âThe very damaging, frightening part of postpartum is the lack of perspective and the lack of priority and understanding what is really important.â
-Brooke Shields
Kayla sighed as she turned the alarm off on her phone. Noah was going to be home soon and undoubtedly would want some kind of food. She hadnât made dinner in about two weeks and the last meal she made she had no doubt it was probably hot dogs and mac & cheese. With everything going on with the baby she just didnât feel like making dinner. London for the most part was laid up because of his knee and wasnât much help. He tried his hardest though but she felt all alone in this. He gets away from the incessant crying and boo hooing that happens in their house or it just doesnât bother him as much. If Noah doesnât get his way he used to boo hoo but ever since the baby came he just learned how to be on his own. Kayla loved that, now if she could just get the baby to hop up and change herself or make a bottle for herself then she was golden. But of course that is not the way life goes. The baby needed attention and Kayla just couldnât do it anymore. She didnât know what was going on just that she didnât feel the need to be there for her kids. The baby could acquire the âentertain yourselfâ aspect just like Noah did. She just needed to ignore a couple of cries and then it would go away. At least thatâs what she hoped. At least London wasnât deployed and no matter how happy she was for him to be home, things with them were justâŠ..different.
      Maybe he just didnât want to be with her. Hell heâs seen two kids come out of her vag who the hell would want to go in there after witnessing that. Not that she wanted anything like that going on, hell she even sleeps in a different room just so she doesnât feel pressured in to having sex. What was she thinking? Having another kid, she almost died with Noah, and while things went perfectly fine with Aaron, she still doesnât know if she even wanted another kid. Why would she have Emma? She had to have her girl and now she canât stand her. She would never say that out loud but yeah. She canât stand her own child. She feels so guilty every time she walks in to the room and the baby is crying. Half the time she just wants to turn around and go back to sleep, other onesâŠ..well she donât know what she could do. She knew it was wrong to feel like this but she figured it will dissipate. She will grow to love this child just like she loves the other ones she just needs time. Time away from the kids, house, just all of it.
      She thought about leaving one day. Last week, London went off to work and she went as far as to pack a bag. She went in the babyâs room to kiss it good bye but she was sleeping. There is something about a baby sleeping. You donât move, you donât speak, and if notice you stop breathing. You do everything you have to do to make sure that peaceful face stay that way. There was something in her face and she couldnât leave. She put her stuff back in the room and cried herself back to sleep. She was stuck, she wanted to leave so bad but just couldnât. Not out of obligation but because she just couldnât. London didnât know about that day, still doesnât. She just doesnât want him to worry about something she knows she can deal with. She has her wall up and she is trying to get out of her funk. Thatâs all it is, sheâs just tired and needs more sleep sheâll be back to herself in no time at all.
She was in the middle of cleaning Aaronâs room when she heard the front door open. She ran down the stairs to tell Noah not to slam the door but she was too late. He slammed the door and the baby began screaming at the top of its lungs. Her smile faded and she narrowed her eyes at Noah he murmured a soft sorry, and ran off to his room where he will undoubtedly spend the rest of the afternoon; not even bothering to ask if she needed any help. She went in to the babyâs room and sighed as she scooped her up and walked in to the kitchen to begin cooking dinner. She put the baby in the high chair with some little snacks and began to work. About 15 minutes later the baby started screaming again. She picked her up, checked her diaper, tried to give her a bottle, tried singing, tried everything but she wouldnât stop. She turned towards the oven to find yet another pan burned and then the fire alarm went off. She couldnât take it anymore. After throwing the pan in to the sink, she went upstairs, put the baby in the crib, and then ran in to her room and shut the door. Not even a minute later Noah was at her door screaming for her to open the door but she couldnât do it. She sat down with her back against the door as the tears began to fall down her face. How the fuck am I gonna do this?
