Page 66 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

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Belle

Something was wrong. I knew it the first time I tried to nurse Penny the day after Christmas. I remembered what the nurse at the clinic had said. She was right. Overnight my happy two month-old had become a tyrant. Every time I put her to the breast, she screamed. Smith took turns with me, trying to calm her. The magic of the season seemed to be officially over.

“Can you give her a bottle?” Edward suggested gently after two hours of nonstop screaming.

“I’ll have to pump.” I heaved myself up from the chair I’d collapsed into after Smith had taken for his turn at attempting to calm our little beast. It took me a few minutes to find it. I hadn’t even unpacked it, since I’d never needed to give her a bottle. With Edward’s help, I managed to get it up and running. But half an hour later, barely anything had come out.

Smith appeared in the door of the nursery, Penny sobbing in his arms. She was hungry, and I couldn’t feed her. After everything I’d done, it hadn’t been enough.

“I think my milk is gone,” I said in a hollow voice. I didn’t understand. Doctor Stanton had told me to feed her more and drink the tea. I was due to go in for a follow-up weight check this week, but I already knew that he would tell me. “She needs formula.”

Smith walked over and placed a strong hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, beautiful. Why don’t I run to town and get some? Maybe you need to drink more of that tea?”

I shrugged, swallowing hard. Terrible thoughts screamed in my head drowning out Penny’s wails. Every time I was happy—even for a moment—I was punished. This was my fault. I’d been distracted. I’d spent too much time away from the baby. I hadn’t drank enough of the sodding tea. I wasn’t enough. No matter how hard I tried.

“My turn,” Edward held out his hands. “Go take a minute. She’ll be fine.”

But she wouldn’t be. Not until Smith returned with food. It was her most basic need and I couldn’t provide it. I walked out of the room not really knowing where I was going. I’d woken to feed Penny and this had started. We were all still in robes and pajamas. Smith followed me in and changed.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, giving me a worried look. “Maybe you should come with me.”

I shook my head. “I’m going to take a shower, grab my medication, and get cleaned up.”

“I won’t be gone long,” he promised.

He kissed me goodbye and I retreated to the comfort of my monotonous routine. At least, I still knew how to wash my hair and get dressed. When I emerged from the shower, I wiped steam from the mirror. Yesterday, I was sure I saw myself there staring back at me. Today, she seemed like a stranger. What was happening to me? I picked up the pill bottle, checking the label so I didn’t grab the wrong one. Part of me was tempted to take a sleeping pill anyway and claim it was an accident. I could wake up tomorrow and this would be over, but that wasn’t going to help me or my baby.

Smith was right. We would get through this. A shrill scream punctuated the air and I closed my eyes before I left to do what I could to soothe my daughter, knowing it would never be enough.