by Julie Dewey
I admit I felt relieved when she took the bottle from James, and I prayed that tonight he would give our daughter her night time feedings so that I might sleep solidly for a few hours. I hardly heard her cries, but felt James climb out of bed to prepare the bottle for Lucy. I drifted back to sleep and didn’t wake again until morning and by then Jennifer had arrived to help. She fed the baby all day long and insisted I stay put in bed. She filled the bath for me and brought me more cabbage leaves for my breasts. Lucy was very content and I felt so much better as the day progressed.
I watched my friend as she comforted my baby. Her movements were natural and calm. I was in awe at how easily nurturing a baby was for her. I felt awkward and questioned all of my movements. I was tired and cried often now as a result. I wasn’t myself and didn’t know if I ever would be again.
My body healed and I was physically capable of caring for my child. Lucy was quite needy and cried more than she rested. Jennifer called it ‘colic’ and claimed one of her boys had it too. Colicky babies were fussy and hard to soothe she explained, but it got better with time, she assured me. I tried holding Lucy with her belly positioned against my arm, I rocked her, walked her, and sometimes just let her cry herself to sleep. I was at my wit’s end by the afternoon. Preparing supper was nearly impossible with a baby that required so much attention. Still I tried to at least scramble eggs or make toast.
James didn’t complain about our small meals. He took the baby when he came home at night and ordered me to sit, or go outdoors to be alone. He sensed my frustration and felt it as well when Lucy was having one of her fits. She also spit up continuously so we wondered if she was digesting the milk we provided, and if she was always hungry.
One afternoon when I had tried everything to appease my daughter, I felt so frustrated that I needed to leave her or I was afraid I would hurt her. I left her in the center of the bed, entombed among the pillows that I propped all around her so she wouldn’t fall off. I wasn’t afraid she would roll over, she was far from that, I was only concerned she would throw up and choke. Still I had to get away. I went into the chicken coop and covered my ears to muffle the sound of her cries. I put a chicken on my lap and began plucking her feathers, she tried to get away and clucked at my shoulder with her beak, but I held her down. Once the cries stopped and silence ensued I let the bird go. Suddenly I was terrified something was wrong so I ran to the house, but Lucy was sleeping peacefully. She woke fifteen minutes later with red-rimmed eyes from crying so much. I picked her up and apologized for leaving her.
“Lucy, I love you, darling. It is hard though, please understand and don’t be mad.” I rocked her and kissed her cheeks.
When she was a few months old Jennifer suggested that we try solid foods. So we mixed powdered rice with milk to a thin consistency she could handle. She turned her nose up at first, but finally started to eat. She gained a small amount of weight and slept better at night.
I had developed insomnia and found sleep elusive. At night I paced the floors while James and Lucy snuggled together and slept. I worried about my daughter’s health and her tiny weight. I was afraid I would do something wrong, like lay her the wrong way or drop her. Jennifer told me it was normal to fret, that it meant I was a good mother. My anxiety peaked and I became obsessed with Lucy’s care and the orderliness of the house. I drove myself crazy by seeking perfection.
Hetty and I cleaned the tub together, making it appear spotless. We scrubbed the floors, and dusted the furniture every day. When the baby cried I instinctively tended to her needs, but whenever I held her I felt unease because of all the laundry that was piling up, or the barn that needed fresh hay, or the bed that had to be made.
I drove myself crazy until one day Lucy rolled over and smiled up at me. I was overcome with joy. I felt an acceptance by her in that moment that melted my heart. I cheered her as she rolled again and again. She cooed and smiled recognizing her feat and sensing my enthusiasm.
I could hardly wait to tell James when he came home that night. For once, I left the chores and just played with my baby. It was delightful, her smile was bright and contagious. We lay together on the rug and rolled left and right, holding each other’s hands, staring into one another’s eyes and bonding, finally. All the months of colic made me feel inferior, nothing I tried helped ease my child’s discomfort. Today was a new beginning.
Chapter Eleven
Lucy and Suzette
“Look at her go,” James said.
Lucy had taken her first steps between James and me unexpectedly one Saturday afternoon. We were outdoors by the water’s edge, enjoying a picnic of chicken and biscuits. I held Lucy in an upright position and she attempted to toddle forward but quickly fell. We picked her up and she tried again, soon enough she took two, then three steps between us. After a week of toddling, she was an expert walker and had so much to explore. She didn’t like to be too far away from me, but would dare to go in the parlor while I was in the kitchen, calling for me, “ma?” while she discovered new things.
She said ‘ma-ma’ and ‘da-da’ and recognized us as the recipients to her words. She said ‘ba-ba’ too and learned to point at her bottles on the counter when she was hungry.
“It’s such a relief, James,” I said one night appreciating the fact that Lucy slept soundly through the night now and no longer lay between James and me.
“I agree,” James said as he slowly undressed me and began bedding me once more. He brought me to pleasures I hadn’t known were possible, but we always muffled our voices, for we didn’t want to be interrupted by a crying infant.
“I love you, James,” I said, peering into his knowing eyes.
“I love you more,” he chimed, kissing my nose.
James cut back on his hours a few days a week in order to lend a hand around the house. We ate together as a family and put the baby to bed soon after so we could enjoy quality time together.
All of the bedding led to a second pregnancy. Lucy would be having a sibling within the year. I was certain I was carrying again, and when I told my husband he was thrilled to add to our family. I enjoyed the thickness of my belly the second time around, and appreciated each little flutter and kick. This baby was larger, and my appetite was heartier. I was also more tired, so certain jobs like dusting went undone. I tried not to fret over the house and instead allowed myself a reprieve. I occasionally had anxious moments when the toilet was growing brown with stains, or we had eaten eggs for three nights in a row.
On one such occasion I slaughtered one of our chickens and prepared it for our evening meal. I de-boned the bird so it would fit in our small oven, seasoned the skin with salt and pepper and put it in early to bake slowly so it would be nice and succulent. I chopped carrots and made a pie, all while Lucy napped. I felt so accomplished in this moment and knew I was a good mother.
That night I felt as if I had it all. My husband was delighted to have such a hearty meal, my daughter was healthy, and I felt certain I was carrying a boy. I had made one friend, Jennifer, and rarely thought of my time at Willard, Cat, or of my family and siblings. I had my own family now and took joy in each fragile moment.
Four months later, my water broke. I felt the soaked sheets beneath me in bed as I slept and woke thinking I had peed myself. I knew however, that this was different because the labor pains began almost immediately.
“James, James, wake up.” I shook him awake frantically for I was not due for two more months.
“What is it, what time is it?”
“It’s the middle of the night, but, James, my water broke. You need to get Kathy and Jennifer.”
My husband pulled on a shirt and pants, then ran out the door to fetch help. We were both fearful for I wasn’t meant to deliver for two more months.
“Push!” Kathy ordered while Jennifer held tight to my hand.
“It’s a girl!” She announced after an hour of hard labor.
“How is she, Kathy? Is she going to be alright?” We were all worried
what it meant that she was premature, but Kathy said based on her color and wail that she was healthy even if she was on the small size. She suggested keeping her in a warming pan while she slept as a precaution.
We named her Suzette Grace and adored her from the moment she entered our lives.
“She is so different from Lucy,” James said, as when we lay in bed side by side a few nights after her birth.
“She is a fighter. She nurses well, sleeps well and doesn’t fuss,” I added.
“Thank God. I am not sure I could handle another colicky baby.” My husband admitted.
“Thank God is right, she is certainly good natured, and Lucy is precious with her.” Our sweet little family was perfect. I wanted so badly to give my husband a son, but for now we had these two darling angels. I grabbed the blue baby blanket I had saved for nearly two years and presented it to James.
“I was hoping to give this to you if it was a boy.”
“It’s so soft, why can’t we use it anyway? We’ll have a boy next.” I agreed there would be a next time because I loved our family so dearly. My husband was attentive to the girls and to me as well. He always kissed me first when he came in from work, and he provided well for us. I was growing to enjoy being a home-maker and saw no reason not to expand. After a few weeks of bliss I started to feel exceedingly tired and melancholy. Jennifer called it the ‘baby blues’ and said it would go away in time. She suggested I nurse for as long as I could to help balance my hormones. Suzette felt extraordinarily heavy in my arms and I always wanted to sleep. I often fell asleep when the girls were awake, but my body needed the rest so desperately that I relented and just lay down on the couch. I slacked off in meal preparation and over the course of a few weeks the house became disheveled.
“James, I just can’t muster the energy to do it all,” I said apologetically one night.
“The house doesn’t have to be perfect, Iona, as long as the children are tended that’s all that matters.” I wouldn’t admit to him that I often napped throughout the day. I was beginning to feel like a failure but didn’t have the wherewithal to change.
The following night when James came home, he made dinner and took care of the girls. I lay on the couch and closed my eyes. Three weeks ago life was perfect, how had I unraveled in such a short period of time? I was irritable and impatient with Lucy, and didn’t have the desire to nurse Suzette. She would nurse around the clock if I let her but I kept her to a schedule of every three hours so I could have a reprieve. She was gaining weight and all signs pointed that she was normal and healthy.
“We have so much to be grateful for, James. So why don’t I feel happy anymore?” I cried as he held me one night.
“Honey, everything will be fine. Trust me. You just need more rest, the girls take so much out of you and it’s taxing on your body.” My body was rail thin, I lost the baby weight very quickly this time. That night James tucked the children snug in bed and we fell asleep together as usual.
“What are you doing? It’s two a.m. in the morning.” James chided me when he found me awake and working in the kitchen.
I felt like I was in a trance. Hetty woke me up to do some proper cleaning and I followed her into the kitchen. We started with polishing the silverware, then organizing drawers they went in. I found mouse droppings across the counter tops and was driven to rid all evidence and existence of vermin from my house once and for all.
“Huh, what?” I answered surprised.
“Have you been doing this every night? No wonder you’re so tired.” He took the rag from my hand and began leading me back to bed.
“But, James, the mice are back. There is scat on the counters and I can’t let them get into the food stores. Hetty and I will work all night, I can rest tomorrow.”
It made no sense, James looked worried at the mention of Hetty because although I had seen her from time to time I made no mention of her.
“Hetty is here?”
“Yes, she’s starting on that end of the kitchen and I’m starting here. Now give me back my rag so I can work.”
“How about you show me where the mice have been and I’ll take care of it?”
I pointed to the droppings leading from the doorway, along the edges of the kitchen, parlor, and back hallway. I dropped my rag in place of the broom and started sweeping furiously at the scat.
“Iona, you’re tired. Please go to bed.”
I knew James wouldn’t give up, so I gave Hetty a disapproving glance so she knew how perturbed I was and followed him back to our room. In the morning the kitchen was spotless. My husband had rid us of the vermin and had the girls fed and dressed for the day.
“Thank you, James. It’s very nice to start the day like this.”
“Well, I thought perhaps you could use a break. Jennifer was asking about the girls so I thought I’d bring them to her for the morning.”
“That would be nice, but it’s not necessary. I can take care of them, I am okay.”
“Iona, you were cleaning like a mad woman last night, and you kept showing me traces of mice that were not there. Iona, do you hear me? There weren’t any mice. Plus, Hetty was with you.”
“I know. Hetty has been here a lot. James, I know she isn’t real, but I can’t help when she shows up. She has good intentions she really does, she doesn’t want me to lose you so she helps me clean and keep order.”
“What about the mice? You are so tired you are seeing things. I am worried, honey. I want you to be well. One day you can’t get out of bed, the next you spend crying, and then I find you scouring the place at night.”
“You knew what you married, James. I never said I was sane, or perfect. I cry, I feel sad, my body is so heavy it just wants to quit. Then I hear the girls, or you walk through the door and I want to try. I want to do better. Just let me be.”
“But that’s just it, you are so hard on yourself, Dear. You don’t have to try so hard. I love you just as you are, for who you are. You are the mother of my children, and I love you. How can I help?”
“Just go to work and don’t worry about me.” James was reluctant, but he dressed for the day, packed a lunch and left.
Hetty tried to offer comfort, but the girls kept interrupting our conversations. I spanked Lucy’s bottom when she refused to let me be and she ran off into the parlor sulking. She carried her special baby blanket with her, it was unraveling at the edge and I would put it on my list to fix that night.
The baby was sleeping soundly so I went to the coop to collect eggs and have a moment alone. I just needed to sit and breathe in the fresh air. I collected a half dozen brown eggs and lay them carefully in my basket. Then I sat and closed my eyes. I must have nodded off for I woke to the baby’s cries. I quickly grabbed the basket and forced my body to walk forward back into my house.
“Suzette, it’s alright.” I picked up my baby and allowed her to nurse even though it hadn’t been a full three hours since her last feeding. She ate frantically on the right side and I alternated her to the left.
“Lucy?” I called out for Lucy, who was never far from her sister. I worried about how long I slept in the coop and called out for her again.
I stood with the baby and called out as I searched the house. A sinking feeling settled in my gut and I ran outside, I screamed “Lucy! Come here right this minute!” at the top of my lungs.
“If you are playing hide and seek you need to come out. Lucy? You are scaring mommy.”
I ran behind the house, towards the garden but Lucy was nowhere to be found.
I put my finger against my nipple to break Suzette’s suction. I put her in her crib and although she cried nonstop I had to find Lucy. After searching the house and surrounding property to no avail for half an hour or more I knew I had to get my husband.
I ran the two miles to the mill, leaving the baby in her crib so I could get here faster.
“James!” I screamed as I approached. He heard me at once and stopped what he was doing.
“Ion
a, what is it, are you okay? Where are the girls?” He asked frantically.
“I can’t find Lucy! James, I can’t find her.” I told him I put the baby in her crib after I nursed her and ran all the way here to fetch him. The men at the mill stopped working and formed a search party for my daughter. I went back to Suzette while the men paired off into teams going in all possible directions. James stayed behind to get the rest of the story.
“I scolded Lucy for interrupting me, she sulked into the parlor and played with her blocks. I nursed the baby and put her down to nap, went to the coop for eggs and fell asleep. James, I didn’t mean to, I just closed my eyes for a minute.”
“Then what happened?” He asked calmly.
“I heard the baby crying and woke up, nursed her again, and called out for Lucy. I thought she was playing hide and seek, James.”
“We will find her, Iona. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
But I knew I did. I had done the unforgivable and let Hetty back in. I scolded my daughter because she was interrupting my discussion with Hetty. Hetty was on my back about the rugs and I just didn’t care about their cleanliness. I was telling Hetty to leave me be, but Lucy was being a bother and needing my constant attention. I didn’t have the patience for her at the moment so I sent her away with a spank to her bottom and warning to hush. She whimpered softly, as she dragged her blanket behind her towards the parlor. My heart broke because I knew I owed her an apology, and intended to give her one just as soon as she was found.
The men would find her. There were ten of them and she couldn’t have gotten too far, but then I thought of the river. Oh, God. Please, God, no. Don’t let her have tried to cross the river. She knew how to get to the river’s edge for we often walked there for our picnics. She was always tempted to dip her toes in, and we were fearful one day she’d wander down alone and try to swim.
A few men came back but they didn’t have Lucy with them. They got drinks and set off in a new direction. Some men brought dogs, and others brought rifles. I sank to the ground with Suzette in my arms and cried.
