[Critique Group 1] November's story

[Deanna Noriega]

723 words.

Alone

By DeAnna Quietwater Noriega

 

                (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. 

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. 

All day Laurie was alone with their tiny daughter five hours away from her
mom or older sisters.

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.

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.

 

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.

"Hello, I need help! I think I am a terrible mother," she sobbed.

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." 

Laurie hiccupped through her explanation of frustration and fear.

"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."

                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.                       

 

-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://bluegrasspals.com/pipermail/group1/attachments/20191114/7d3c1cbb/attachment.html>