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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>723 words.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Alone<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>By DeAnna Quietwater Noriega<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> (I can’t do this!) Thought Laurie as tears streamed down her face mingling with the hot water cascading over her from the shower head. She had walked the floor until she had stumbled in to the walls and furniture. She had rocked Lindsay in the rocking chair bought by her parents to celebrate the new grandchild until her legs cramped with charley horses. Still the baby wailed and drew her legs up in agony. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'>Brad was working two jobs to support their little family so Laurie could be at home with Lindsay. Each morning he left before five and didn’t return until ten at night. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'>All day Laurie was alone with their tiny daughter five hours away from her mom or older sisters.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'>Ten minutes ago, Laurie had finally snapped. She screamed at the baby and had to put her down in the crib because she was afraid she would shake her or fling her against the wall. She had fled out of the nursery closing the door, dashing across the hall to the bedroom she shared with Brad; she closed that door and rushed in to the bathroom beyond. Closing that door too, she had stripped off her clothes and jumped in to the cramped shower stall. With three closed doors and the pounding of the water, she couldn’t hear the wailing baby. Slowly, Laurie calmed down. When the water began to get cold, she turned it off and stepped back in to sanity. Quickly, she toweled herself off and pulled on her sweat-shirt and jeans. She opened the bathroom door and listened to the silence. She hurried to open the next two closed doors and anxiously looked in to the crib. Lindsay lay curled where she had finally fallen in to an exhausted sleep.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'>A horrible thought occurred to Laurie. Was the baby too still? Was Lindsay breathing? The overwrought young mother darted back to her own room and snatched an antique silver backed hand mirror her grandmother had given her. She crept back to stand over the crib. With a trembling hand, she lowered the mirror close to her daughter’s tear stained face. She watched intently until a faint mist formed on the surface of the glass. Thank God! The baby was asleep.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'> Laurie moved quietly out of the room and padded on bare feet in to the kitchenette. She shuffled through the papers in the drawer under the shelf that held the phone. Yes! Here it was. The simply printed business card the nurse had given her when she left the hospital read: (Erin Ellis, La Leche League Leader, mother to mother, Breastfeeding and childcare Consultant for new mothers. Shakily she dialed the number listed on the card.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'>“Hello, I need help! I think I am a terrible mother,” she sobbed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>A soft voice replied, “Take a deep breath. Tell me what is going on. Where is your baby? Tell me what is happening and why you think you are a bad mother.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Laurie hiccupped through her explanation of frustration and fear.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>“Sweetheart, of course you aren’t a bad mother. You did exactly the right thing when you made sure Lindsay was safe and took yourself off until you were calmer. You have excellent instincts. You are tired and inexperienced. New babies are a lot of work. You are still recovering from childbirth. Take a minute to get a glass of water, blow your nose and tell me what you have tried so far to help Lindsay with her colic.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> Erin stretched, yawned and slipped her cell phone back into the holster clipped to her waistband. She might have a half an hour before her 18 month old twins woke from their afternoon naps. She could probably get a load of wash started and get a pan of lasagna out of the freezer and into the oven. She placed her notepad back on the nightstand. She hoped Caroline Franklin would be at the next meeting on Thursday. Laurie’s address was a few blocks from the Franklins’ home. It would be good if the two could get acquainted. Laurie needed a friend more than breastfeeding advice. New mothers were so isolated these days. They often lacked the support network of relatives and neighbors to fall back on that their own mothers had to help them weather those post pregnancy days. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>