Chapter One:
The hospital room is dark & quiet. Not even a whisper of what had happened here mere hours earlier. She glances at the clear crib beside her bed & watches the gentle rise and fall of the swaddle as her baby dreams.
The rush of emotions is hard to describe. It’s no small wonder to finally be face to face with someone you’ve known for nine months & yet feel as though you’re meeting them for the first time. To hold someone lovingly in your arms & yet somehow already miss them moving around inside your belly.
He turns his head toward her and begins to cry softly. Instantly, her chest tightens with alarm as she struggles to sit up and reach for him.
Surely something must be wrong, but what? What should she do?
She looks to her husband – fast asleep on the chair – and hesitates to wake him. He’s exhausted too.
Somehow the recovery pain fades to the background of her mind as she pushes herself from the bed and reaches for her small baby. Hands shaking she awkwardly picks him up, struggling with embarrassment…” He’s mine, this should come naturally to me.”
He continues to cry as she gently tries bouncing him in her arms. When this fails, she tries rocking him back and forth.
Still, his tears fall.
Her own tears begin to pool as pure panic overwhelms her.
He’s my baby…I’m supposed to know what he needs. I’m supposed to know how to do this.
“Check his diaper.”
The words came so clear, as if her husband had spoken them aloud. But the peace that washed over her was familiar in a different way.
His voice, stilling her fears.
With trembling hands, she unwrapped the swaddle to find her son’s diaper completely full. Setting him down gently on the bed, she reached for the items needed and tried to remember everything the nurses had taught her about the right way to do this.
With the diaper tabs secured, she lovingly re-swaddled the small baby and instantly his crying ceased.
She exhaled in relief, swiping at the tears still running down her cheeks as her little one nuzzled in and fell back to sleep.
She wept softly in the stillness. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
That’s when she felt His arms wrap around her, the peace of His Prescence filling the very air she breathed.
“Yes, you can,” he whispered, “because I am with you, always.”
She placed a tender kiss on her little one’s soft head, and gently laid him back in the cradle beside the bed.
He stirred only slightly, then settled in to sleep. Her husband did the same.
Goodnight my little family.” She whispers, sinking into the scratchy sheets, closing her own eyes and, for the first time in a long time, sleeps in peace.
Chapter Two:
His cry awakens her from the lightest of sleeps.
Or was she even asleep? She can never really tell anymore.
Pushing herself up onto one arm, she glances over to the bassinet where her little bundle has begun to toss and turn.
She checks her phone – it’s not even been two hours since they’d last settled down.
Wiping sleep from her eyes she eases out of the warm bed, only to feel a chill settle over her as she realizes her shirt is soaking wet.
Did I pump an hour ago when we fed him? Surely I did…or maybe I just dreamt I did?
He’s beginning to scream now, causing her husband to stir. She quickly rushes to the bassinet and picks him up, wondering what’s got him so upset. It doesn’t take her long to figure it out.
The swaddle is soaking wet, as is the sheet underneath him. Taking him into his nursery and laying him on the changing pad, she discovers that yes indeed, the diaper strap had come undone and now there was pee everywhere.
She quickly unswaddles and strips the baby down, wiping his body and trying to soothe him over his screaming. She reaches for another diaper, and is greeted by a warm stream in the darkness covering her already soaked shirt in a fresh layer of liquid.
Well, at least he’s hydrated. She tells herself as she retrieves another wipe from the warmer and begins the process again.
Finally, with a clean diaper and the baby freshly swaddled, she putters to the kitchen to mix another bottle for him.
Bouncing him in her arms, she opens the fridge to retrieve a bag of breast milk. Turning to the sink she reaches for a bottle, or at least that’s what she meant to do, instead there is a “Splat” followed by cold liquid seeping into her toes.
She had just dumped the entire bag of breast milk onto the floor.
As if cued by the sound, her son turns from fussing to screeching for food.
It’s all too much for her. She sinks to the kitchen floor in a puddle of breast milk, and bawls alongside her son.
Mere moments pass and her husband appears, flipping on the small nightlight by the sink. He doesn’t say a word, simply reaches down and gently takes their screaming son while pulling her to stand.
“Honey, why didn’t you wake me?”
She’s shivering now, swiping at tears streaming down her cheeks as the emotions swell. “I didn’t wanna wake you. I–I thought I could do it and I-I-I just can’t. He peed everywhere, I forgot to pump, I spilled all the milk,” her words were coming out in short gasps.
“It’s okay…” he pulls her into his arms, caring nothing for her wet shirt, and opens the refrigerator door. Inside, he grabs a bottle from amongst three others lined up in a row. “I prepped these last night while you were in the shower so we could just grab and go.”
Heating the bottle, he gently bounces the baby as she just stands and watches.
When ready, he offers the bottle to their son and the crying instantly stops. The only sound now is the hungry “gulp, gulp, gulp” of their satisfied baby.
A sigh escapes her mouth…she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding her breath.
“Honey, I’ve got him, go take care of yourself.”
She nods absentmindedly…where does she even start?
Half asleep, she locates her breast pump and begins the thirty minute process. The rhythmic whoosh of the breast pump is somewhat soothing to her now. The pain she’s become somewhat numb to starts to ease and with it some of the tension from moments ago.
Lord, I can’t do this…I can’t do any of this without him. What am I going to do when he goes back to work? I can’t even handle one feeding on my own.
The pump cycles on. She gazes around the room in a sleepy daze, the only light coming from the nightlight by her son’s bassinet.
I can’t do this.
Again the tears come.
Some time passes before her pump chimes its familiar tune, alerting her that it has completed its cycle. She disconnects from it, walking gingerly to the kitchen to sort and store the milk. On her way back to bed, she meets her husband in the hallway. He smiles tiredly, carrying the full, sleeping baby back to his bassinet. Gingerly, he places the bundle down, and walks over to her. He helps her find a clean shirt, wipes her tears, and tucks her back into bed. Curling up behind her, he kisses her head and whispers, “You’re a great mom, you’ll get this.”
A great mom? No..not at all. I’m not even an average mom…
He falls asleep instantly… doesn’t hear her soft crying in the darkness.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. ”
The voice comes from within her, breaking through the heartache and filling her soul.
“Don’t forget, I gave this baby to you.”
I know you did, that’s the problem…I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can take care of him…I’m scared. I can’t figure this out.
The bassinet shakes as her son stirs again.
“Go to him.”
She crosses to the bassinet and finds wide open eyes staring up at her. A smile crosses her face as that familiar, yet always overwhelming feeling of love for her child replaces all the negative emotions from before.
“Hi, sweet boy.”
She picks him up and begins to sway back and forth, his sparkling eyes watching her every move, his expression full of love and wonder.
“See?” the voice speaks again, “I don’t make mistakes. I paired this boy with this mother because I knew you were just the right fit.”
His eyes begin to slide closed, the desire for sleep overpowering.
I just don’t want to mess this up. I don’t know what I’m doing.
“I will guide you. I will be with you every step of the way. Part of this journey is learning to walk step by step with me. I never expected you to have all of this figured out. That’s for us to work on together.”
His breathing slides into deep, slow breaths. Eyes fully closed.
Gently kissing his soft, chunky cheek, she places him back in the bassinet and returns to bed.
Watching the slow rise and fall of his chest in the soft glow of his nightlight, a moment of peace washes over her weary soul.
“Rest my daughter. Let me lead you through this journey, trust me. I’ve got you both.”
Okay, I trust you.