up.
The mobile above her crib—a colorful array of butterflies, june bugs, blossoms, and Tinker Bell in its center—moved gently in the breeze of the ceiling fan. The blinds were drawn, the curtains closed. The rocker sat silently next to her crib, covered in white linen, its footstool soiled with black shoe polish streaks from Jack’s shoes.
I emptied the shopping bags, one by one, placed every item in baskets on the white shelf, convinced that as long as I kept her room in order, I could also keep the chaos at bay. I took out the clothes and reached for the scissors to cut off the tags.
The cold metal rested in my hand. Before I even cut off a single tag, Jack walked in, Mia in his arms. She was quiet and her eyes scanned aimlessly about. Then she focused on the ceiling fan. Jack placed Mia’s body against my chest, and kissed me on the forehead.
“I have to go to work, I’m already running late.”
I needed him to stay home, but I didn’t know how to ask for it. Jack gently brushed Mia’s cheek with the back of his index finger. Her lips opened and the pacifier popped out of her mouth as if giving way to the pressure inside of her. Her lips searched for their comfort and came up empty. Her face contorted.
The front door slammed shut. Jack was gone and so was Mia’s composure.
I held her inches away from my body, as if distance between us could soothe her, take the edge off her discontent with my presence. She broke out in a wail, its volume increasing with every passing second. I turned to place her on the changing table when my eyes caught a glimpse of a shiny silver object. The light and the turning blades of the fan created ghostly shadows that prompted me to pick up the scissors and cradle them in my palm.Her body seemed to be vibrating, her crimson face determined to ignore the need to fill her lungs with air.
I willed myself to ignore the scissors, but they seemed to pulsate as if they had a life of their own. I pinched my eyes shut, yet the scissors floated up and toward me, first only inches, and then farther up, turning their sharp points toward Mia’s skull, determined to release the glowing demon underneath its connective tissue.
I gently placed Mia in her crib. As I pulled my hands up from under her body, I prayed that she would survive. Despite me.
That day, I knew I was capable of anything, capable of silencing her cries. That’s when I knew her life was at stake. And I screamed and for the first time the volume of my screams topped hers.
Jack’s “few hours” always turned into a full twelve-hour workday. As I pressed my forehead against the window, waiting for his return, I tried to recall how long he had been avoiding all physical contact. When was the last time he had hugged or kissed me, and for how long had he been secretive? Jack was becoming more and more detached, icy even, barely talking to me. Working late was no longer an exception but a rule and his distance added more insecurities to my already frazzled thoughts.
I watched Jack exiting a sleek black town car. When he walked through the front door, his eyes were two seas of silent reproach.
“Sorry, I’m late,” he said, meaning
If you had picked up the dry cleaning, I’d have been on time.
And
with all the time you have, why isn’t dinner ready and why is the house still a mess?
“Took me forever to get a cab,” he added.
His briefcase was already open, his BlackBerry in his hand.
“A cab?” Hadn’t I just seen him exiting a town car?
We stared at each other for a moment, then I lowered my gaze. I knew I had changed physically, I could see it in Jack’s eyes every time he looked at me. I weighed about as much as I did in high school, maybe even less. My facial features seemed to have corrodedand I had aged a decade in the past two months. Before Mia, I had a haircut every couple of months. I used to go to the gym, yoga, Pilates, you name it. I never seemed to have any energy anymore.
“You said you’d
The mobile above her crib—a colorful array of butterflies, june bugs, blossoms, and Tinker Bell in its center—moved gently in the breeze of the ceiling fan. The blinds were drawn, the curtains closed. The rocker sat silently next to her crib, covered in white linen, its footstool soiled with black shoe polish streaks from Jack’s shoes.
I emptied the shopping bags, one by one, placed every item in baskets on the white shelf, convinced that as long as I kept her room in order, I could also keep the chaos at bay. I took out the clothes and reached for the scissors to cut off the tags.
The cold metal rested in my hand. Before I even cut off a single tag, Jack walked in, Mia in his arms. She was quiet and her eyes scanned aimlessly about. Then she focused on the ceiling fan. Jack placed Mia’s body against my chest, and kissed me on the forehead.
“I have to go to work, I’m already running late.”
I needed him to stay home, but I didn’t know how to ask for it. Jack gently brushed Mia’s cheek with the back of his index finger. Her lips opened and the pacifier popped out of her mouth as if giving way to the pressure inside of her. Her lips searched for their comfort and came up empty. Her face contorted.
The front door slammed shut. Jack was gone and so was Mia’s composure.
I held her inches away from my body, as if distance between us could soothe her, take the edge off her discontent with my presence. She broke out in a wail, its volume increasing with every passing second. I turned to place her on the changing table when my eyes caught a glimpse of a shiny silver object. The light and the turning blades of the fan created ghostly shadows that prompted me to pick up the scissors and cradle them in my palm.Her body seemed to be vibrating, her crimson face determined to ignore the need to fill her lungs with air.
I willed myself to ignore the scissors, but they seemed to pulsate as if they had a life of their own. I pinched my eyes shut, yet the scissors floated up and toward me, first only inches, and then farther up, turning their sharp points toward Mia’s skull, determined to release the glowing demon underneath its connective tissue.
I gently placed Mia in her crib. As I pulled my hands up from under her body, I prayed that she would survive. Despite me.
That day, I knew I was capable of anything, capable of silencing her cries. That’s when I knew her life was at stake. And I screamed and for the first time the volume of my screams topped hers.
Jack’s “few hours” always turned into a full twelve-hour workday. As I pressed my forehead against the window, waiting for his return, I tried to recall how long he had been avoiding all physical contact. When was the last time he had hugged or kissed me, and for how long had he been secretive? Jack was becoming more and more detached, icy even, barely talking to me. Working late was no longer an exception but a rule and his distance added more insecurities to my already frazzled thoughts.
I watched Jack exiting a sleek black town car. When he walked through the front door, his eyes were two seas of silent reproach.
“Sorry, I’m late,” he said, meaning
If you had picked up the dry cleaning, I’d have been on time.
And
with all the time you have, why isn’t dinner ready and why is the house still a mess?
“Took me forever to get a cab,” he added.
His briefcase was already open, his BlackBerry in his hand.
“A cab?” Hadn’t I just seen him exiting a town car?
We stared at each other for a moment, then I lowered my gaze. I knew I had changed physically, I could see it in Jack’s eyes every time he looked at me. I weighed about as much as I did in high school, maybe even less. My facial features seemed to have corrodedand I had aged a decade in the past two months. Before Mia, I had a haircut every couple of months. I used to go to the gym, yoga, Pilates, you name it. I never seemed to have any energy anymore.
“You said you’d
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