The Dark Side

by Danielle Steel

  “I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Austin said calmly. “And my mother and sisters-in-law can help with advice.” Austin was eager to leave the hospital, take the baby home, and begin their life as parents of a beautiful baby girl.

  “Good luck,” the doctor said warmly, after he signed the release form. Their own pediatrician had been in to check Jaime early that morning and she had stopped in to see Zoe. They were going to her office in five days. Zoe had already met her and interviewed her at length, when she was six months pregnant. Cathy Clark was a competent, well-recommended pediatrician, and Zoe liked the mix of serious, warm, modern, relaxed, but thorough medicine that she espoused. She was three years older than Zoe, had gone to medical school at Duke too, and was intrigued to hear that Zoe had completed two years of medical school, along with her master’s degree. She was very impressed with them as prospective parents, and also by the intelligent, meticulous questions Zoe had asked before and after the birth.

  Zoe had shared with Dr. Clark some of the theories and methods she planned to use with Jaime, and also the fact that she was going to care for Jaime herself for four months until she went back to work. She didn’t want to miss a moment with her, and Cathy Clark could sense a super-mom in the making and was in favor of it. She enjoyed working with moms who were responsible, informed, and intelligent, and Zoe was all of those.

  Cathy Clark wasn’t married and had no children of her own, but was a very dedicated physician, who loved children. She liked Zoe’s energy, thirst to learn, and enthusiasm.

  “She’s a very lucky little girl, and you’re going to be great parents,” she said confidently before she left Zoe’s hospital room to visit another patient, who had given birth to twins. Zoe had liked Cathy immediately when she’d met her, and appreciated the fact that she hadn’t dismissed any of Zoe’s theories, which she had yet to put into practice. Dr. Clark’s only warning was not to go overboard about the demand feedings, and to be sure to give herself time between feeds to produce enough milk, or they’d have a hungry baby on their hands. So far it all sounded simple to Zoe and Austin, and more than manageable, although he looked a little daunted by all the equipment Zoe said they needed for the baby. The ultra-sophisticated car seat Zoe had bought was tricky, and Austin struggled with it when he had to figure it out for the first time leaving the hospital. Zoe put Jaime into it, and she woke up looking startled and started to cry.

  “I’m afraid to pinch something like one of her tiny fingers,” he said, looking anxious, as he did up all the buckles and straps. Because she was so young, she had to face backward in case they got into an accident. Zoe looked calm as she got into the front seat, and the baby went back to sleep. It was a short distance from NYU hospital to their apartment, and ten minutes later, they were home, to the apartment they had longed to bring their baby to. Now it felt like a proving ground for all her theories and how adequate they would be as parents. Zoe became instantly tense from the moment they arrived.

  Zoe carried the baby, wrapped in a blanket, while Austin managed the car seat, two suitcases, and an enormous pink teddy bear Zoe’s father had had delivered by the hospital gift shop. He and Pam were planning to come to see the baby soon.

  While Zoe was pregnant, they had moved into a duplex apartment with a second bedroom, in the same building. Zoe looked proud and confident again as they put Jaime in a Moses basket with pink ribbons on a rolling stand when they got upstairs, and she carried it up a short flight of stairs to their bedroom, placed it next to the bed, and lay down. She was more tired than she’d expected to be, but it was less than twenty-four hours since she’d given birth. She was having hot flashes which the nurses had told her were from the change of hormones, and her milk hadn’t come in yet. She was staring at the beautiful baby in the basket, as Jaime screwed up her face and let out a howl. Zoe started to look nervous then, uncertain about what had made Jaime cry.

  Austin came into the room, helped Zoe change the baby, which turned into a two-person operation, and then watched in wonder as Zoe unbuttoned her blouse and put the baby to her breast, as she had done in the hospital. She made it look so natural and simple, and then winced as the infant latched on. They had warned her it might hurt at first, but each time the pain was sharper than she expected, and Jaime sucked hard. She was only getting colostrum, the substance Zoe provided for the first day or two, until the milk came in. She smiled as she looked down at her after a few minutes. Jaime was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. She only drank for a moment and then fell asleep, and Zoe left her at her breast, while Austin went to make them lunch. He came back in a few minutes with sandwiches, and Jaime woke up and tried to nurse again. She clearly wanted more than Zoe had to give, which made Zoe anxious and look worried, as Austin tried to reassure her. Zoe was less confident now that they were home on their own, without the nurses she’d been able to call on at the hospital.

  Jaime spent the entire day nursing, which was the theory Zoe had adopted and seemed the right one to her, but by the end of the afternoon, her nipples were raw and red, and the baby was crying constantly, which sounded like cries of anguish to Zoe, just as the pediatrician at the hospital had warned. It was too soon for her to get any milk, and Zoe’s breasts were already sore. She went to take a shower while Austin held Jaime, and the baby cried the whole time Zoe was in the shower. Austin was looking frazzled when she came back to bed.

  “I think she’s hungry, Zoe,” he said, looking worried. “Are you sure she’s getting enough of the other stuff to hold her over till your milk comes in?” He felt helpless and inept.

  “No, she’s not, my milk isn’t in yet, this is just the practice round,” and her nipples were already burning and cracked. The baby finally went back to sleep, and Zoe’s milk came in with a rush two hours later and poured all over the bed. Her breasts were pounding, and she picked up the baby and woke her to nurse, which made Jaime howl until she settled at the breast, and then choked at how fast the milk was coming, and couldn’t drink fast enough or seem to get the hang of it. All three of them were novices, and Zoe and Austin were both looking stressed as he tried to suggest how to do it, and Zoe snapped at him that she knew the correct position of the breast, she’d read all the books on breast-feeding, but she couldn’t seem to make it work. The baby was getting drenched, and Zoe’s nightgown was soaking wet. The books hadn’t mentioned that.

  “My mother said it’s easiest to nurse,” he said, looking frustrated, as the baby cried and Zoe looked as though she might too.

  “Your mother had her last baby forty-two years ago,” Zoe snapped at him. “Maybe she doesn’t remember this part. I’ve got the name of a lactation specialist if we need one,” Zoe said, trying to settle the baby against her wet nightgown, and guide her pouring breast into Jaime’s mouth, as she choked again.

  “What’s a lactation specialist?” Austin looked confused.

  “They teach you how to nurse,” Zoe said, visibly unnerved. This was not going as she’d planned. At least not yet. She had thought the baby would know what to do instinctively, but she didn’t. She was as inexperienced as her parents.

  “Can’t you figure it out for yourself? Women have been doing this for thousands of years. It can’t be that complicated,” Austin said casually, as Zoe bristled.

  “Why don’t you try it, then?” she said, annoyed. Nursing was proving to be stressful and harder than she thought, and one of her breasts was bleeding.

  “I’d love to, but I don’t have what she wants. Do you want a glass of wine?” he offered innocently, and Zoe looked shocked.

  “Of course not. I’m not going to drink while I’m nursing.” She had been diligent about not doing so while she was pregnant, and was terrified of fetal alcohol syndrome, but there was no risk of that now, so it seemed harmless to him. Zoe treated him like a criminal at the suggestion.

  “Maybe she’ll sleep better between feedings if you drink
some wine.” He was half serious and she could see it. She changed the baby then, took off her own wet nightgown, put on a fresh one, and a few minutes later, the baby was crying again. Zoe put her to the breast. Jaime started to choke on the fast flow of milk and then figured out how to do it, and fell asleep two minutes later, before she’d had a full feeding, which was supposed to last forty minutes, twenty on each side. No one had explained the timing issue to Jaime, who kept falling asleep after two minutes at the breast, so every time she woke up she was starving and then passed out again at the first breast and never got to the second one, which felt to Zoe like it was going to explode.

  “They ought to come with an owner’s manual,” Austin said, joking, trying to lighten the moment. The nursing had been difficult since they got home, and the baby was fussy, hungry, frustrated, and tired, and so were they. Zoe hated feeling so incompetent, and Austin had never seen her that way. Normally she controlled every situation. Her ineptitude at nursing made her seem so vulnerable, which touched him. He drank the wine that Zoe had refused, just as she started to cry.

  “What kind of mother am I? I can’t even figure out how to nurse. I’m calling the lactation specialist tomorrow.” She looked like a little girl and he leaned over and kissed her. Their first hours at home had been anxiety inducing and confusing, which neither of them had expected. They were both people who usually did everything right on the first try.

  “Why don’t you just relax. The baby doesn’t know how to do it either. We all need to get used to each other. You’ll figure it out eventually. It can’t be that complicated, Zoe. Just take it easy. Why don’t we watch TV for a while?” The baby howled as he said it, and continued to cry for the next ten minutes, until Zoe put the breast in her mouth, which quieted the baby, and then Zoe let out a scream.

  “She really hurts.” There were tears in her eyes from the pain.

  “She’s been chomping on you all day. If I did that, you’d kill me,” he teased her and turned on the TV, which added more noise and chaos to the scene, as the baby continued crying, and Zoe joined her. She picked up her cellphone and called the lactation expert a few minutes later, and left a message to call first thing the next morning. She said that she had a serious problem with a one-day-old baby who wasn’t nursing. She made it sound urgent and alarming.

  By ten o’clock that night, Austin and Zoe were exhausted, the baby was asleep in the Moses basket and had been on the breast for most of the day and evening, and Zoe’s breasts were so tender she cried every time the baby latched on to nurse. When Austin’s mother called and he told her about it, she reassured him that the baby would settle in during the next few weeks, and Zoe would get used to nursing. Austin hoped so. The first day had not been the peaceful idyllic scene he’d imagined, and Zoe either cried or snapped at him every time he spoke to her. This was not the calm, confident woman he knew. He could see that she was genuinely in pain every time she tried to feed the baby, who acted like she was starving, but either choked and wouldn’t nurse or fell asleep before she had a full feed. It was beginning to seem like a heroically difficult project, and not the simple, natural process it was supposed to be.

  The baby slept for about an hour, and Austin and Zoe dozed off until the baby started crying again and woke them both. Zoe tried all the techniques she’d read about so diligently, but the baby was too frantic to cooperate and just screamed. The piercing sound of her baby crying cut through Zoe like a knife, and she looked at Austin in despair.

  “I could pump, and we could give her breast milk in a bottle,” she said, remembering the suggestion from a book.

  “That sounds convoluted to me.” It would be so much simpler if the baby would just nurse.

  Zoe handed the baby to him then, still screaming, went to get a large cumbersome box out of her closet, and pulled out a machine that resembled something from Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory. It looked torturous to him.

  “What’s that?”

  “A breast pump,” she said, reading the instructions carefully. “I got it for when I go back to work. I can freeze the milk and leave it at home. And I bought a smaller pump to take to work.”

  “Won’t that thing hurt more than she does?” He looked worried. He had seen how red and raw her nipples were when she changed her nightgown. “Why don’t you try nursing her again?” he suggested gently over the baby’s desperate screams. They had to find a way to feed her, whatever it took, and he didn’t want to seem critical of Zoe. He had no idea what to do either, and was silently wishing they’d hired a baby nurse to teach them, at least for the first few weeks. He had no idea why Zoe was so opposed to it. For their first baby, they clearly needed help. They were intelligent, highly educated, sensible people, but this was all new to them. The baby hadn’t had a decent feeding since they got home from the hospital that morning, and he and Zoe looked beaten up. He was exhausted, and was hoping they’d get some sleep that night. It was beginning to seem unlikely that they’d sleep at all.

  Zoe tried again then, and this time Jaime took the breast more peacefully, and managed ten whole minutes on one side before she fell asleep. Zoe stroked her cheek to try to wake her for the other side, but Jaime was already in a deep sleep, and no longer hungry, which left Zoe with one breast drained and the other feeling like it was going to burst, as the milk poured onto the sheets again, and she was lying in a pool of milk.

  Bottle feeding was beginning to sound like a great idea to Austin, but he wouldn’t have dared say it to Zoe, even in jest, not to mention the aggressive-looking machine that was still sitting on the floor next to the bed. Zoe had already figured out that she was going to be in pain until Jaime nursed from the other breast, but she showed no sign of waking up. In one day, the baby had turned their life upside down. When he said it, Zoe burst into tears and took it as criticism of her.

  She put the baby back in the Moses basket, and they managed to doze off for half an hour, Zoe with her breast throbbing, and half an hour later Jaime woke up, hungry again, since she had taken less than half a feed before. Zoe picked her up, and put her at the full breast, with tears running down her cheeks as Jaime latched on fiercely. It hurt like hell, but less than an overfull breast that needed the baby to nurse.

  Zoe changed Jaime’s diaper after she finished nursing, swaddled her tightly in a little pink blanket, as they had shown her in the hospital, and put the baby back in the basket. She and Austin managed to sleep for an entire hour, before the baby woke up again. She was alternating breasts now, and couldn’t stay awake long enough to nurse from both, so Zoe constantly had one breast or the other throbbing, and she was getting less than an hour to rest and produce milk between feeds. She seemed to be producing too much, more than the baby wanted. Her mother had told her that her milk supply would adjust to the baby’s needs, but that would take several weeks. Zoe couldn’t imagine going through this until then. Childbirth had been easy compared to nursing, but she was worn out by both.

  By morning, both parents looked like they’d been shipwrecked, and Jaime had cried for most of the night. Zoe called their pediatrician and told her what was happening. She told Zoe that they needed to get more time between feeds, even if Austin had to take the baby in another room to hold her and distract her, or rock her to sleep, and keep her away from Zoe. It sounded easier than it was, dealing with a howling infant. She assured Zoe that it would settle down as the baby adjusted, and when the lactation specialist came at noon, she told her the same things. She told Zoe not to use the pump, or she would produce even more milk, for the moment she had more than the baby wanted, and they had to get in sync. The whole process seemed exhausting and overwhelming, and the second night was harder than the first. Zoe had never felt so inept in her life. She was failing the most basic element of motherhood, Nursing 101.

  By the time they went to Cathy Clark’s office for their scheduled visit when Jaime was five days old, Zoe had been in tears for
several days, she and Austin were snapping at each other, which they normally never did. Their relationship had been smooth and easy until then. But neither of them had had a decent night’s sleep all week. Zoe told the doctor that Jaime had colic. She had read about it, and she showed all the signs. She was worried that Jaime might have a stomach obstruction of some kind which kept her from nursing, and she said that she had had projectile vomiting that morning. Dr. Clark gave Zoe a pamphlet with helpful hints about nursing, calmly reassured them both, and said there was no indication or symptom of an obstruction. Babies vomit, she told them, and real projectile vomiting could go six or eight feet, which wasn’t the case here. She wasn’t colicky, they didn’t have the nursing in sync with the baby’s needs yet, and they needed to be patient, and try to relax. She suggested that they hire a night nurse, to help get them on a schedule, and some kind of routine. She said an experienced nurse could have them on the right path in a week or two, and they could get some sleep, all of which would relieve the stress for them. She could see how tense they were, and the baby could feel it too.

  “I’m not putting my five-day-old baby on a schedule. That’s abusive,” Zoe said with a look of steely determination in response to the doctor’s suggestion. Austin had never seen Zoe as obsessive about anything as she was about the nursing. “And I don’t want anyone handling her except the two of us. We need to bond with her. We don’t want a nurse.” She spoke for Austin too, although he wanted one desperately. He wanted his wife back, not the stressed anxious wreck she was becoming ever since the baby was born. The gentle woman he loved had turned into a shrew.

  “You already are on a schedule, just not a good one,” Dr. Clark said smoothly, “and I can give you a list of reliable nurses if you want to try one. We’ve used them all before. It might put some semblance of order back into your life,” she offered helpfully. Austin looked pleadingly at Zoe, and she shook her head.