aeon

nine

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are all new beginnings for the best? i had believed that was the case, until i was laying in the hospital bed with an entirely numb feeling i wanted to never go through again. i had hoped that the numbness would wear off, much like lidocaine did. i was stuck at a new beginning; one i did not need nor asked for.

i stared blankly at the beige wall in front of me for hours on end, unaware of the time passing me by. my family and jane's were beside me most of the time, each of them taking turns visiting the nursery. i couldn't help but keep my eyes concentrated on the empty wall. jane's face seemingly danced upon it. i saw flashes of her smile, and her entrancing eyes, and her laughing, also her tilting her head when i would say something that expressed my love, and her blushing face accompanied with shy eyes. i still saw jane, and it only numbed me further.

i knew she would hate me for the way i was acting, and for not yet seeing our child. she would probably tell me to get my ass up and put her heart to good use. "michael, they're so beautiful. won't you go see for yourself? or the nurse can bring them in a little crib." my mother didn't want to reveal the sex of the baby, even though they were already out into the world. yes, i desperately wanted to see the bundle of love jane and i had created, but i was terrified.

i wasn't ready. i wasn't ready to do it all alone. i wasn't ready to be the single father; a widow. i most definitely wasn't ready to see the face that could very likely resemble my angel's when i could no longer see hers after a long day of work. i felt lost, and forced down a spiral of perplexity.

the baby was also two weeks early and needed a close eye due to the accident, and i was just operated on and in recovery, so i couldn't do much except lie in one spot and live out a nightmare. everyone said they were a fussy little thing , constantly crying, or wanting to cry. i felt immense guilt.

i knew i was the person that baby should be with. i was the one that the should be depending on, and i should be there. yet here i was, mourning in solitude with an ache in my chest i could not distinguish from post-surgical pain, or complete and utter sorrow.

although i had entranced myself in the blandness of the beige hospital wall in my room, i heard the words exchanged between jane's mother and mine. "such an unhappy baby, you'd think he knew what's going on." the guilt blossomed into a full fledged forest of culpability. "tried holding him and shushing him, even gave him a bottle, but he kept crying." and then i felt a sole tear fall from my right eye. they were trying their best to whisper, and they certainly were, just not as quietly as they had hoped. my mother must have noticed the sudden surge of salty tears because i seemed to be embraced in her arms in an instant.

him.

he was unhappy. he could not stop crying. he went through the accident with my jane and was the one to survive which is everything she would have wanted. he was named william, and i needed to finally meet him.

i sat in front of the window that displayed the rows of squirming infants swaddled in provided blankets and covered in a cap. apparently it was common to not be able to easily point out your child when you've not the slightest clue as to what they look like, who would've thought? regardless, i felt awful as i was scanning the rows and not being quite sure about which kid was mine.

but then the nurse in the room with them stopped at a baby and it all made sense. he was william, and he was half of myself and half of the person i wanted next to me. she lifted the poor crying child into her arms and walked out of the room with him to meet me behind the glass. it was all became very real.

my palms were sweaty and i felt an actual pounding in my chest rather then the weaker beats i was used to. i heard the crying, and it broke my heart all over again. seeing the nurse in her purple scrubs round the corner with the small being cradled in her arms, i wanted to crumble. i wanted to drop to my knees and curse at the universe for letting me be the one to greet this baby when it should have been jane.

it seemed that all of the training on holding a baby we learned in parenting classes slipped my mind. i wasn't sure how i should position my arms, or if the entire head was to be supported or just the neck. i wanted to freeze up and give myself a minute to think, but the world moves at a pace faster than any of us would like.

william was crying, and no one knew how to stop it, and i wondered if his little heart hurt too, if he could sense the missing link and was upset he would be stuck with me.

he was placed in my arms, and the world went silent. quite literally, everything became silent. my mother's chatter with the nurse came to a halt, the phones at the desk behind us quit ringing, the guilt in my head finally shut up, and william's crying was no more.

his small head lulled to the spot over my bandaged chest, above my stitches up incision, and the distress was wiped from his delicate features. suddenly, with every beat of my heart, i saw the remnants of my dream as he settled to the rhythm of the beating in my chest.

jane had soothed our son, yet she wasn't even here.

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