Page 188 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

The day I spoke with Frida on the phone about it, she told me that didn’t seem right to her. She said breast milk is ideal. It immunizes; it’s the best. Sonia told me the same thing; she even told me about how breastfeeding and the maternal instinct interact. Well, my maternal instinct tells me to give him a bottle and that if anyone so much as touches my son, I’ll kill them.

When I mention it to Eric, he tells me it’s my decision. And since what I want from minute one is for my husband to be as much a part of this story as I am, I choose a bottle so it’s a shared ball and chain. I don’t give a shit what the rest of the world thinks!

When they bring a bottle with a little milk for our baby, I pass it to Eric.

“C’mon, Daddy, give him his first bottle,” I say.

I watch how my love lifts the baby from the crib, sits on a chair, and feeds him. The little boy, who is ravenous, quickly throws himself at the nipple like a beast and gobbles what he’s been crying for.

Once the feeding’s over, he falls asleep like a little colt. I can’t tell if I should clean the drool off the baby or his father first.

They’re both so cute!

After the feeding, the nurses come to take little Eric to his crib. They want me to sleep and rest. But the little boy has tremendous lungs and likes to be noticed. He has quite a temper!

Knowing it’s his son who’s screaming, Eric keeps him in my room and takes care of him all night. He rocks him, cradles him, talks to him. I watch them in the dark, my heart pounding.

I’m tired—exhausted—but I can’t sleep. My eyes don’t want to stop looking at the beautiful show my two Erics are putting on for me.

“C’mon, go to sleep, sweetheart. Rest,” my love whispers. “He’s perfect, right?”

The little one wiggles in his arms.

“As perfect as you are, my beautiful love.”

He touches my head, which is a balm for me. He knows that relaxes me, and, finally, I fall exhausted into Morpheus’s arms.

When I wake up, I’m alone in the room. Light streaks in through the window, and, when I call the nurse, the door opens to Eric.

“Come on in, Grandfather. Your dark-haired daughter has finally woken up,” he says with a radiant smile.

When I see my father, I grin from ear to ear.

He rushes to hug me. Raquel follows with Lucía and Luz.

“Congratulations, my love. You have a beautiful baby.”

“A boy, Papá—what you wanted!” I exclaim.

My father nods. “I’m sorry, son. This time, I won the bet,” he says to Eric.

“I’m as happy as you are, Manuel. Don’t doubt it for a second.”

“Wow!” My sister hugs me. “What a handsome boy.”

“He looks just like Eric, right?”

“That’s why I said handsome,” my sister says, making me laugh.

Luz, my Luz, gets on the bed and hugs me and gives me a package.

“I have seen my cousin, and he is gorgeous, Tita.”

I smile at this and open the package. There’s a little Spanish national soccer team ensemble. I laugh.

“Do you want him to be kicked out of Germany?” I ask, and everyone laughs. “Where is my little guy, anyway?”

“They’re doing some tests, sweetheart,” says Eric. “Don’t worry; they’ll bring him back.”

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