“I feel like they did a lobotomy along with the hysterectomy sometimes,” she told him. “I’ve lost all social graces.”
“You’re just rusty. And sleep deprived.”
He kept saying that he appreciated her feeding their daughter, but he wished he could help at night. If they introduced bottle feeding, Jeff could take some of the night shifts. But the thing was that she didn’t have a freezer stash of milk to use for bottles. Formula was still out of the question. Even if she did miraculously increase her milk supply so that she had reserves, she wasn’t sure about the bottle thing. There was the dreaded “nipple confusion” discussed on all the message boards. It was possible June could love the efficiency of the bottle and refuse her mother’s breasts. Gwen couldn’t imagine how terrible that type of rejection would feel. She’d tried to explain all this to Jeff, and his eyes had gotten that glassy, faraway look. She exhausted him.
They sat for dinner, June in the swing next to the table. Gwen kept her phone by her plate, willing it to light up with a text from Leigh.
“This is delicious,” Jeff said upon taking his first bite.
Itwasgood. Gwen felt like she’d lost so much competency, but she could still make a mean lasagna.
“How was your day?” Gwen asked him.
He started talking about a case he was working on right as her phone flashed, Leigh’s name on the screen. She opened the message, though she could feel Jeff’s eyes on her as he continued talking. She made the requisite sounds of an attentive listener—“uh-huh” and “right” and “oh”—as she read Leigh’s text:
Omg. Don’t even worry. I didn’t even think to mention her name. Lol. Her name is Belle. Like from Beauty and the Beast. I have second thoughts about it every other day
Gwen smiled.
“Is that your friend from group?” Jeff asked, giving up on the recounting of his day.
She was already tapping a response.
Aww, I think it’s pretty. My daughter, June, was supposed to be born in June, but she was born in May. I also have second thoughts
“Babe?” Jeff said.
“Huh? Yeah. Leigh. From group. Sorry. I felt so weird about not asking her daughter’s name. It’s Belle.”
“Crisis averted.”
She assessed his tone for sarcasm but found none. He was trying, so hard, to be supportive, and she loved him for it.
Leigh sent a laugh-cry-face emoji.
“It’s good to see you smiling,” Jeff said.
Gwen covered her mouth with her hand, embarrassed by this trivial thing that gave her happiness—a happiness that her husband had been trying to give her for weeks.
“I guess I didn’t realize how friend starved I was.”
Again, he could have reminded her that the support group was his idea. He could have said “I told you so,” but he just returned her smile. He wanted her to be happy, above all else, above his own ego. If that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.
“You should invite her over with her husband and the baby,” he said.
Gwen tried to picture it, all of them sitting together at the table, their babies in swings or loungers at their feet. It didn’t appeal to her as much as Leigh’s initial suggestion that the two of them hang out. She hadn’t even thought about the existence of Leigh’s husband, didn’t see how involving their respective men would be that fulfilling.
“I should probably get to know her a little first, right?”
“Sure, yeah. Just throwing it out there for the future,” he said.
Another text from Leigh:
I can’t remember if you said in group ... are you on mat leave from work? I’m not working now so if you wanna hang during the day sometime, let me know. The days can feel so long
Leigh sent a melting-face emoji to punctuate the text. It was Gwen’s favorite emoji since she’d become a mother.
Gwen: Ya, I’m on leave for a few months. Longer if I can swing it. Would love to get together
