“I invited my friend and her boyfriend over for a fun wine and painting night. ‘Where’s your son? Is your son asleep?’ he asked. I told him no, he was gone and under my husband’s supervision for the night. ‘WHAT? HE is gonna watch the baby? Why aren’t YOU watching him?’ I was LIVID.”
‘Your HUSBAND cleans?! Isn’t that your job?’ My jaw dropped. I could feel my blood boiling. Then, he proceeded to ask questions.’
‘What the heck is going on? Have we been robbed?!’ I walk through an ocean of toys and books. My husband and baby are hidden among thrown sofa cushions. Sheer panic sets in.’
“‘She’s fallen asleep. Should I carry her to bed?’ Lunchtime. My phone pings again. ‘She’s woken up. What should I give her for lunch?’ I tell him she likes the pre-made pouches of baby food in the cupboard. Another text. ‘I can’t find the pouches.’ I can’t wait for Daddy to realize that staying at home isn’t all about box sets and playtime.”
‘I’m the lady with the dead baby. It’s okay, I’m allowed to be so blunt because it’s my truth.’
“One day my baby was living and the next day she died. That is what happened. It doesn’t offend me if you acknowledge this. It offends me when you don’t.”
