The Perfect Child(58)

They wheeled us from the delivery room into our hospital room. My head throbbed with exhaustion. All I wanted to do was sleep with my baby cuddled on my chest. We had just gotten settled in our room when he started crying. I’d heard plenty of babies cry, but I’d never heard a baby scream like someone was pulling their limbs off. I tried to nurse him, but it only made him angrier. I tried everything to calm him down—jiggled him, walked him, sang to him, and talked to him—but nothing worked. He screamed for the next eight hours. Christopher and I took turns trying to calm him down.

I was supposed to be resting when it wasn’t my turn, but it was impossible in a crammed hospital room. I couldn’t relax a single muscle. My body was tensed and hyperalert as he screamed. I was driven to do something, and my body physically hurt from not being able to stop his pain.

As the sun came up, the three of us piled on my hospital bed with the side rail raised on each side. I was on one side of the bed while Christopher was on the other. We took turns holding the baby. We slept for a few hours, but things got busy in the morning.

We settled on the name Cole. Christopher’s grandmother was named Nicole, and we’d already decided to name the baby after her regardless of the gender. Our room bustled with hospital activity, and even though Cole finally slept on and off throughout the day, we were awake as our visitors showed up to congratulate us. Allison called, and we asked to talk to Janie, but she wouldn’t speak, not even to Christopher.

“She’s had a difficult night,” Allison said.

I didn’t have the energy to even ask about it.





THIRTY-FIVE

CHRISTOPHER BAUER

Hannah and I were wrecked by the time we got home from the hospital. We’d barely slept for three days. Janie had refused to come visit the baby and was bouncing with manic energy since she hadn’t seen us for so long. I helped Hannah over to the couch and got her settled with Cole. She was still in a lot of pain from where she’d torn during delivery and from getting stitches afterward.

“Come meet your baby brother, Cole,” I said, motioning for Janie to join us.

She stood in front of the fireplace, shaking her head.

I tried again. “He wants to meet you. He’s so happy to have a big sister. Look how cute he is.”

She glared at me before moving to hide behind Allison’s legs.

“It’s okay, Janie,” Hannah said. She looked exhausted. “You don’t have to meet your brother right now if you don’t want to. You have plenty of time to get to know him.”

Janie asked to be picked up, and she clung to me. She stuck her thumb in her mouth, something she’d never done before.

“He’s so precious. Look at those tiny fingers.” Allison nuzzled Cole’s face with her cheek. “Is he still crying a lot?”

Hannah nodded. “It’s not as bad during the day, but he screams all night long. I think he’s got his days and nights mixed up.”

“It usually only takes a few days or so for them to adjust.”

“Thank God,” Hannah said, looking relieved. “It’s pretty brutal. It wouldn’t be so bad if he were just awake, but he screams like he’s in pain. It’s like something is hurting him, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Allison hugged her from the side. “He’s probably colicky. Mom said I was. Maybe it’s a firstborn baby thing. Or he could be hungry because he’s not getting enough milk. Has your milk come in yet?”

Hannah shook her head. “I wish it’d hurry up. He’s probably starving to death.”

I sat down with Janie on the couch next to Hannah and Allison, hoping her curiosity would get the best of her and she’d be forced to look, but she buried her face in my shoulder.

“Why don’t you take Janie to the park, and I’ll sit with the baby so Hannah can take a nap?” Allison suggested.

The last thing I wanted to do was walk to the park. I wanted to nap with Hannah, but being a parent meant you put your children’s needs above your own. Parenting hadn’t wasted any time making its demands.

“Go find your shoes, Janie,” I said, putting mine back on.





THIRTY-SIX

HANNAH BAUER

Christopher and I arrived at our pediatrician’s office for Cole’s five-day appointment with a list of questions. Cole hadn’t stopped wailing, and we hadn’t slept for more than a two-hour period in over a week.

Dr. Garcia checked him over. He was gaining weight and responded to all of the doctor’s touches, pokes, and prods just like he should.

“He looks good. Do you have any questions?” he asked.

We pulled out our list, but I jumped to number one immediately. “He cries whenever he gets tired, and he really gets worked up at night,” I blurted out before Christopher had a chance to speak.

Dr. Garcia nodded. “Yes, all babies cry when they’re sleepy.”

“Yeah, but he cries for hours before he goes to sleep. Hours,” I said.

“Oh, he might be a colicky baby,” he responded nonchalantly, not the least bit disturbed. “It will pass in three to four months.”

I wanted to break down and sob in my chair. He might as well have told me it was going to last three to four years, because a minute of Cole’s screaming felt like hours.