A Storm Is Brewing

She'll Talk When She's Ready

"He's got nappy rash." I tutted.
"How?" Leah asked frantically, coming to inspect him.
"From his nappy..." I chuckled.
"I obviously know that. Have you been putting the cream on? I have! I have put it on every single time! I swear! I haven't forgotten once. Have I forgotten?"
"Le?"
"I think I forgot this morning." She croaked.

I smiled at her as I rubbed cream onto Teddy, talking to him as I did so.

"He's alright, aren't you, little man? And anyway, Mummy didn't pack any in your bag for Grandma's, so it's my fault, isn't it?" I cooed at him.
"I was meant to tell her—fuck. I literally made a mental note to tell her."
"Le." I raised my eyebrows.
"Sorry."
"C'mere."

Leah sat down, her eyes filled with tears as she looked down at the baby on my lap. A baby that she had struggled to enjoy a single moment with, despite months of loving him inside my womb and months of willing him to be let out of the hospital. She'll talk when she's ready.

"Watch this."

I chuckled as I tickled under his chin, making him giggle so hard that his slabbers ran down his chin.

"Try it." I smiled.
"He'll probably only do it for you." Leah whispered.

I took her hand and guided her finger to his chin, watching as she became mesmerised by the sparkle in his eye when he giggled up at her. There was a brief moment of enjoyment, a brief moment of her knowing he was safe, but the second he let out a cough, Leah's face went white as a sheet.

"He's choking."
"He's not, Le. See, he's just laughing too hard at you." I smiled, placing a kiss on the side of her head.
"That'll be the food." Leah sighed as the doorbell chimed.
"I'll go; you take him."

I collected the food from the driver, passing the living room as I headed to the kitchen to dish up our food. I could hear Teddy still giggling, but as I strained my ears a little more, I could hear Leah talking to him, whispering to him.

"I'm trying really hard to just love you. To love you without worrying that I'm going to do something wrong. I promise. I won't stop until I shake this. I love you, little man. I love you."

I swallowed back my tears; hearing Leah say that this wasn't enjoyable for her was so different from just knowing it. It was like a confirmation that perhaps this wasn't going to be the perfect family setup. Perhaps she was thinking that she might be better off out of this. She'll talk when she's ready.

"You good to put him to bed, Leah?"
"Yeah." She nodded.

She let me say goodnight to him before she disappeared upstairs. I had to do a mental reset during that time. I had to remember that whatever Leah felt wasn't anything personal; she wasn't choosing to find this so traumatic. She'll talk when she's ready.

I listened through the baby monitor as Leah crept back and forth from the door to the cot. This wasn't unusual; as her problems were avoided more and more, her anxiety grew. She wouldn't take her eyes off him when we were out, woke time and time again during the night and listened to his breathing, and panicked every time he brought up the remnants of his bottle.

I panicked too; of course I did. I could justify it in my own head, though, in those moments. I could tell myself that babies get sick when they've been greedy with food. Leah couldn't. Every second that Teddy did anything other than make the usual noises, Leah couldn't hide the panic on her face.

It was hard for anyone but me to understand, and similarly, it was hard for others to understand that I wasn't blind to it. I knew she was struggling. She trusted me, though, and I had to maintain that by being normal around her until such times as she felt comfortable acknowledging it. The appointment was the first step, but I always knew Leah would run from it. I knew she wouldn't be able to talk, but I also knew that it would give her that sense of actively doing something about it. Amanda and I had our first ever argument over it—something I never thought I would say.