The night my child was born happened in heartbeats.
The first beat, I was at home. Dalia and I had a fight, even though I knew we shouldn’t have. She was important to me, but my child’s safety was at stake. We both knew it was just weeks of frustration and worry building up and overflowing. Tomorrow I would go back and we would make up again, and I would sit through another day of complaints and silence.
I was reading Clara a new book. Dalia had reread the same ones to her a million times, so in her absence I decided to outshine her and buy the young girl some new ones. Tonight she wanted to hear about farm animals going on an adventure, even though she had already heard it last night. I wasn’t in the mood for another argument, so we got to reading.
In books and movies, they always depicted unconsciousness as this great dark abyss. Like it was a black hole with me floating around in the middle. I thought it would be similar to being underwater, floating around like I was weightless and free. But as always, the books and movies were wrong. They gave me the false hope that I would receive some sort of tranquil experience in the middle of this chaos. In reality, it felt like I blinked. I remembered looking up at the bright white surgical lights with plenty of doctors by my side. I couldn’t feel anything, even if I did see the occasional blood soaked gauze come by. It didn’t register that that blood was mine. The room was spinning, until I finally heard my final call to let go. I heard the sharp cry of my baby, my first born. I allowed myself to close my eyes. I wasn’t allowed to rest for long. T
“Drive slowly.” Robert warned him. “Or face her wrath.” The driver smiled politely at the joke, probably not realizing how much truth there was in it and that it wasn’t a joke whatsoever. The baby and I were finally both cleared to go home, but that did not mean that I was feeling fine and dandy again. I had a big c-section scar on my lower stomach, one that would surely turn into an ugly scar later on. The doctors had encouraged walking and moving around far quicker than I really wanted to. I could walk out of the hospital myself, but at a slow pace. After placing the baby carrier in the car, Robert helped me sit down. I felt like I was eighty years old with how much help I needed with everything, but Robert never once complained about it. I must have really scared him with the whole ‘my heart stopped beating’ moment in the operation room. He was never
Clara had never been one for lullabies, she preferred bedtime stories even before she could understand what the stories were about. Flynn was the opposite in this. If you spoke to him, he cried, but if you sang to him he would fall asleep.I finished the third Disney song, all three coming straight out of Tangled because I lacked originality, and stayed for a few more moments to watch if he wasn’t actually faking me out and was still awake. Not that I minded whatsoever, I could look at him every minute for the rest of my life and never get bored.His chest rose and fell, his face all scrunched up to deal with whatever dreams he was having. He had taken to Robert’s old crib like it had been his own for years already. He was only a few weeks old and already smart enough to know that he should not fight his father on this. God, this baby is going