Page 102 of Delayed Intention
She draws back and looks at my face. “You’re so cringe—like a love-sick puppy. Let’s keep it G-rated for the riverwalk and I’ll see you at home.”
It’s my turn to laugh as she zips up her sweatshirt and walks back, in the direction of the clinic.
Lily, Estes Park, Later that night
Georgia is full-on howling. So much for five hours in a row. “It’s my turn,” I whisper to Josh. He responds with a groan, rolling over to pull my pillow over his head, trying to drown out the noise.
We learned early on with all the woodwork in the house that no baby monitors were needed. We can hear our girl just fine from anywhere in the house. I pull on my sweats and robe and make my way over to her room. Ginger is making her way to our bed and passes me with sleepy eyes.
“Good girl.” I whisper to the beleaguered dog, “I’ll get her quiet, don’t worry.”
I pick Georgia up, and she instantly quiets down, presumably smelling the milk on me. In theory, we’re trying to eliminate the nighttime feeding but, the truth is, I’m half-hearted about it. I love waking up to a fussy baby, sneaking into her room, and feeding her. I know I’m supposed to feel begrudged, but that’s not how I feel about it. I love holding her, staring at her little face as I have this time with her. Every time I wake up, I can’t believe that I’m so lucky to have this amazing life.
Taking her over to the nursing chair, I pull a cushion onto my lap and set her on it. I pull out a breast and instantly Georgia latches on as I sit back, feeling that weird tingling that says my milk is letting down.
I look down at our girl. “We found our way, didn’t we sweetheart.” At the sound of my voice, Georgia briefly pauses, side eyes me and then goes right back to eating with her eyes closed. I felt depressed for a little while when she was newly born. It was an odd experience for me because my thing has always been anxiety. We’d been prepared—Josh, the obstetrician, Monica and my psychiatrist—that I may have a tough time after she was born. I was so anxious about having post-partum psychosis or OCD that my obstetrician snapped at me at one point: ‘If you don’t stop obsessing about every possible bad outcome, you’ll be a self-fulfilling prophecy!’
It shocked me, and he apologized afterward, but I needed to hear it. Josh and I worked to develop a plan which was hard, not knowing what to expect; having options, in advance, worked to soothe some of my anxiety. The depression ended up consisting of me feeling blue, crying at everything, and not having the energy to be anxious. Or wash my hair. Josh literally put me in the shower a few times. We survived it together, as a team.
Now, I just feel so grateful to have this little baby girl that I love so much; to have a partner like Josh, who’s so hands-on and supportive. My brother Joe and his husband Eli were there on the day she was born and were instrumental in surviving the first two days—they had just been through this with their adopted son, Leo, last year and really showed us the ropes. Roselyn, Michelle, and Tamar each visited during those first few weeks. Before then, if anyone ever told me Tamar Mendes would do my laundry and empty diaper bins at 2:00 in the morning, I would have admitted them for a psychiatric hold. Rose and Georgette came and stayed after the first month for a few days, when we were more settled. Now it’s been six whole months, and I can’t believe how fast the months are flying by while the hours seem to crawl.
I switch Georgia to the other side, burping her in between. I look down at her, all full cheeks and wavy reddish-brown hair. My heart feels so full of love like it could expand my rib cage. I shake my head to myself, wondering about Ellen. This whole process has solidified a message so many people have tried to give me for years: my mother’s apathy for me is not my fault. People said it, but I couldn’t know it until now. How could she look at me and not just love me unconditionally? Now I understand that her issues are about her, not about me.
I rub a thumb on Georgia’s cheek and can’t possibly imagine not loving my daughter with my entire being. She falls back asleep before I’m ready, but I burp her and lay her back down in her half swaddle after getting a dry diaper on her. I pump the rest of my milk in the kitchen and hear Josh padding toward me with Ginger at his heels.
He blinks at me and cocks his head to the side, “You want a tea or anything?”
I eye him, “No thank you. Did the pump wake you again? Maybe I should move it to the basement.”
“No way, you’d freeze down there.”
“I’ll take a warm oat milk and a water refill please.” I handed him my bottle.
“Coming right up. And no, I keep telling you it’s not the pump. I’m sympathy nursing.”
I crack up because it’s totally the pump, but even half-awake he’s stubborn. He hands me my beverages, and I kiss him and send him back to bed. Ginger follows him back to our room, our ever-present fur baby.
About three chapters into my e-book, I can’t keep my eyes open and leave my dishes in the sink before heading back to bed. I crawl next to my husband and listen to his soft snores. Curling up behind him, I enjoy the warmth of his body pressing back into mine. Not for the first time, and certainly unlikely to be the last, I thank God for this man, our daughter, and the blessings in our life. I kiss the back of Josh’s head and nuzzle my face into the back of his neck. This man, who loves me, and I get to share a life with, in this incredible, inspiring place between the snowy mountains of the Colorado Rockies.
“I love you,” I whisper to the back of his head. “Thank you for being my partner.”
“Love you too,” he whispers back. With that, I fall back asleep.
Glossary of Terms
Here’sanalphabetizedlistof terms and definitions that the reader may not be familiar with. The definitions provided may be simplified to fit the context of the story.
B:
- Bedeken – A Jewish wedding custom where the groom veils the bride before the ceremony.
- Blessing over candles at Hanukkah – The special prayers recited while lighting the Hanukkah candles, thanking God for the commandment to kindle the Hanukkah lights.
- Baccala – Salted codfish, commonly eaten in Sephardic Jewish cuisine, including during Passover.
C:
- Charoset – a sweet mixture of nuts and fruits served during the Passover Seder, meant to symbolize the mortar the Jews used as building material in Egypt. Sephardic/Mizrahi recipes vary. My Egyptian family serves a version with dates, walnuts, grape juice, and spices like ginger.
