found them mom. They were in the nursery. Yeah, I will. Love you,” he rambles into the tiny device.
“Jesus Christ Kate! Do you have any idea how worried I was?” he demands. She looks at him blankly, not really wanting to answer. Not worried enough to be here last night, she thinks.
“Calm down Justin,” Kate counters her voice lowered. She rises slowly from the chair and sets the baby down gently in his bassinet before turning to face Justin again. If the baby weren’t asleep she would raise her voice to match his, but his sleep is too rare to spoil.
“Calm down? I called like fifteen fucking times. I thought something happened to you two,” he continues, his voice lowering. He moves to stand in at the foot of the sleeping baby reaching down to stroke the top of his fisted hand. The baby stirs a little and Kate almost groans.
“It has been a really long night Justin. Too long to stand here and try to apologize for taking good care of our son,” Kate states as she leaves the room. She hears him grumble something under his breath, but doesn’t care to know what it was. She makes the short walk to her master quickly and frowns when she catches her appearance in a passing mirror. The bags under her eyes and wrinkle down the middle of her forehead are new. Courtesy of Jonah, and his father.
“I thought we agreed that me living here wasn’t the best thing Kate,” he says as he enters the room. Kate turns and leans up against the bed as she rolls her neck. Justin grimaces when the pops echo through the room. He hates when she does that.
“Yeah, well it’s easy for you to say that. You’re not the one up every night all night with him. You go home and get a good fucking nights sleep,” she seethes. Instantly she regrets the words. Not because they are harsh, but because she hates swearing. Justin throws his hands up in the air before falling back in a chair in the corner.
“So what? Now you want me to move in? Make up your fucking mind,” he replies. Kate’s eyes flutter as she rolls them. She doesn’t want him to live here because for them, she wants some help.
“Either you move in or I’m hiring help,” she states. Justin grits his teeth and shakes his head furiously. She touched a nerve and she knows it.
“You know how I feel about other people raising my child,” he responds in a low voice. She laughs bitterly. Whenever she’s wrong or he wants something Jonah is ‘his’ child. When there’s a problem he becomes ‘theirs’.
“Well then I guess you’re moving in. You can have the room downstairs,” Kate answers dryly. She moves into the bathroom wanting nothing more than a shower. If there is any mercy in the world Jonah will stay asleep long enough for her to condition her hair.
She pulls her tank top over her head and tosses it on the floor before reaching in to turn on the water in the shower. Justin enters the bathroom and crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. She turns and looks at him unamused. Any sense of modesty she had before giving birth is gone. After having a room full of people stare at your vagina for hours, you just don’t really care who sees you naked.
“You really want to do this? Deal with the media frenzy that’s going to come with me moving in?” he tests. She knows that he’s trying to get her to back down, but the reasons why he needs to be there are too fresh in her mind for this trick to work.
“You’re not moving in. You’re going to stay here at least four nights a week. You’ll still have your house and as far as anyone needs to know you live there,” she replies. His mouth drops open, but he doesn’t say anything. Without a response she steps into the shower. The warm water hits her body and a small smile graces her face.
“Forget the bedroom downstairs. If I’m here to help with Jonah I’ll just put a bed in there with him,” he calls over the shower. She doesn’t answer. He can do whatever the hell he wants as long as it means that she will be getting a break and maybe even a night out.
“I’m going to grab Jonah and take off. My mom wants me to bring him by,” he calls again. She waves her hand outside the curtain giving him the ok. Now she knows why he was so frantic this morning. His mother wanted to see the baby. Not to say that Justin isn’t a good father. She would use the word novel to describe the relationship right now. But how could he feel any more when he did no more than most guests. Which was to stop be occasionally to hold and coo at the baby and immediately hand him over as soon as he gets fussy? But that was all going to change. She smiles at the thought of him awake at 4 am changing a diaper or trying to be coherent after two hours of sleep.
She can’t help but hope that maybe him being more involved with the baby will help with their trying as well. Having him around more wouldn’t hurt. Maybe they could put a little truth to the tabloid stories that they were a happy young family. In the most unconventional modern way.
The water begins to get cold and she reluctantly steps from the spray. She hesitates before wrapping a towel around her body looking at her changed body in the mirror. Tomorrow, she decides, she will begin the process of regaining her body and her life. The quiet in the house energizes her and she slips on some clothes before grabbing her keys. A day without Jonah will not be wasted.
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