Now I've got you in my space
I won't let go of you
Got you shackled in my embrace
I'm latchin' onto you
I'm so encaptured, got me wrapped up in your touch
Feel so enamoured, hold me tight within your clutch
How do you do it?
You've got me losing every breath
What did you give me to make my heart beat out my chest?
Latch x Disclosure feat. Sam Smith
Beckham
3 weeks postpartum
Today is the day I've been dreading, the day Jake goes back to work. We were so fortunate that he was given any leave at all to stay home with us at all (I think Mav pulled a few strings for that to happen), but I unknowingly became absolutely emotionally dependent on him. About two weeks ago, I was in my happy love bubble, soaking up the joy in the little family we built, when Jake needed to run to the store to grab some more wipes. He was gone maybe 10 minutes before my mind starting racing with all the possibilities of what could happen to him during his short trek down to the nearest Kroger. Emmy was snoozing away in her swing while I worked on some laundry when my heart started pounding. I tried taking deep, steadying breaths to try and calm myself down, but had no such luck. Next thing I know, my breathing gets more shallow and I huddle into the corner of the couch, hoping I'll come down from it. That's the last thing I remember before Jake's voice cuts through the fog surrounding me, his warm hands on either side of my face, eyes darting around trying to find the source of danger.
"Beck, darlin', I need you to look at me," the vibration of his voice brought my eyes back into focus and finally lock on his. Just like the day he found me in the locker room, he placed my palm against his heart and let the steady rhythm soothe me. "There's my girl. What happened, sweetheart? Is everything ok?"
I took a deep breath before I replied. "Yeah, we're ok. One second I was folding your boxers and the next I was worrying about all the things that could happen to you while you were out. I guess I had a little panic attack, it's the first time I've been away from you in a while," I admit sheepishly.
"Oh, angel. I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about that," Jake says, clearly bothered by the fact that I was upset.
"No, no, honey. It was just a little overreaction. With all the craziness that's gone on, I'm surprised I made it this long without one," I forced out a laugh.
"You sure you're ok? Should I call your doctor or anything?"
"I'm fine, beasty. Don't worry about me," I smiled and kissed his lips.
Jake has left the house quite a few more times since then, but the panic I feel when he's away from me doesn't subside in the slightest. Jake is, of course, completely unaware that I feel that way, because I don't want to burden him with any more stress. I don't want him going back to work, worried about whether or not I'm losing my shit when other people's lives are on the line. Don't get me wrong, it's not because I don't feel safe in my own home. Not only are Carter and Karrie...no longer threats, but the crew installed a top of the line security system while we were still in the hospital. I think that was more for their own piece of mind than my own though. They all beat themselves up over my kidnapping and finally forgave themselves for not being able to have a handle on things they have no control over.
"Alright short stack, I gotta head out," Jake says with a frown before he leans over the back of the couch to kiss me. "Are you sure you're ok? I'm sure Mav will understand if I have to push it back an extra day."
"I'm sure, handsome. I promise I'll call if I need anything. Plus, Emmy Jett and I can always take a field trip to the hangar if need be," I try to reassure him.
With one more sweet kiss, Jake heads out for the day. I do what I can to distract myself from the fact that I'm away from Jake while Emmy sleeps by tidying up the house where's it's needed. Around 10am, I take the time to shower and wash my hair, momentarily grateful that I have a good sleeper. I step out of the shower, wrap myself in a towel, and head to the closet. I go through several outfits, more displeased with how I look with every article of clothing I put on than the last. I finally settle on one of Jake's old Navy tank tops and some of my maternity leggings, feeling like Baymax from that Disney movie Big Hero Six; overly inflated in the belly. Gross. Thankfully, the shirt is loose and comfy and hides my flabby belly. I'm hoping I get back to pre-Emmy shape super quickly, I've been told breastfeeding helps you lose the weight quicker, so that's an extra perk to nursing my girl. I'm rubbing the last bit of moisturizer onto my face when Emmy starts to fuss.
"Well hello there, my gorgeous girl! Is your little tummy hungry?" I coo as my fingers across her tiny tummy. I pick her up and carry her to rocker, which is also where Jake set up a "nursing station" in our bedroom. That man, I swear. Always so thoughtful. Jake has a little basket set up with bottles of water and snacks for me, and burp cloths and wipes for Emmy. I grab the Boppy pillow laid in the seat and settle in. With Emmy laid on top of the pillow, I pull up my tank, unlatch my nursing bra, and lift her to my breast to latch. I'm admittedly pleased to have found a nursing bra that doesn't look like it belongs to an 80 year old grandma. Thank you, internet, for that discovery. My stomach growls, and I consider grabbing one of the snacks in the basket. Nah, I need to be burning more calories than I take in, I think to myself. Emmy nurses to her little belly's content before I burp her and find a sweet little outfit for her to wear to the hangar.
I text Jake, letting him know to expect his girls in the next half hour and to send his lunch request. Apparently he proudly announced we were coming, prompting the rest of the crew to send me their lunch orders as well. With a big bow on her head, Emmy is tucked in her car seat and I quickly flip over and tie my hair up in a messy bun. I chuckle when I realize can officially claim it to be a mom bun and get away with the laziness without judgement. After a quick stop at our favorite hole in the wall BBQ place, I'm flashing my ID card to the gate guard and pulling up to the most non traditional office setting in no time. I hop out of the driver's seat and pop open my trunk to pull out the stroller that Emmy's seat easily clicks into, then tuck the mini mountain of food into the basket at the bottom. Apparently hearing the doors shut upon arrival, Jake has bolted out to meet me in the parking lot.
"My girls are here!" he beams as he tucks me into his side and kisses the side of my head. "I missed you," he murmurs, lips still pressed in my hair.
A wave of relief washes over me at the contact, slightly surprising me. I didn't realize how tense I was and his touch relaxes every muscle in my body.
"We missed you more. How's your first day back to being a badass after being the picture of domesticity for the last few weeks?" I tease.
"I didn't realize how much of dad mode I already used keeping these hooligans in line, Mav must dye his hair to cover all the gray they cause," he chuckles. "You two definitely have better snuggles though. Now come on, we're all ready to see y'all. We might also be pretty hungry! Did you grab something to eat too? I know you get pretty busy being the best mama ever and forget to feed yourself sometimes."
I ignore the grumble in my stomach and hope Jake doesn't hear it over the sounds of jets in the background. "I'm not hungry just yet, but I'll probably grab something on the way home. Nothing really sounds to me right now." The last part isn't exactly a lie, nothing sounds as good to me as losing this baby weight quickly does.
Jake eyes me questioningly, but decides to drop it. He keeps his arm wrapped around my shoulders as I push the stroller inside, more than excited to see our friends and have an adult conversation.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
So, moment of transparency. I struggled with severe separation anxiety from my husband when my daughter was born. He had to go back to work long before I did, and I had more than a few mini panic attacks during his first handful of 24 hour shifts back at the station. There's a whole long, detailed story behind it, but I got really close to a scary situation when my girl was born and went through a good long while where I absolutely despised my own body. I was mad at myself for not doing the job I was quite literally made to do and I didn't even have the decency to bounce back as quickly as I did with my son. Anyway, over explanation aside, postpartum depression comes through in so many different ways, but it's 100% ok to not be ok! If anyone ever needs anyone to talk to about it, I'm always here!
Xoxo 💋