AOIFE
Sleep deprivation had weakened me, leading to the regrettable text I sent in the dead of night.
Exhaustion had taken hold, making it harder to ignore the regret gnawing at me.
That’s why Joey was sitting at the edge of my hospital bed at eight o’clock on Thursday morning.
Dressed in a freshly ironed Tommen uniform, with our son nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm, he seemed far more at ease with this parenting role than I could ever hope to be.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, feeding AJ his bottle. His bottle.
Another pained sob escaped me. I couldn’t get him to latch.
I couldn’t seem to do anything right.
The second night with our son had been an even bigger disaster than the first, and I was beginning to think that AJ didn’t like me.
“You’re just tired,” Joey said, setting the empty bottle aside and reaching for my hand. “You’ve got this, Molloy.”
“No, Joe, I really don’t,” I croaked, fighting the overwhelming urge to scream. “Everyone was right. I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted, releasing my hand to settle AJ against his shoulder. “I promise you can,” he continued, shifting closer to tuck me under his free arm. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
“It won’t be,” I muttered, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. “I’m a terrible mom.” Another sob wracked through my chest. “He h-hates me. He n-never c-cries for you. I c-can’t even f-feed him p-properly.”
“Bullshit.” I watched as Joey expertly winded our son. “You’re not a terrible mom.” Handling AJ with the skill of a seasoned parent, Joey changed his diaper and put him into a clean onesie. “You’re panicking, and he can sense it,” he explained gently. “Once you relax, he will too.” After cradling AJ for a moment, Joey placed him in his bassinet and returned to me. “You’re exhausted, Molloy. You’re dealing with a lot right now, and that little baby adores you, okay?” He sat down on the bed, carefully pulling me onto his lap. “And don’t worry about how he’s fed, as long as he’s fed.”
“But Mam said I should be breastfeeding.“
“I don’t care what your mother said,” he countered, tightening his hold on me. “I’m his father, and I’m telling you he’s fine. He’s guzzling his bottles, gaining weight, and thriving. There’s nothing to worry about, Molloy.”
“I hate being here on my own,” I admitted, burying my face in his new school jumper. “Nighttime is the worst.”
“You know I would’ve stayed with you if I could,” he replied, his voice strained. “But they kick partners out at midnight.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, clinging to him. “I know.”
“You’re coming home today,” he coaxed. “And I’ll be over right after school, okay? I’ll bring a bag and stay at your place.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “I’ll do the night feeds tonight, okay? All I want you to do is breathe and take it easy until I get back. Your mom will be here in an hour. Let her help you.”
Don’t leave me.
Please don’t leave me.
“I don’t want to go,” he said in a pained voice, clearly reading my thoughts. “But if I don’t show up, I’ll be in trouble with my doctors—”
“It’s okay,” I quickly cut in, desperate to avoid this conversation while feeling so fragile. “I’ll see you after school.”
“You will,” he assured me. “And then we’ll talk, okay? I actually have something I want to discuss with you and your parents.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. “We’ll figure this out.” He kissed me again. “We’ll make this work, Molloy.”
