‘I couldn’t get her to take the bottle. I tried everything.’
Kate is already reaching under her T-shirt to unhook her bra.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘I wanted you to have a good time. And I wanted to be able to do it. I read so much stuff online. Stroking her cheek, brushing the bottle against her lips … None of it worked.’
As soon as Rosie is in Kate’s arms, she stops crying.
‘That’s better,’ Jay says, ‘she just wanted her mummy.’
Kate looks down at her daughter, who blinks up at her with wide eyes. ‘But she always seems so much happier with you,’ she says.
Kate sometimes thinks that maybe her daughter doesn’t like her very much. Whenever she has thoughts like these, she pushes them down, knowing it’s probably not something you should think about your own baby. But now, as Rosie looks up adoringly at her, her mouth opening and closing slightly, Kate’s stomach flutters.
She focuses on getting Rosie to latch, relief flooding her as Rosie begins to feed. When she turns back to Jay, he is leant over, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His shoulders are shaking, and for a second, she thinks he might be laughing, but then she spots a tear dripping down onto the carpet.
‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ Ever since Rosie was born, tears seem to be constantly just below the surface for her, as though giving birth ripped off a layer of skin, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. But Jay hasn’t cried since the hospital.
He sniffs loudly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
‘Sorry. I wanted to be able to manage. I know you needed a break. What good am I to you if I can’t help you? And what good am I to her if I can’t even feed her?’
Watching the tears slide down his face, something inside Kate cracks wide open. Maybe she should have headed straight back after the swim. But it had felt so good to sit on the bank with her new friends, sharing cake and easy conversation and watching the river.
She looks at her husband more closely now, taking in theshadows beneath his eyes and the lost look on his face. She knows he’s been tired since Rosie was born – they both have – but he’d seemed so happy.
‘Jay, she adores you! I see the way she looks up at you. Sometimes I think she only likes me for my breasts,’ she admits.
‘That’s not true!’ Jay answers quickly. ‘You’re her mum. And you’re literally keeping her alive! It’s just awesome what you’re doing for her. I feel useless sometimes. Like I’m not doing enough for her, or for you. Like you don’t even need me. And I really want to do a good job. I so want to be a good dad …’
His voice cracks again, his shoulders slumped. Looking at him, Kate wonders how she missed the pain and worry on his face that seems so obvious now. Maybe she just hasn’t looked closely enough. Maybe she hasn’t even been able to contemplate that he might be struggling too because she has needed him so much, his steadfast, reassuring OKness. But that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone.
She strokes his back gently as she looks down at Rosie’s face, her eyelids fluttering as she feeds. She looks so peaceful suddenly, her face slack and soft. In moments like these, Kate feels the enormous privilege of being able to do this for her child. But like everything to do with motherhood, there’s another side to it too.
‘I’m glad to be able to do this, but it does come with a huge amount of responsibility. The thought that I’m solely responsible for whether she eats or drinks? It’s terrifying! And sometimes I wish I could just do cuddles without having to get my boobs out.’
‘I can see that,’ Jay says, wiping his face again and lookingup. ‘I guess there are good and bad parts of both our roles.’
‘And youarea good dad,’ she says, her voice cracking. ‘When I see the two of you together … I justseeit. How much you love her. I always knew you’d be a great dad. It’s one of the reasons why I married you.’
For all the ups and downs they’ve had in their relationship, it’s one thing she’s never doubted.
‘I hope you know how amazingly you’re doing, Kate,’ Jay says softly. ‘I’m so, so proud of you. The health visitor was right – you’re a natural.’
And then Kate’s heart really cracks open. She tries to hold the tears back at first, not wanting to step on Jay’s moment. But they’ve been bottled up inside her for so long that once the first tear has fallen, the others come pouring out after.
‘I’m not, though. You have no idea …’
He shuffles closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she continues to cradle Rosie in her arms. As she lets him hold her, she thinks how much she doesn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t be comforting her like this, not when she’s such a fraud. For so long, she’s been trying to keep everything at bay but she can’t keep pretending anymore. It’s too exhausting.
‘What is it, Kate? What’s wrong?’
‘I’mwhat’s wrong,’ she says between sobs. ‘I’m not a natural at all. I’m an awful mother. And you’ll think so too when I tell you the truth …’
CHAPTER 24
Kate just knew that meeting her baby would be the greatest moment of her life. She had a clear vision of the moment in her head, created by every book she’d ever read that featured childbirth, every film or TV show she’d watched with a woman lying on a hospital bed, yelling and screaming. She’d be sweaty and exhausted. Probably, she would have just sworn at her husband or a medical professional. But as soon as her daughter was finally placed in her arms, she would cry tears of joy. She would recognise her face immediately. She would feel euphoric. Complete.
