Chapter 24
It was close to 2a.m. when Bella was ripped out of deep sleep by her baby’s ferocious wailing. She turned on the sidelight. Don had woken up too.
She lifted her screaming son out of his crib and put him against her breast. He sucked like hell and it was starting to really, really hurt. She gritted her teeth and watched his jaw moving up and down. ‘Oh no—’ she turned to Don. ‘This is so painful. I don’t think I can let him drink much more.’
Her bleary-eyed husband mumbled something sympathetic.
Bella put her finger down to Markie’s mouth to break the suction and took him off. He burst into desperate screams again. Quickly she put him back on her other breast. She watched the little face working up and down and tried not to think about the raw pain coming from her nipples.
After about three minutes, she swapped sides again, then several minutes later she swapped back. She couldn’t take it any more. Surely, he must have had enough by now. She broke him off again and was horrified to hear his anguished cries.
She rocked him a little bit, then put him back in his crib. Maybe he was just tired and needed to go back to sleep now.
He screamed furiously at her and balled up his little fists. Maybe he needed a new nappy. She picked him up and stumbled through to the bathroom with him, she undid buttons and opened the tiny nappy while the pink legs kicked against her and Markie screamed so hard that his jaw was trembling.
In the nappy was a small solid black mess. Bella filled with relief. OK, as soon as this was changed, he’d settle down and feel much better.
She fumbled her way through the process and headed back to the bedroom. Don was already half asleep. Bella put Markie into the crib and he screamed even harder. She patted him and spoke gently to him, but he was inconsolable.
‘I don’t know what it is,’ Bella turned to Don.
‘Turn out the lights, I’m sure he’ll settle down,’ Don mumbled.
In darkness they lay listening to the anguished crying. Bella felt so tired she could barely move and yet the crying pierced her and it was impossible to lie there.
She leaned over and scooped Markie out of his crib again. She rocked him in her arms – no change – she hauled herself out of bed and began to hobble painfully round the room holding Markie up against her shoulder and patting his back.
An age later, he finally stopped crying against her shoulder. She leaned over the crib to put him down and the wailing started up again.
‘Oh no!’ she cried in desperation and sank onto the bed. ‘I can’t feed him again, it’s too sore,’ she wailed. ‘And I’ve got to get some sleep!’
Don dragged himself up and said, ‘Let me have a go.’
He picked up the screaming baby and walked round the bed with him, then he started singing something indecipherable and astonishingly tuneless. Bella watched the digital minutes stack up on the bedside clock. It took sixteen minutes before Markie was asleep again.
Don eased him into the crib, then collapsed back onto the bed. Less than three hours later, they were woken again by the wail of a hungry baby.
Another four nights passed exactly like this. And now Bella began to wonder if she was actually going to survive. She felt dizzy and ill with tiredness. Her head was pounding and more than anything else in the world she wanted to sleep, but she felt so desperately needed by this tiny, helpless baby. Her nipples hurt excruciatingly as Markie drank and she was balancing him awkwardly against her as she couldn’t even sit up properly because her stitches were so painful.
Tonight, Don had fallen straight back to sleep beside her and it was impossible not to fill up with rage. Bastard, she thought, how dare he not have to stay awake and breastfeed? He could damn well wind and change the nappy and then change the outfit which usually got puked on just when the nappy changing was over.
She looked into the little baby eyes which were wide open and fixed on her and at the furrowed brow and tiny, perfect fingernails and she knew she was completely, helplessly, hopelessly in love. Markie was making her life utter hell but she adored him.
Just the kind of dependent relationship I’ve been trying to avoid for ten years and here I am desperate to please a needy, greedy, ungrateful little man.
She stroked his cheek. ‘You are,’ she said gently, ‘a needy, greedy, ungrateful little man.’ The baby sucked contentedly.
The next morning, she took Don’s advice and went back to bed after their late breakfast. As she walked up the stairs, she had to face the fact that finally she was going to have to go to the loo, and not just for a pee.
It was a terrifying prospect… what if the stitches ripped? Or everything tore? Or she passed out with the pain?
OK…
The experience was painful and a little bloody, but the stitches all seemed to be in place. But the piles… good grief! Surely, the technological advantages of living in the twenty-first century had to include not having to put up with horrendous postpartum piles.
Back in the bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed and felt as if she had only just fallen into a jumbled sleep when Don was at her bedside holding a red, screaming Markie.
‘What’s the matter?’ Bella asked, shaken out of her exhaustion.
‘He’s just hungry. He’s been awake for about forty-five minutes and I’ve been carrying him around, trying to distract him so you could sleep for a bit longer.’
‘Thanks, Don.’ She glanced up at him. His eyes were ringed too and he was sprouting a healthy coat of stubble. ‘Why don’t you go for a shower while I feed him?’ she said.
‘OK. Then I’ll make some lunch, shall I?’
‘Yeah, thanks, packed with raw veg, packed… I can’t talk to you about the traumas of going to the loo right now.’
‘Oh God,’ he groaned, as she lifted her top and put the baby against her breast.
‘Too much information?’ she asked.
‘No… I’ve just remembered how long it is before we can have sex again.’
She laughed now for what felt like the first time in days. ‘Forget it! They’ve stapled me shut and even if they hadn’t, I am never going through childbirth again. So, I’ll need medical documents to prove your vasectomy has been a complete success before letting you near.’
Now, they both laughed and wondered how much of that was true.
Don made lunch and later on, he made supper. He was a pretty domesticated man, but the household was deteriorating round them fast. The bedroom laundry basket was overflowing with tiny vests and babygros stained bright yellow with baby poo. The kitchen was grubby and cluttered with dirty dishes; everywhere needed to be hoovered.
‘I’m going out for a walk, get some newspapers, try and clear the head a bit,’ Don announced.
‘Sounds nice,’ Bella said. ‘Sounds normal. I’m looking forward to a bit of normal…’
When would that be, she wondered. In three months? Six months? A year?