Vaughn
After almost a week of our stay in the NICU, we were cleared to bring Atticus home from the hospital. And as you would have it, it proved to be a challenge. We knew our boy was going to have a rough start when he was born a few weeks early. But, his lung growth had been fine, and he was a healthy baby.
But even with the Good news, Briar was overwhelmed. Her OBGYN had diagnosed her with PPA, or postpartum anxiety. We had hired a night nanny to help us get some sleep, and to alleviate Briar's symptoms. Esmeralda was a former pediatric nurse who worked in Boston for almost thirty years before retiring.
But Briar was constantly worried that something was wrong. She called the pediatrician about five times a day, and visited him about four times a week since the day Atticus had been released from the hospital.
I walked into our bedroom, and Briar was lying on the bed trying to get Atticus to eat. I sat down next to her on the bed, and ran my hand through her hair. I could tell my little wife was was frustrated. Atticus wasn't calming down enough to latch correctly, and Briar always became antsy when that happened.
"Here, sweet girl." I reached out for the baby, "Let me take him so you can get a break." I told my little sleep deprived wife, and she ran a hand over her face, "No. He needs to eat."
She reached for him back, and I shook my head, "And you need a minute to take a breather. I'll warm up some frozen milk. Go take a shower or get something to eat."
She gave me a tense look, "You have to-"
"Heat it up under the tap. No microwave. I know, sweet girl." I reached out to hold onto her face and she leaned into my hand with a sad face, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be clipped with you when you're just trying to help." She leaned further into my hand.
"I'm just tired, hungry and need to poop but can't." She let out a breath, and I smiled. I wanted to remind her to utilize Esmeralda, but I knew it wasn't the time.
"Go eat and do whatever else you need to do. Leave the estate if you would like. Take the rest of the day." I reassured her. "Please. For me."
She reluctantly agreed, and after a few hours I had Atticus fed, asleep and in the baby carrier strapped to my chest. We were in the kitchen and I was eating a chicken salad sandwich, when Briar came down the steps. She was freshly showered and while she looked a little better, I could tell she'd been crying.
"Briar," I hummed, reaching out to pull her into my chest the best I could with Atticus strapped to me.
"I'm sorry," She wiped her tears, but I shook my head. "Why don't we call Esmeralda come in here for a few hours so we can lay down?" I asked, and she instantly stiffened. "No." She shook her head.
"Baby, we didn't sleep last night or the night before," or any night before this child has been born, "You need to rest your body. You gave birth, and need to be easier on yourself."
I wanted my little wife to experience motherhood however she wanted. But at the same time, she was being hard on herself. I knew she felt guilty about having a nanny, but we had the resources for one.
I also didn't want to sleep while she was up with the baby. It wasn't fair that I got eight hours of uninterrupted rest, while she had to feed him.
So while the baby ate at night, I sat with Briar while she fed him, and helped her any way I could. The doctor said it could help ease her PPA.
"I'm fine, Vaughn. Seriously." She told me, and went to the fridge to pull out some leftovers from the night before. She ate silently, and I knew she wasn't going to budge on this, and I wasn't going to push her.
After she was done eating, she rubbed at her chest and made an uncomfortable noise.
"I'm feeling full. I'm going to try to get him to eat again." She told me, and unstrapped the baby from my chest.
She went upstairs to Atticus' nursery, and I went into my office to return a phone call to Miles. I had only been in my office for an hour, when Miles was interrupted by my office door flying open. Briar's cheeks were wet with tears, and I immediately stood up from my desk, ending the phone call, "What's wrong?"
"He started breathing funny, and I could see his rib for a few seconds, and google says he needs to go to the ER." She looked up at me with her wide eyes.
I stood quickly and gave the baby a quick once over, looking for any signs of distress. He seemed to be breathing fine.
"Baby-" I started, and she shook her head.
"Vaughn, I'll never forgive myself if something happens." She cried. "Please. We need to go."
Briar
I was sitting on the exam table with Atticus.
Vaughn was across the room with the doctor, both of the men speaking lowly to each other while occasionally looking back to take a peak at me. Saying I was embarrassed was beyond an understatement.
I knew I was the topic of their conversation. This was our third visit to the ER this week alone. And just like the other three times, nothing was wrong with the baby.
Vaughn patted the doctor on the back, "Thank you again, Dr. Bowman. We appreciate it." He told the greying man, and Dr Bowman nodded his head at both Vaughn and I, and then left the room. Vaughn let out a deep breath as he approached me, and he bent down on his haunches right in front of me, "What's wrong, baby?" He asked in such a sincere voice that I wanted to cry.
I felt tears come to my eyes as I started my spiel, "Atticus was breathing funny-" I tried, but he shook his head, "Atticus is perfectly healthy, baby. It's not him I'm worried about. What's upsetting you?"
My mouth opened and then shut again, and Vaughn ran a hand down his face, "I don't mind you taking him to the doctor, Briar. But this just cannot be healthy for you, sweet girl. What's bothering you? Why do you feel the need to take him to the doctor this much?" He asked.
This recently became hard topic for me.
At first, I thought I had the normal new mom anxiety. But then my worry began snowballing, getting worse and worse each day, making it hard for me to breath when Atticus did the smallest thing. And it was so hard for me to admit, because I didn't want Vaughn to think I was insane and not take my concerns seriously, but this was getting out of hand, and I needed to voice myself to Vaughn, and let him try and fix it.
"I'm just so worried about him," I let out heart wrenching cry, and Vaughn took the baby from my arms, and placed him in the bassinet the hospital provided. He pulled me off the exam table and into his strong arms, and held me firmly to his chest. "I just, I never had medical attention when I was a child," I began, and I felt tears flood down my cheeks, "My eardrum burst and I went deaf, and my dad didn't even care. I remember how terrible it was, and how much pain I was in. No one even seemed to even notice. The only reason I got taken to the doctor was because I wouldn't stop crying." I tried to breath, but was choked in another sob. Vaughn held me tighter, and after a few seconds, I continued.
"It was just a simple ear infection," I let out a sniffle, "If they had just given me an antibiotic, just some Amoxicillin I wouldn't be deaf. Then my dad acted like it was my fault I couldn't hear, and shoved me into a closet every chance he got." I harshly wiped away my tears, "And then, whenever something else happened, like my arm getting pulled out of socket because he yanked me too hard when I couldn't hear him, because he thought I was faking it." Vaughn continued wiping my tears with his thumb.
We were both silent for a few beats, Vaughn adjusting to my words as I let out the words I had never said before in my life.
I never had anyone who cared enough to listen.
"I just don't want something to happen to our baby because I didn't want to ask for help, especially medically." I finished, and I looked up at my husband after my emotional rant, and what I saw stunned me. Vaughn was crying too.
He wasn't sobbing like I was, but a few lone tears were streaked down his face. He held onto my head, cradling me against his chest. "I love you, my beautiful, strong little wife." He kissed my forehead, and neither of us said anything after that. There was nothing left to say.
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Thought?!
Only a few chapters left :(