“Hey, you,” Jeff said as she stirred in bed, awakening from a midday nap or overnight sleep, she wasn’t sure.
He was sitting in a chair next to her bed, June in his arms. Gwen had been too out of it to give Leigh the unlock code for her phone, so Leigh hadn’t been able to get ahold of Jeff. But the hospital had had him listed as Gwen’s emergency contact and called him. He’d left court to be with her and tend to June.
“Has June eaten?” Gwen asked.
It was a stupid question. Of course they wouldn’t have let June starve until Gwen recovered.
“We gave her some food,” Jeff said.
What was he talking about? And who was “we”?
“Food?She’s not old enough forfood,” Gwen said with a laugh that came out tinny and made her sound insane.
“Nutrition,” Jeff said. He cleared his throat. “We gave her nutrition.”
He was looking down at June, not meeting Gwen’s eyes. It felt so much like that day he’d told her she no longer had a womb.
“What did you give her?” she asked him.
Though, in her heart, she knew.
He sighed, heavily.
“Some formula,” he said. “I know that’s not what you would have wanted, but she needed to eat.”
The tears came suddenly and with a surprising intensity. She understood, logically, why this had to happen. Her baby was hungry. Her baby needed to eat. She was unable to feed her. But she was still upset, betrayed by her husband and these doctors who were making decisions without her ... again.
“I know that’s upsetting for you,” Jeff said.
She resented the “for you.” It was like he was drawing attention to the fact that it wasn’t upsettingfor him, that it wouldn’t be upsetting for any rational person. He’d been pro-formula since day one, when breastfeeding had proved to be an unrelenting challenge. He’d never truly valued the commitment she had to it, despite all the information she shared with him about why breast was truly best. He just didn’t get it. He wasn’t saddled with the same pressures she was as a mother. He didn’t feel the same sense of duty to their child.Must be nice,Gwen thought.
“Can I hold her?” she asked.
He placed June on her chest, and Gwen sobbed, silently apologizing to her daughter for failing her, yet again. What kind of formula was it? Did the hospital supply it? Did Jeff get it? In either case, it was probably standard and cheap, definitely not organic or tailored for sensitive tummies like June’s.
“So she took a bottle?” Gwen asked.
It was a stupid question. How else would June have consumed formula? But she needed confirmation of this calamity.
“She did,” Jeff said. “Like a champ!”
His celebration of this fact made her feel even more alone. June taking a bottle hurt her feelings more than the actual contents of the bottle. She had wanted to believe that June would reject a bottle, would turn her tiny nose up at anything that was not her mother’s body. But no. It turned out June was completely content with this alternative to her mother. She didn’t really need her mother, after all.
Gwen kept sobbing, and Jeff put his hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, honey,” he said.
He sounded less like he was heartbroken on her behalf, and more like he was impatient with her being heartbroken.
“You’re coming off a pretty serious medical event,” he said in his lawyerly tone. “You’re going to feel better about everything once your body is recovered.”
He’d said something similar after June’s birth, after the hysterectomy, and he was wrong; she didn’t feel better. And now this, compounding it all.
“When can I feed her?” she asked.
“I don’t know, hon,” he said. “We can ask the doctor.”
She had a feeling he did know, though; he just didn’t want to be the messenger.
