“Yes, Dr. Edwards,” she manages with a soft chuckle, then winces in pain. “Karma, for teasing you.”
We move to the bedroom, where Charlotte changes with my help. I’ve transferred Amelia to her cradle to sleep, worried she’s cramped in her carrier. Thankfully, she continues to sleep since Charlotte is on the verge of passing out.
I take the breast pump out, latching it on carefully to see if Charlotte releases some milk. A few drops come out, then a few more, enough for one feed for Amelia. When it’s clear nothing else comes out, Charlotte throws her head back on the pillow and begins to cry.
“I’m a failure.”
Quickly, I put the lid on the bottle and placed it on the nightstand, removing the suction carefully from her breasts.
“You’re not a failure. You’re a mother who just gave birth to her first child.”
“It’s not my first child,” she mumbles.
I let out a sigh, forgetting Charlotte's trauma which is still weighing heavy on her mind as it does on mine. The difference is that I didn’t give birth to a stillborn baby, nor was I there to experience the trauma firsthand.
Softly, I grab Charlotte's hand and kiss it gently. “I’m here. I will always be here. Please let me help you. Amelia is our child, and I don’t want you to ever think you’re in this alone, but you need to talk to me, baby. I know you’re scared and tired and think about Alexander all the time.”
“I keep thinking, what-if?” She begins to speak with a choke in her voice. “What if I did have him? Would I have ever told you?”
There’s no answer I’m able to give. How can I imagine the ‘what-if’ when everything I want is inside this very room?
“I don’t know, Charlotte.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have,” she says with conviction. “I would have forever thought you chose your wife and child with her at the time over me. I never wanted us to be second.”
I take a deep breath, entertaining her thoughts for just a moment. “You would never have been second. I promise you that.”
“I go over it in my head. More so in the last few weeks as we drew closer to giving birth. Would I have studied Law? Would I have gone back home to my dad? What if—”
“Charlotte,” I interrupt calmly. “You need to stop asking yourself these questions. There is no answer. I’m here, and I promise you that if I knew you were having our baby, I would have been there for you.”
“But you wouldn’t have left her,” she insists.
I’m not sure if it’s the hormones talking or if I should accept her feelings about our past.
“I left the moment I found out the child she carried belonged to someone else. Did I stay with her when I thought it was my child? Yes, because I thought it was the right thing to do. God, Charlotte, I was in over my head. I wasn’t innocent in all this, and neither was Samantha. But we can’t keep going over this expecting a different outcome.”
“I know there’s no different outcome,” she mumbles while twitching her fingers. “Look, I’m tired.”
“Then please get some rest. I will wake you if I need you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I leave the room to quickly shower so Amelia doesn’t wake up. Dressed in my sweats and tee, I’m expecting a sleepless night once Amelia finds her lungs. I sit beside my sleeping wife and quickly answer some emails on my phone before Amelia begins to stir.
It always starts with a cute baby noise until it blows out into a wail. My feet touch the ground as I get out of bed and take Amelia out, bringing her to the changing table for a quick diaper change, to which she almost cries. Her face does this scrunch, then her lips begin to quiver, but then she relaxes.
When she’s in a fresh diaper, I grab the bottle to feed her. Only remembering now it’s cold, I carry Amelia in my arms to the kitchen. Carefully, I managed with one hand to boil some water on the stovetop to sit the bottle in for a few minutes. I rock Amelia back and forth until the bottle is warm and begin to feed her. She manages to drink the entire bottle. Then, I burp her until she falls into another sleep.
Once it’s evident she’s out again, I turn the lamp off and place Amelia in her cradle before settling back into bed. Maybe this isn’t so hard. So, I wake up once at night. It’s not like I was used to sleeping before this. I’ve always been a night owl.
With darkness once again casting over the room, my eyes begin to drop, only realizing now how exhausting the last few days have also been for me.
It’s pitch black when Charlotte’s voice wakes me.
“Lex,” she whispers, touching my arm gently.