Mother's Story

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Matthew stared at his daughter with an expression of pure joy.

  Jessica nodded. She ran her finger over the rounded cheek of this little baby that was hers. She lifted her towards her face and inhaled the scent of her. She smelt wonderful.

  A different nurse came into the room with a bottle of formula. ‘Here we go, Mummy.’ She beamed brightly at Jessica. The novelty of being able to call new mums by their title clearly hadn’t worn off.

  ‘Can you do it, Matt?’ Jessica felt the swell of panic in her chest at the thought of having to feed her. She raised the child in her arms and watched as Matthew swooped and cradled his daughter to his chest. Her head rested neatly under the crook of his chin, where she fitted perfectly.

  ‘Yes, of course. Don’t you feel up to it?’

  Jessica shook her head.

  ‘That’s understandable, Jess. Your body’s had a shock. All in good time, my love.’ He nestled back against the blue vinyl of the chair and fed his daughter, cooing and talking to her as he did so.

  Jessica watched as the little girl’s mouth sucked and gulped on the yellowy milk. She wished Bethan – no Lilly: she’d have to get used to that name – would go back to the nursery, leaving her and Matthew alone. All she wanted was to lie in her husband’s arms and for him to tell her once again that everything was going to be fine.

  Some time later, Jessica was woken by her mother-in-law’s squeal. Margaret Deane came into the room ahead of her husband and smiled at her daughter-in-law as she dived towards the chair in which Matthew sat cradling their newborn. Her arms were outstretched, the navy cardigan balanced across her shoulders spreading like a little cape against her back and her fingers grasping the air as if she were up for a medal on the finishing line.

  ‘Oh my goodness! Oh my, will you look at her! She is adorable.’ This she addressed over her shoulder to her husband, who lumbered through the door with an enormous bunch of yellow roses obscuring his view and throwing him a little off balance.

  ‘Quite hard to see anything at the moment, Margaret, I’ve got my hands full of bloody flowers!’

  Jessica watched as Matthew stood and gently handed Lilly to her grandma.

  ‘Oh my! Oh look at you, my little darling!’ Margaret’s voice was thick with emotion as she hunched her shoulders and splayed her hands as though she were receiving a gift so fragile, the slightest movement or puff of wind might spirit it away. Jessica watched the tears course down Margaret’s cheeks and noted the way she gazed lovingly at her husband, as though the act of holding her granddaughter had transported her back to that delivery room twenty-four years ago. The feel and smell of this newborn powerfully igniting the memory and the moment she became utterly, utterly besotted.

  ‘Well, well! This is quite a moment.’ Anthony Deane placed the huge bouquet of flowers on the side table and stood close to his wife. His hand rested on the small of her back and as he stared at Lilly Rose over his wife’s shoulder, he turned and gently kissed her on the scalp; it was the most tender act Jessica had witnessed between them.

  Anthony coughed and swallowed the emotion that threatened. Finally he turned to his daughter-in-law. ‘Oh, Jess! Congratulations! Well done, my girl.’

  ‘Hello, everyone!’ Roger called from the doorway. He walked in beaming and clutching a pink teddy bear with a ribbon around its neck. Coral tripped in behind him, sporting a large badge that said: ‘I’m a Granny!’

  ‘Hello, darlin’!’ Coral bent forward and kissed her daughter on the cheek. Jessica felt her tears pool. The relief at seeing her parents made her cry.

  ‘Liking the badge, Coral!’ Margaret smiled.

  ‘That’s good, Margaret, because I got you one too.’ Roger pulled a second badge from his pocket and handed it to Anthony, who flipped it back and forth to make the pearlescent background change colour.

  ‘Did I get one?’ Anthony joked.

  ‘No, mate, we’ve got these.’

  Jessica watched as her dad pulled three tubed cigars from his shirt pocket and gave one to Anthony and one to Matthew. The men laughed, unified in their delight and excitement at the new arrival.

  Margaret walked over and popped the tiny bundle into Coral’s arms, who placed her lips against her granddaughter’s head and closed her eyes. ‘Hello, little one. Hello, Lilly. I’m your nan.’

  Roger sat on the side of the bed and peered at the little girl’s face. ‘Oh, Jess, she’s a proper stunner, just like her mum.’ He leant over and kissed his daughter on the cheek. ‘Had a rough old time, I hear.’ He smiled as he stroked her hand.

  Jessica nodded. ‘A bit.’

  ‘But all worth it, eh, Jess? And now your adventure really begins.’

  She nodded. Again. Ignoring the quake in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘My baby girl has a baby girl! How unbelievable is that?’ He grinned.

  ‘It is unbelievable,’ she managed.

  ‘Granny Maxwell would have eaten her up, that’s for sure!’ Roger smiled. ‘She loved babies and she adored you. She’s probably watching over you right now.’ He patted her hand. ‘And Danny. I bet he’s pleased as punch for his little sister.’ He swallowed.

  Jessica nodded, meekly.

  ‘Polly been in yet?’ Coral asked casually, while repeatedly mouthing ‘Hello’ at Lilly Rose.

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Do not leave her alone with this baby for a second. Before you could say jackrabbit, she’d have her ears pierced and a matching cherub tattoo on her little bottom.’ She smiled knowingly at her daughter.

  Matthew chuckled. ‘Oh, don’t! I’d kill her.’ His voice caught in his throat. ‘Anyone hurts so much as a single hair on Lilly’s head and I’ll kill them!’

  Jessica was struck by the passion in his tone.

  Roger laughed loudly. ‘Now you know how it feels, Matthew. And believe me, that feeling only intensifies. Wait until she comes home from school and tells you Taylor was mean to her or, God forbid, she comes home with a rock on her finger and tells you she’s in love with a bloody lawyer who supports QPR!’

  ‘A lawyer who has given you Lilly,’ Coral reminded him, nodding sagely.

  Roger smiled. ‘Ah, yes, and for that reason, Matthew, I will forgive you anything.’ He winked at his son-in-law, whose cheeks flushed.

  Emotions were running high and bouncing off the walls. Jessica watched those she loved engaged in the all-absorbing act of Lilly worship. She, however, felt more like an observer than a participant, a bit like the only sober person at a party, the only one who doesn’t get the joke. She kept telling herself to smile. Come on, smile! This was supposed to be a happy day. She wanted everyone to leave so she could go back to sleep, but at the same time felt petrified of being left alone with her. Her. Her. Lilly, she meant Lilly. She didn’t know who Lilly was. She had the overriding thought that she wasn’t sure if she was hers – was she Lilly’s mum? She hadn’t seen her born, so how could she be sure? She knew it sounded ridiculous.

  ‘Can you imagine not having her?’ Margaret beamed, interrupting her thoughts. ‘It’s the weirdest thing, isn’t it, Jessica? Even when they are absolutely brand new, like Lilly, you simply can’t imagine not having them in your life. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? That instant love? Do you remember that, Coral?’

  ‘I do indeed,’ Coral murmured, unable to take her eyes from the baby in her arms.

  Jessica stared at her mother, who looked star-struck, in love, besotted. Her words floated into her mind: ‘One look at that little face and you will do like the rest of us and fall in love. It’s as if there is this balloon of love that fills you up so completely, there is no room for anything else.’

  She couldn’t stop the tears that spurted suddenly and without warning. She felt detached, disconnected from everyone and everything. She hurt, with every muscle aching in a different way, but it was more than physical discomfort that prompted her tears.

  Coral noticed Jessica’s stricken face against the pillow. She hand
ed Lilly to Margaret. ‘Poor love, you look so tired. It will all feel better after a good long sleep, I promise.’ Coral’s eyes crinkled in a smile and Jessica felt reassured by her mum’s words. She didn’t make promises lightly. Her dad nodded in agreement. Jessica wanted to believe that they knew best, but the trouble was she didn’t just feel tired. She felt petrified. Panic clutched at her chest. What she wanted to say was, ‘Take me home, Dad, please just pick me up and take me home. Carry me from the car and put me in my bed, set a glass of water on my bedside table and switch on my night light, tuck me in and leave the door ajar so you can hear me if I call… I don’t know what’s happened to me, Dad. I went to sleep and woke up and Lilly is here. I was expecting Bethan and I got Lilly. And Matthew has hardly looked at me because he can’t tear his eyes from her and I look at her and feel… less than I think I should. All I want to do is go to sleep.’ But of course she didn’t. Instead, she dried her tears on the tissue he offered and concentrated on keeping her smile in place.

  7th April, 2014

  You have to act sometimes, don’t you? Hide your true thoughts or feelings. Make out one thing when you believe another. I do this in here all the time. I have to. I’ve a lot of time to think and I have met a lot of damaged people. I have learnt that you can’t always tell good from bad, or right from wrong just by looking. And you can’t always tell what someone believes from what they are saying. My doctor asked me to consider this and I do. I don’t want to talk to anyone and I don’t want to make friends. I get through this by being quiet and making myself invisible.

  My therapist came into my room today and saw me sketching. I wasn’t really thinking, just doodling, drawing swooping swirls that might have been clouds and shaded pools that looked a bit like puddles. Above one of the puddles I drew a face with spiky hair and tears pouring from the eyes and mouth that fell down into the puddle. I saw her eyes narrow, trying to decipher my random strokes. She had smiled, widely like I’d given a right answer. ‘This is marvellous, Jess, really good that you express yourself, explore your thoughts through your art, is this something you are happy to do more of?’ I nodded, mainly because I didn’t want to disappoint her. She seemed so chuffed to see my random scrawl, funny really.

  Thirteen

  With her eyes closed and her pouchy tummy resting on her thighs as she hunched forward, Jessica sat on the closed loo seat in their bathroom and breathed very, very deeply. It was nearly two weeks since she had given birth and there was no sign of being able to zip up her skinny jeans, even if she had felt like changing out of her pyjama bottoms. Her scar had healed nicely into a pencil-thin red line that sat below her bikini line and the general soreness of her Caesarean had vanished. She could now stand upright without wincing. In truth, her body had bounced back well.

  Opening her eyes, she stared at her reflection in the vast wall mirror and cringed at her appearance. Her hair needed a wash and she couldn’t remember where her make-up bag was, much less when she had last delved into it. She ran her fingers through her fringe and bit her lips to give them a little colour. Not that it mattered how she looked, not really.

  Lilly was crying. She had been crying for a minute and that was why Jessica was hiding in the toilet. She could hear Matthew pottering in the kitchen and knew that once he heard the baby monitor spring into life with its wailing siren, he would come running.

  As if on cue, Jessica heard the heavy tread of her husband’s footsteps as he bounded up the stairs, calling ahead, ‘It’s okay, Lilly, Daddy’s coming. Don’t cry, baby girl, I’m on my way!’, followed by, ‘Jess? Jess?’ Whether intentional or not, she heard an accusatory tone in his call, and in her mind she fleshed out the subtext: ‘Where are you? Why aren’t you going to Lilly? She is crying and you are her mother and you should be running to her the moment she needs you…’

  ‘Sorry, Matt! I’m in the loo. A bit stuck. Have you got her?’ she called through the closed door, smiling to add an authentic happiness to her voice.

  ‘Oh right, no matter. Yep, I’ve got her!’

  Jessica ground her teeth and listened to the sweet burble of banter that Matthew uttered every time he was with his little girl.

  ‘Youarethemostgorgeousbabyinthewholewideworld! Yes you are! Yes you are!’ Followed by the smack of his lips as he kissed Lilly’s face. ‘I could eat you up, Lilly! Yes I could! I could eat you in a sandwich!’ And then more kissing.

  Jessica felt her jaw tense and her fingers flex. Her jealousy flared from the smallest kindling and was immediately followed by a shot of guilt that fired through her veins and ricocheted around her stomach. How can you be jealous? She is your baby, your little girl.

  ‘You okay in there, Mummy?’ Matthew tapped gently on the bathroom door. She could hear Lilly hiccupping with relief and joy at being in her daddy’s arms. ‘We are going downstairs to make lunch and we’ll see you down there!’

  Jessica wasn’t sure which she disliked most, his jovial tone or the way he called her Mummy and spoke on behalf of him and Lilly. She longed to have a conversation with just her husband. The way they used to.

  Standing, Jessica stared at her reflection as she flushed the loo, reinforcing the charade. She ran her hand over her breasts, feeling nothing but relief that she had not been able to breastfeed her daughter. The midwife had clucked her tongue in sympathy and patted her arm as though offering an apology. ‘Sometimes these things just happen,’ she’d said. It didn’t bother Jessica. With no milk production, there was no choice but to let Lilly continue on formula, the added advantage being that Matthew could take responsibility for the majority of her feeds, which he did very willingly, of course.

  Come on, you can do this, Jess! Get your shit together and think positive. She tried to rally her reflection. It’s all going to be fine. It’s all going to be just fine. So you’re not like your own mum, with that instant love thing, that’s okay. Everybody’s different. For you, things might just take a little bit longer. After taking one more deep breath, she crept down the stairs and made her way into the kitchen.

  ‘We were just wondering whether you’d got stuck in that loo! Weren’t we, Lilly? We were going to call the fire brigade.’ Matthew addressed Lilly, who was lying in her Moses basket on its stand in the corner of the room, under the dresser.

  ‘What’s for lunch?’ Jessica smiled, ignoring his comments.

  ‘Oh, I thought the usual sixty-five mils of formula! Followed by a jolly good burp.’ He waggled the bottle in her direction.

  ‘I meant for us, idiot.’ She sighed.

  ‘Tell you what, you feed Lilly and I’ll rustle up some cheese on toast. Sound good?’

  Jessica nodded. ‘Sounds great.’ She hadn’t had much of an appetite since having Lilly, but a quick bite of cheese on toast would be just the trick.

  As Matthew handed her the bottle, Jessica felt the familiar squeeze on her intestines and an increase in heart rate as something close to panic spread from her core. The bottle sat awkwardly in her palm, slipping against her skin in a way that it didn’t seem to for anyone else. Even her dad had looked like a pro as he jostled Lilly in one arm and with her feed in his other hand wandered around the kitchen, chatting to her idly as though he had been doing this forever. Jessica was only comfortable feeding her daughter in a certain position in a particular chair and preferably with no one around to watch. She crept over to the Moses basket and smiled down at her daughter, who kicked her legs up and grabbed at thin air, going cross-eyed with the effort of staring at nothing,

  ‘Hello, Lilly. It’s me, it’s your mum.’ She nodded.

  ‘Of course she knows it’s you! She loves you.’ Matthew laughed as he reached for the block of Cheddar sitting alone in the depths of the fridge.

  Jessica stared at him nervously. She knew he was trying his best, but even though his comment was meant to reassure her, it had the opposite effect, making her feel like she was saying the wrong thing. Why was this so hard? How could she begin to describe the embarrassment she felt a
t having to converse with a baby, her baby!

  Reaching into the basket with one arm, she tried to scoop Lilly up with one hand under her little shoulders; realising she needed more leverage, she let her roll back down onto the soft mattress. Lilly, clearly unsettled by this lack of deftness, started to cry. Jessica saw Matthew’s fingers twitch, desperate to take over, wanting to pick up his daughter with ease and juggle her mid air from one arm to the other as if to prove how easy it was.

  Placing the bottle on the floor, Jessica tried for the second time. Using both hands this time, she lifted her little girl and placed her clumsily in the crook of her right arm. She then bent down awkwardly to pick up the bottle that sat by her feet. This wasn’t so easy with the sting of her surgery flaring at any unusual movement. As she crouched, Matthew almost shouted, ‘You have to support her head, Jess!’ Unnerved and wide-eyed, she straightened and stared at the bottle, trying to figure the best way of picking it up without dipping too low or letting Lilly’s head fall forward.

  ‘C… can, can you bring her bottle through?’ she almost whispered as she carefully made her way into the sitting room, walking as though trying to avoid broken glass, conscious of every step.

  Matthew nodded silently and shoved the cheese back onto the counter top. Lunch could wait.

  Jessica turned around and backed into the comfy chair upholstered in taupe linen that sat in the bay window of their Victorian home. With her left hand she pulled the cushion from behind her back and placed it in the gap below the arm of the chair; on this feather-filled pillow she rested Lilly’s head. She exhaled, realising that she had been holding her breath.