Baby Love(17)

"Sweetie," he started, "You are a new mom but I promise you that you are doing everything right. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Trey was just not getting it. He did not realize the depths of my concern and my fear for her. He didn't know just how worried I had become. He was staring at me now. It was that look I had seen before as if he expected me to crumble into a million pieces.

Our reverie was broken by the sound of the baby crying. It was her hungry cry; I recognized it. I felt the 'letdown' in my breasts. My milk was coming in and my breasts were full and begging for release. I couldn't handle nursing her right now. I couldn't deal with the closeness that came with nursing my baby girl. Trey watched as I did nothing after hearing the sound of her cry. He left the room and promptly returned holding Preston, bringing her toward me and holding her for me to take.

I took her from him tentatively. She recognized my touch, my scent, my nearness. She broke out into a smile reaching for me. I held her close and she immediately started nuzzling against me, rooting for my breast. She wanted her fulfillment from me. I wasn't prepared to give it to her right now. I was starting to have fears and apprehension where she was concerned.

Trey was watching me his face not bothering to mask his concern at my impassiveness towards my baby. He had never seen that before. I was suddenly afraid to be close to her; I was too attached. What if she wasn't

here for the long haul?

I pulled her from me, handing her back to Trey.

"There are bottles in the fridge," I said my voice shaking. "Please feed her Trey."

He took the baby from me and immediately she started kicking and fussing in protest. I heard him murmuring softly to her as he took her down the hall towards the kitchen where he would heat up a bottle of my breast-pumped milk and feed her before she went down for the night.

I quickly changed into a nightgown and crawled into the safe comfort of our bed not wanting to think about anything but falling into a deep, dark sleep. My wishes were granted. I didn't want anything to do with my baby for now. It just wasn't safe . . .





CHAPTER 6



I had been sleeping for awhile when I heard Preston fussing once again from her bedroom. I felt Trey get up and leave our bed, returning within a couple of minutes with Preston in his arms. I pretended to sleep, never opening my eyes.

I felt Trey lower himself down onto the bed, and fumble with my nightgown trying to lower the neckline in order to place Preston next to me so that she could nurse. I rolled my body away from them into a tight ball, leaving him and my hungry baby staring at my back.

I heard Trey curse softly under his breath as he left our bed. He returned a few moments later with Preston and a bottle. I could hear him coaxing her to take the bottle as she fussed wanting my breast instead.

Tears stained my cheeks as I did nothing to remedy the situation. Trey was finally able to persuade her to take the nipple of the bottle into her mouth; I heard her finally start sucking away on it hungrily. What kind of a piece of shit mother was I?

I fell back into a restless and troubled sleep. My dreams haunted me; the one I had this night was the worst ever. I dreamed that I was wandering around a cemetery by myself; I was tired, hungry and totally disheveled.

I had no clue as to where I was or how I had gotten there. I tripped over a branch that had fallen from a large oak tree in the cemetery; rain was pounding down around me in torrents.

I tried in vain to get my bearings in this dark, wet cemetery. On the ground crawling in inches after my fall, my hands frantically searched to find something stable. I finally grasped something that felt human, or at least previously human. I scooted up towards what I had been touching with my hands. It was cold and unyielding. My eyes finally adjusted to the dark and I could make out the features. I shrieked in fear and in disgust. It was Jean!

Her features were distorted by decay. Her skin was dark brown and textured like leather. I found the strength to raise myself up and onto my feet. I wanted to run as fast and as far away as possible from what I had just discovered.

I felt the bile rise up in my throat. I stumbled over a flat gravestone and sprawled once again onto the ground of the cemetery; the rain was pelting against my skin from all directions. I blinked my eyes trying to get some focus against the raindrops which were mercilessly assaulting my face. I was now belly-crawling through this unnamed cemetery looking for any exit out of the nightmare.

My hand brushed against another flat headstone that felt smooth to the touch. The raised mound of dirt on this side of it reflected a fresh grave. It was a tiny grave. There was an outline of an angel engraved into the headstone. I stared into the face of the angel then lowered my gaze to see what was encrypted in the marble:



Preston Michaela Sinclair

Beloved Daughter of Tylar & Trey

Rest In Peace Our Little Angel



I felt the scream rise up in my throat. The next thing I heard was it echoing across the cemetery. It was a plaintive wail. The sound of it made my own skin crawl.

My baby was gone . . . my precious angel was gone forever. I had failed to protect her. My screams went on and on. I saw no reason to stop screaming. I wanted to die screaming.

"Tylar!"

Someone was yelling my name. I felt a hand slapping me across my face. It stung like hell. I felt the tears rushing down my cheeks.

A light flickered on overhead. My eyes immediately squeezed shut tightly to shield the light from them. My pulse slowed. I became aware that I was no longer belly-crawling through a cemetery but was in fact in my bed.