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KD Robichaux- Wish he was you (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 2)

Page 15

by Unknown


  She continues, not catching on to how uncomfortable her words are making the both of us, “Okay, so we’re going to help your honey up and get her to the bathroom, and I’m going to teach both of you how to work this miracle foam.”

  “Ummmm…” I look between Erin and Aiden, not quite knowing what to say. I don’t want him in there with me. God only knows what she’s going to show us to do. The less he sees, the better. He’s been helping me to the bathroom, but I’ve been doing everything else myself. When my mom was here, she helped me figure out the squirt bottle they wanted me to use instead of toilet paper, but after I got the hang of sitting on the toilet and turning on the sink to let the water warm up before filling the bottle, I’ve done it all myself each time. Which has been quite a lot, since they still have me on fluids through an IV. They took my catheter out right before my epidural wore off—thank goodness. That was something I did not want to feel.

  “Oh, he got you into this,” she says with a swat of her hand. “In sickness and in health, remember? It’s his job to take care of you after you just gave birth to his baby.”

  There is nothing else she could have said that would’ve made me any less comfortable in this situation. But she doesn’t know any better, so I can’t really hold it against her. Normally, I would agree whole-heartedly with what she said, just not when it’s applied to Aiden and me.

  I switch gears in my head, telling myself I don’t give a shit what he’s about to see in the bathroom. I gave up trying to impress him a long time ago, so I’m not going to worry about grossing him out. I didn’t ask him to come back; it’s his own damn fault.

  “So come around here, Dad, and let’s get her out of bed. She said this is the worst part, so let’s help her strain as little as possible,” Erin instructs.

  Aiden comes to the side of the bed I’ve swung my legs over. He places one of his arms around my lower back, and I wrap one arm around his shoulders, and grasp Erin’s hand with my other, and with a deep breath, I force myself up. It still hurts terribly, but not as much as when I do it alone. Taking small, shuffling steps, the three of us move into the spacious bathroom.

  Erin tells me to slide off what I’ve been calling my diaper, my granny-panties containing two giant maxi pads stuck side-by-side. I’m aware Aiden takes a step back as I pull them down, and even though I don’t care what he thinks, a small part of me hopes he’s not looking.

  I peel off, roll up, and throw away the used pads, and then Erin instructs me to put in fresh ones. Before I pull them up though, she hands me a freshly filled squirt bottle of warm water, and has me clean myself off thoroughly.

  “Okay, now this,” she shows me what looks like a small can of hair mousse, “stuff is the shit. Right before you pull your undies up, squirt this all over the pads, and when you press the pads against you, it should be an instant relief.”

  I do exactly as she says, and when I pull them up, making sure not to waste any as I slide them up my legs, everything goes blessedly numb. I can’t help it. I reach out and grab Erin in a tight hug, thanking her profusely. When I let go of her, she chuckles as she helps me back to bed.

  I don’t know when Aiden had left the bathroom, but he’s now seated next to the bed in the chair that pulls out into a cot. He slept there last night. The only times I’ve let go of Josalyn have been to go to the bathroom and to nap while she was asleep. At those times, I handed her over to him to hold. I had a mix of emotions while seeing her in his arms. Part of me liked seeing it; there was nothing sweeter than seeing a man holding his brand new baby. But at the same time, I had this overwhelming sense of protectiveness, something telling me to not let my guard down. So I kept my momma-bear instinct strong, instead of telling it to chill out.

  Erin helps me get settled in the bed once again, and this time sitting down doesn’t shoot a stabbing pain through my nether regions. I take the pain pills she hands me with the bottle of water and then pull the covers over me as I lower the back end of the bed so I can lie down to sleep. “When you wake up, I’d take a shower if I were you. There’s a seat in there for you to sit on, and the secret is to take one of the towels, fold it into a pad, and soak it with hot water before you sit down on it. Feels absolutely amazing,” she says conspiratorially.

  She pats me on my shoulder and then wishes Aiden and me good sleep before leaving the room. I’m asleep before the door even closes behind her.

  Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog

  May 10, 2007

  Josalyn is a whole ten days old today! So much has happened since the day my lactation consultant-slash-nurse-slash-miracle worker taught me how to breastfeed correctly. And yet again, my mom was right.

  After seeing me in so much pain while nursing the baby, she told me that on the fifth day, like magic, the pain would mysteriously disappear. She said it never failed; for some reason, day five was the exact day everything would just click into place, and breastfeeding would feel like the most natural thing in the world, which it was, and it did.

  I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital until 3:55pm, exactly 48-hours after Josalyn made her big debut. That morning, I had several visitors. Katie and Barbara came to see us, and so did Katrina. Before I could be released, I had to watch this awful and terrifying video on SIDS and Shaken Baby Syndrome, and was given a packet on post-partum depression.

  I dressed my baby girl up in the precious powder pink going-home outfit Mom and Granny had picked out for her, and wrapped her up in the beautiful white baby blanket they’d given me at my baby shower. When I put her in her car seat the first time, she looked ridiculous, so teeny strapped down in the pink Graco carrier. I sat in the backseat with her, not willing to sit up front with her back there by herself.

  When we got home, there was a welcome crew. Uncle Sam, Aunt Janie, Uncle Thurman, and Uncle Dan were all there, along with my dad, and of course Mom and Granny. Aiden carried Josalyn in while Mom took my hand, helped me up the front steps and inside, and then I had him sit her carrier on our giant kitchen counter. She made the most adorable centerpiece as all my relatives gathered around to get their first peek at the newest family member. My mom pulled me to the other side of the kitchen, where a beautiful bouquet of pink roses was displayed, a gift from her, Granny, and Dad.

  The next day, Anni came to see us. I learned that soon after I had Josalyn, she had come to see us in the delivery room, but I have absolutely no memory of it. Being the thoughtful friend she is, she told me she saw how both overwhelmed and out of it I was, so she’d only stayed a few minutes, and waited a day to come to the house so I wouldn’t be too frazzled by so many visitors. That, and she wanted Josalyn and me all to herself, which she knew she wouldn’t get unless she let everyone else go first.

  I also learned my Aunt Janie was one of the first people to see Josalyn too. She just so happened to be at the hospital with her mom and saw Granny and Mom when they first got there.

  Since we knew Aiden was deploying not long after I was to have Josalyn, we didn’t bother finding an apartment to move into with the baby. We decided it would be smarter to wait until he got back again, that way I’d have Mom and Granny close to help me with my newborn. Nine months pregnant, while Aiden sat on the bed playing his video games, I had built her brand new crib with my own two hands, making sure to put the base on the highest setting so it was more like a bassinet.

  I followed all the rules in the wretched video, taking down the cute, colorful crib bumper and removing the stuffed animals to lessen the chances of SIDS. And since her very first visitor, no one has touched her without either thoroughly washing their hands or using hand sanitizer first. Oh yes, I was being one of those moms, a first time mother who wanted her baby to live in a bubble. I cringed when someone would kiss her face, but I also knew how excited everyone was about this little one, ‘the baby’s baby,’ so I just bit my tongue.

  She’s so perfect. I remember a nightmare I’d had a couple months ago that she would be too good, never crying, and I forgot to feed and
change her. She’s very similar to the baby in that dream, but I never forget. Thank goodness for mother’s instincts. That, and my boobs. Good Lord, if I go more than two hours without feeding her, I feel like these Pamela Anderson jugs are going to explode!

  I’m ready for Aiden to deploy. I want to establish a routine. I’m tired of arguing with him. From the beginning, I’ve felt Josalyn is my baby, not his. He didn’t really want a baby, just gave me what I wanted, basically to shut me up and get me off his back. So I’ve had no problem changing every diaper, giving her every bath, getting her to sleep every time, and, of course—since I’m not using bottles—feeding her every meal.

  But when I caught him trying to get her to take a pacifier, after I made it perfectly clear I didn’t want to use one since it can cause nipple confusion, making breastfeeding more difficult, I flipped out. She had started crying while I was taking a quick shower, distracting him from his online poker tournament, and instead of just picking her up and comforting her for a few minutes until I could get myself clean, he found a pacifier someone had given us at the baby shower. I walked in right as he was leaning over the crib, trying to get her to open her mouth with its tip.

  I. Went. Apeshit. I don’t care if he doesn’t contribute to helping out with Josalyn. She’s my responsibility. But purposely doing something I’ve specifically said not to do, just to get her to stop disturbing you, and then having the audacity to say, “I’m her dad. I can make the decision to give her a pacifier if I want,” when you’re not the one who feeds her every single meal, which you could potentially fuck up with that pacifier…you’re just begging me to go Lorena Bobbitt on your ass.

  I only have a couple more days to deal with him until he leaves. After the pacifier incident, I haven’t left him alone with her. Granny and Mom have taken care of her anytime I needed to use the bathroom or shower, and if they weren’t home, I strapped her into her carrier and took her in there with me.

  I am going kinda stir-crazy though. Granny told me a newborn shouldn’t go out into public until they’re two weeks old, when their immunities are much stronger. So I haven’t left the house since I came home from the hospital. It’s the perfect excuse not to go to the hangar when Aiden deploys though. Not that he cares. I think he’s as ready to leave as I am to have him go. He’s already got everything packed up and loaded in his car, except for his beloved video games and laptop, of course. Those he’ll wait until the very last second, since he’ll probably play them up until the moment he walks out the door.

  But that’s just me trying to move on without you

  June 13, 2007

  I signed up for the summer semester of school, deciding I could handle two classes for my first semester back. Josalyn’s little body seems to be set on a timer, getting hungry and needing a diaper change at almost the exact same times every day. She even seems to have a set sleep pattern. She doesn’t sleep through the night, but I’ve gotten into a groove with her.

  She goes to bed around 9 p.m., and sleeps until about two, when she wakes up for a little snack in the middle of the night. She easily goes back into her crib after I nurse her back to sleep. Then she awakens once again around five, and if I try to put her back in her crib that time, she won’t go back to sleep. So I’ve learned if I nurse her in my bed, laying us front to front on our sides as she suckles, she falls asleep again. I unlatch her from my breast, and we’re able to sleep a couple more hours.

  She’s such an easy baby, and so much fun. And Riley, he loves her to death. He’s her little protector. He scooches up next to me while I’m feeding her, and if anyone tries to come near us, his hackles come up and the most godawful growl comes out of his tiny little four-pound body.

  With the routine being so concise, I had a lots of downtime, so instead of being unproductive, I decided to start classes again. I’m taking a psychology and a computer class online. The psychology course is fascinating, and the computer course is easy, so I’m actually ahead on my assignments. I’m able to work at my own pace, and at this rate, I’ll be finished way before the semester is over.

  I have never been happier by myself. Aiden rarely calls, and a lot of the time, when he does, I cut the conversation short, saying I need to change a diaper or feed Josalyn, or on a couple of occasions, I’ve ignored the call. We have absolutely nothing to talk about. He obligingly asks about the baby, but I can tell he’s always anxious to hurry the conversation up so he can get back to playing his games. Brittany told me they’re able to get bootleg games over there for super cheap, so I have no doubt he’s having a blast during his off time.

  I’m not just content right now; I’m actually happy. There’s nothing better than spending the day with my baby girl. My mom, granny, and I spend all hours of the day doting on her. I have no doubt she’s going to be spoiled rotten, but we just can’t help it. She is the sweetest little thing, the perfect baby. And she’s all mine.

  Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog

  July 5, 2007

  My mom, Anni, and I took Josalyn to see the fireworks at Ft. Bragg last night. She jumped after the first one cracked in the sky, but when she caught sight of the bright explosions lighting up the sky, she was mesmerized. I spent so much time watching her reactions and adorable facial expressions that I barely saw any of the fireworks myself.

  Afterward, I put Josalyn to bed at nine, brought my mom the baby monitor, and went out for the first time in forever. Anni and I met my cousins at It’z, where we sat on the patio and listened to live music. I only had a glass of red wine since I’m breastfeeding, but being out with my best friend again felt amazing. It was the first time I felt comfortable leaving Josalyn. The only time I’ve left her has been just long enough to run to the top of the hill in Hope Mills to grab some fast food and bring it back home.

  Just like I thought, I finished my class assignments way early, and was actually able to sign up for a summer-mini. I was worried about taking a class crammed into four weeks, so I only have one, sociology.

  I still haven’t heard anything from Jason since before his birthday in January. I kept thinking he might at least message me congratulating me on Josalyn, but he never did. On his profile, I see he’s dating some chick who is obsessed with astrology. She posts all sorts of star sign crap on his page, and they call each other things like, “my fire” and “my air,” referring to her being an Aries and him being an Aquarius. I’ve always been one who loves gooey romance, but it makes even me vomity. But I’m sure if it were anyone else besides Jason, it wouldn’t make me sick.

  I have absolutely no hope of us ever being together, but for the first time in two years, it’s not a crushing, debilitating pain. Don’t get me wrong; it still hurts, like I’m missing a part of myself, but I now have the ability to force it out of my head when the ache starts to grow too strong. I miss having him to talk to. I’d be happy with our old friendship, just messaging back and forth, but I can’t expect him to take the time to email me when he’s obviously in a happy relationship with some other girl.

  I have someone more important to worry about now, instead of just myself. My focus is all on Josalyn, making sure she will have anything she could possibly ever want. That’s why I’m going to work my ass off and make something of myself. My goal is to not need anyone—not my parents, not Aiden, not a single person but me. I’m going to finish up my degree and write, fulfill the dreams I had before I ever got caught up with stupid boys.

  Mark my words, peeps. I’ll be an author one day. God only knows how long it’ll take me, but I know it’ll happen. Someday.

  I say that I don’t care and walk away, whatever

  August 29, 2007

  Instead of waiting on Aiden to get back from deployment, I’m going ahead with finding a house to rent and moving into it. There’s no need to wait. It’s not like he ever helps the moving process anyway, and this way I won’t have to deal with his input.

  I find the cutest three-bedroom house very close to my parents’, only about five minut
es away. The rent is within our budget, and with my power of attorney, I’m able to get all the rental agreements signed and completed. It’s only a six-month lease, which is perfect since we don’t know if or when Aiden will be picked to either deploy or get based somewhere else.

  I dread the day we get the news we have to move somewhere else. In fact, I’ve seriously thought of telling him I’d just stay here in Fayetteville when he gets his new station. He’ll just get deployed anyway, and I’d be stuck in another state by myself. Fuck that. Actually, in all honesty, I wouldn’t mind being a single mom one bit. But that’s being selfish. Josalyn shouldn’t have to grow up in a broken home.

  I don’t really know what it’ll be like when he gets home, since we have such a set routine. I won’t tolerate him coming in and just trying to take over, changing everything we’ve perfected with our routine. I’d rather it be a roommate situation. You go about your business, and I’ll go about mine. We’ll work as a team when we need it, but other than that, don’t fucking mess with me. I’ll be over here doing my schoolwork, and you go play your adolescent little game, and we’ll all be happy.

  I especially love the house, because it’s three bedrooms. For the short time we lived at my parents’ together right before Josalyn was born and then before he deployed again, it was awkward sleeping in the same bed with him. When he was home before, he always slept on the couch, because he’d stay up all hours playing. And then while he was in the desert, I slept by myself, of course. With the third bedroom, I can make it a clear point that we wouldn’t be sharing a bed at any point anymore.

 

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