Chapter 36
Abby
Two Weeks
These have been the most wonderful and most exhausting weeks of my life. Everyone keeps asking me how I feel now that Little One is earthside, and I truly can’t find the words. How do I explain that it feels like my own life didn’t really start until I saw her face?
So much is happening at once that I can’t even begin to comprehend it all.
The house has been a revolving door of visitors, which has honestly been a godsend.
A few weeks ago I got a group photo of everyone–my dad and brother, Alan and Andrea, Ellie, Griffin, and David–at the local CVS getting all their vaccines updated so they could safely be around Erin.
I didn’t even think to ask them to do that, and I cried for a solid thirty minutes.
Jack came home with us from the hospital and hasn’t left Erin’s side (or mine) since.
I know I would have figured this parenting thing out–I might have been a lot less mentally stable, but I could have handled it on my own.
Women do this all the time, and I have no doubt I could have too if it really came down to it.
“But you’re not on your own,” Jack said when I suggested he get out of the house for a few hours, trying to convince him that I can do this on my own. “Why would I let you do that when you don’t have to?”
I didn’t bring it up again.
Instead, I accepted, albeit occasionally begrudgingly, all the help I could get.
Either someone lied to me, or I chose to ignore any warnings about what the physical recovery is like after giving birth.
PSA for anyone considering the miracle of life–it’s a fucking wreck down there.
No amount of lidocaine spray in the world can make up for the aftermath of pushing the equivalent of a small watermelon out of my vagina.
Did I know that tearing is common? Yes. Did I actually understand what tearing would be like? Hell no.
This is where that revolving door I mentioned has been my saving grace.
As helpful as Jack is, and as doting as the grandparents are, there are just some things I do not want their help with, i.e.
, getting my mangled body into an epsom salt bath, or helping me figure out the damn breast pump.
I’ve never been more thankful for Ellie in my entire life.
But every bit of the rollercoaster of recovery becomes a distant memory when I look at my sweet baby girl.
I would go through all of this and more a thousand times over again if she was at the end of it.
For as much as the grief of losing Aaron ripped me apart, Little One has stitched me back together.
“Hi, pretty girls,” Jack says softly, rapping his knuckles on the doorframe to get my attention. “How are we doing today?”
“Perfect,” I sigh happily. “Absolutely perfect. Do you think the newborn magic will ever wear off? I hope it doesn’t.”
“I think there will always be new magic to find with her,” he muses, peering over the edge of the bassinet where Erin is sleeping soundly. “I know I find something new every day. Maybe every hour.”
“She really is a miracle,” I whisper, reaching over to stoke her cheek softly. “I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
“I can’t believe I get a front row view to this,” he mutters, seemingly to himself.
He sits down on the edge of the bed by my feet, resting his hand on my leg and rubbing gentle circles across my ankle.
He tears his gaze away from Little One to look at me, and the adoration on his face would make me weak in the knees if I wasn’t already laying down.
“From where I’m sitting, there are two miracles in this room. I’m just so proud of you, Abby.”
“Oh Jack Robbit, you old softy,” I say, my cheeks flushing slightly. “I’ve seen you show more emotion in the last two weeks than I have in the last fifteen years.”
“I can’t help it,” he says. “I know I’m just a bystander in this, but that little girl has completely changed my life. So has her mom.”
“Even if she won’t stop calling me that,” he jokes, thankfully lifting the weight of the moment.
There’s been something overwhelming about watching Jack with Little One–the way he intuitively knows how to help before I can even ask, how gentle he is with her, how much he savors every moment with her.
I think he’d gladly go to hell and back for her. For both of us.
He’s also supported me in ways I didn’t know I would need.
The post-birth hormone crash was a shock to the system, and he has been there diligently through every high and low.
The intense spectrum of emotions has been vast–from absolute euphoria and bliss to crippling despair and heartache, if there’s an emotion that exists in the world, I have experienced it.
He’s been an anchor, a support, a steadfast presence that keeps me tethered when I feel like I’m going to unravel completely.
I am overjoyed by my tiny love, and devastated to my core that her father isn’t here to see her.
Every day there’s something new, and every day there’s something else Aaron isn’t here for.
Managing the coexistence of incomparable joy and unbearable grief is a full-time job in and of itself, and the only reason I’m surviving right now is because of my friends and family. But especially Jack.
Friend doesn’t feel like a strong enough word for him anymore. Even ‘best friend’ or ‘family’ doesn’t quite describe it. Somehow in this insane story that’s been weaved over the last nine months, we’ve been tied together in a way I don’t fully understand.
“What’s on your mind?” Jack asks, interrupting my pondering.
“Just trying to take it all in,” I answer vaguely, smiling softly.
“Don’t worry,” he says, pushing off the bed. “I’ve been taking so many goddamn pictures. And I’ve learned how to journal. At least I think I have.”
“I haven’t pulled my journal out once,” I lament, leaning over and opening the drawer of my bedside table, pulling out the embroidered moleskin I’ve used for years. “It’s going by too fast, I don’t want to miss a moment of it.”
“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he says reassuringly. “I’ll keep writing it all down until you can do it yourself. I’ll make sure you have every detail to look back on. Even if it’s from a dumbass boy perspective.”
“You’re not a dumbass boy,” I chide. “You’re a dumbass man.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You versus David.”
He laughs loudly, and Erin stirs, her eyes slowly blinking open.
“Shit, sorry,” he whispers as I lift her into my arms.
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “It’s time to feed anyway. Are you hungry, Little One?”
She lets out the tiniest squeak, squirming around like she actually understood what I was talking about and is beyond stoked for her very favorite thing–the boob.
I unclasp my nursing bra, settling her into position. It took some effort to get the hang of breastfeeding, and I completely understand why some moms don’t do it. To be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep it up, but for now I’m soaking in these moments of closeness.
I stifle a giggle when I see that Jack has turned his back, determined to be a gentleman. No matter how many times I’ve told him that I don’t care, he refuses to look my way when my tit’s out, even for nursing.
“I just want to give you your privacy,” he said the first time I brought it up.
“Jack, you were in the room when I was wide open for the world to see,” I laughed. “If you can handle that, I think you can handle seeing my nipple.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t looking,” he grumbled. “I never took my eyes off of your face.”
I didn’t have much of an argument after that.
“Anyway,” he says, not turning around until I promise I’m covered up again. “Ellie should be here in a few minutes. Are you okay if I go to the station real quick? I just want to check in and make sure nothing has gone catastrophically wrong. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Take as long as you need, Jacky boy,” I say. “You’ve been here nonstop, take a break.”
“If you’re not taking a break, I’m not taking a break,” he huffs. “You’re stuck with me until you have me banned from this house.”
I bite my lip as a stab of guilt pierces my chest. He might not begrudge me for kicking him out the way I did a month ago, but I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.
“I love being stuck with you,” I say softly. “I don’t want that to change. I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”
“Being here for that little girl is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he croaks, voice suddenly full of emotion. “I will gladly, willingly be trapped here for as long as you want.”
“We love you, Jack,” I say, my voice equally thick with feeling. “Beyond words.”
“I love you too, pretty girl. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I nod, desperately trying to tamper down the tidal wave of conflicting feelings rising in my chest when Ellie sweeps into the room and crawls into bed right next to me.
“Hi my sweet ginger angel,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. Propping herself up on her elbow, she looks across me to where Erin is once again slumbering peacefully. “And hello my sweet tiny ginger angel.”
“Hi, Auntie Ellie,” I say, looping my arm through hers and leaning my head on her shoulder. Jack nods and makes his leave, but pauses for one final look at my perfect girl before quietly gathering his things and heading out.
“He might steal her from you if you’re not careful,” Ellie chuckles. “I think he’s more infatuated with her than you are.”
“Not a chance in the world,” I scoff, poking her ribcage with my elbow. “But he really has been above and beyond. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“You’d be just fine, mama,” she says. “But I’m glad you’re not alone. Even though you’re not doing a very convincing job of showing me he’s not replacing me.”
“How many times do I have to tell you he could never replace you?” I croon. “It’s not his fault you have a husband to care for and can’t move in here.”
“I am two seconds away from sending Jack to shack up with Griffin so we can have an all girls house.”
“That would go over like a lead balloon,” I snort. “I think Griffin would go into physical withdrawals if you were gone for more than one night.”
“Maybe it would be good for him then,” she counters. “Codependency and all that.”
“Oh hush,” I say. “He’s not codependent, he’s just disgustingly in love with you.”
“Don’t I know it,” she sighs happily. “I still can’t believe we ended up together after everything.”
“Eleanor Hart, you know damn well he would have waited for you forever.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she says sheepishly.
“I miss having that,” I say softly, sadness creeping up unexpectedly, as it tends to do. “I miss being loved that deeply.”
“I know, my love,” she says sadly. “You’re loved beyond measure, but I know it’s not the same. Maybe you’ll have that again someday.”
I shake my head in reply. There’s never been anyone for me but Aaron, and now there will never be anyone for me but Erin. And that’s okay.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “But that’s okay. I have this little bundle of love, and that’s enough for me.”
A strange look passes over her face, like she wants to argue with me, but she doesn’t speak again. Instead, she lays her head on top of mine, and before long we're just three girls napping soundly in the comfort of each other’s presence.