And some more...

"I'm fine...I just ate too much," she kept her voice as level as she could. But she wanted to scream and yell at him just to let out some of her frustrations. She leaned over the toilet one more time, letting it all spew out as she felt her gut contract and heave. She coughed coarsely as she stood and made an effort to compose herself. She turned the faucet on and splashed her face with ice cold water. She looked into the mirror and saw those eyes again. The dark circles and shadows, haunting and hallow.

She stepped out of the bathroom and peered around the corner into the living room, where she knew he was sitting in his recliner, soda in one hand, magazine in his lap and the remote in his other hand. She tiptoed across the hall and into the baby’s room. She shut the door quietly and walked softly to the rocking chair that was only a few feet in front of the baby’s crib. She sat down slowly, her eyes gazing at the slumbering bundle of sweetness in the crib. She took a long, deep breath and leaned in towards the crib, putting her face in between two bars and inhaled the scent. She pulled her hands out from her lap and reached over the rail and gently caressed her little prince’s hands, standing slightly. Little, perfect teardrops welled in her eyes as she thought of the miracle it took to get this tiny person here. I did it once, dammit, I could do it again, she thought angrily. She felt her mind spinning again with an array of angry, disappointed thoughts. Such a tease, this seemed to her. To have a tasted of the delightfulness of bearing life and bringing life into the world, only to have that gift ripped from her. As greedy as it seemed, one wasn’t enough for her. Her dreams of raising a big family all being washed down the drain; flushed down that porcelain perch. It seemed utterly, devastatingly unfair. The world is supposed to balance itself. It didn’t seem very balanced with teenagers popping babies out left and right while she, who had better resources to raise another child, was left believing there would never be another one for her. She bowed her head in prayer, pleading and begging. Perhaps whining more so than asking for answers or guidance.

She heard the door creak softly. He was in the doorway. She could sense him. She lifted her head and their eyes met. They locked eyes for a few minutes, saying everything and nothing with their gazes. Her head dropped first as she looked down at her feet and sighed sadly. He walked in slowly, quietly. He reached down and fingered a few strands of her hair. She remained stiff. His hand dropped as his emotions rose. He closed his eyes, turned away, and continued on over to the crib, peering down at his son. He felt his heart fill with pride and deepening ardor. All the disappointments in his life amounted to nothing when he glanced at his growing boy. 

“He recognizes the letter W, I and J. He can count to ten pretty well. And today I taught him how to sing happy birthday…” her voice was sweet, and he could hear her adoration for the little one. How he wished he could hear the same enthusiasm from her when she spoke of them, their life, their future.

“We started working on the potty training a little bit today. He hasn’t gotten the concept of aiming, hence the bleach smell in the bathroom,” she smiled fondly as she spoke. He turned to her and smiled, knowing the boy was the safe topic. It felt so wrong to hide behind something so precious and innocent. But here they were, barely able to talk to each other civilly unless the subject matter was the boy. The boy. He took her hands and smothered them in his gigantic hands.

“He is smart like his mama. And stubborn like his daddy…” his voice cracked.