Single Father

Chapter 17

The next month is hectic. On the weekends I spend as much time as possible with Ella and slowly I become a master at mixing the formula for her bottle.

Ella is a ball of energy. She wiggles and grabs for just about everything, but when I hold her it's different. It's as if she realizes who I am and calms down. When my mom first held her, Ella didn't cry, but she kicked and squirmed the whole time.

After I informed Michael of the birth he took it easy on me and set up an online account for me to work on when I get the chance.

Every week day morning Lauren or Cole stop by for an hour to watch Ella while I go see my counselor.
Her name is Linda McBroom and she helps single parents like me and I have been seeing her for the last few months.

We started out with a class on parenting and I even had taken home a Real Care Baby for three nights.
Now that the baby is born we started the month out by simply talking and looking at the pictures of Ella.

Then this week she had me lay down with my eyes closed and she'd put a scene in my head and then ask me to solve it.

It would go something like this:

"You're in bed and its 4 in the mourning. You hear the baby monitor go off. Ella starts crying. Then she stops. Then she starts crying louder."

I imagine the situation and after a few seconds she would ask me how I would "solve" it.

"I would get out of bed and go to Ella."

Then she would tell me to go into detail of what I would do when I got to Ella.

"I would lift her and rock her. If she was still crying I would check her diaper. If it was dry I would try a bottle. If she seemed uninterested then I would return back to rocking and walk around."

Now we are sitting here but instead of the long couch to lay on I sit in a simple, small, grey chair.

"You seem distressed." Linda says.

"I- I'm okay" I say hoping she would ask me to lay down.

"Are you sure? I saw you yawning while walking in here. And now you seem nervous. Is it the different furniture?" She asks

"Probably. I'm so used to the couch. Are we going to do something different today?" I ask and she nods.

"Kind of... but it's not a big difference." She says. She sets down her notepad and pencil on the side desk and looks at me. I don't want to actually talk about my problems. I've heard enough from my family and from friends.

"Are you sleeping okay?"
"Is Ella getting fed enough?"
"Has Kylee called?"
"Can I babysit Ella?"
"What can I get you from the store?"

If it's not tiring enough having to get up three or four times in the night to a crying baby girl then it is definitely tiring listening to everyone worry about me.

Ella wakes me up quite often and I try to make it seem like it doesn't bother me even though the lost sleep makes it harder to wake up every morning. I also caught myself saying "your turn" last night when Ella started crying. I bet you can imagine my disappointment when nobody went to change her diaper.

I guess it's all worth it in the end when you finally get up and scoop up your crying girl, see her eyes flicker open, and her small pause in her crying because she recognizes you.

I. Am. Fine.

But not to Linda. Over the last few months I realized that she sees right through me. She has already figured out about Danny and my mended relationship with my mom. Danny has called me a few times seeing how I am and if she can do anything to help. So has my mom but she has called double the amount. I tell them I'm fine and that I have everything covered.