does this feel like peace to you too?
Alexander
Jenna’s baby, Sophia, won’t stop crying. Luckily, she was asleep when the patient came in this morning, because her screeching sounds like the last pterodactyl being murdered.
“She’s the worst baby! I can’t believe I had two perfect angel babies and number three is a fusspot. It’s nonstop,” Jenna says.
“It’s not just fussy, she’s, like,wailing. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with her?”
Jenna rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just colicky, which is some word doctors use to make you feel like it’s normal that your baby cries twenty-four/seven. I am losing my mind. She won’t stop.”
Jenna is shooshing her and looking into her eyes, silently begging Sophia to be quiet. She’s rocking and changing the baby’s position multiple times. Nothing is helping. Jenna is a very down-to-earth person. She’s not dramatic or whiny, so I know this is getting to her. She’s lost all of the pregnancy weight and then some, and looks hollow, like she hasn’t slept in a year. I feelbad for even asking her to come back to work, but she said she wanted to. And now I think I understand why.
“Do you care that I invited Dani and the boys to come meet her?”
“Do they want to see what a possessed baby looks like?”
I shrug. “She’s really cute.”
The door jingles and in walks Dani and the boys. “Hi,” Dani says cheerily just before her smile disappears. “Oh no, unhappy baby on the loose.” Dani is dressed differently. She’s wearing a flowing skirt and a tank top. It’s very Earth Mothery for her. Maybe this is what she wears on Saturdays now? She seems different, more relaxed today, despite the screaming baby.
Dani walks up to Jenna and kisses her on the cheek. “You look amazing,” she says. It’s a lie…the good kind.
“Can you believe this? I should know how to do this!” Jenna says. “I can’t believe I’m having the hardest time with this one. The labor was fine, but once she was out, she wouldn’t latch and then when she finally did, shedestroyedmy nipples, now all she does is cry all day.” Ethan winces. Dani just listens and Noah and I are both focused on the baby. I’m hoping someone will get her to shut up soon.
“I’m about to start lactating myself,” Dani says with a laugh.
“Gross, Mom.” Noah frowns.
“Has she eaten?” Dani asks.
“Yes, more than enough,” Jenna says.
“Noah was like this. He was my first, so I got it out of the way. When I had Ethan, it felt like a Sunday stroll in the park.”
Ethan looks at Noah and smiles boastfully.
“I’m losing my mind,” Jenna says, exasperated.
“Here, let me see that baby.”
Dani has the baby in her left arm as she takes the blanket off the desk and wraps it around Sophia several times, verytight. Sophia is screaming bloody murder. Dani takes the end of the blanket and uses it to cover the baby’s eyes. She then puts the wrapped-up baby burrito in the crease of her arm and holds the baby tight against her chest, rocking and making a clicking noise with her tongue every two seconds. Suddenly, I’m right back in those early days—and sleepless nights—with Noah.
Miraculously, Sophia stops crying. She makes a few mewling sounds and then she’s quiet. Dani continues clacking and rocking her while Jenna stares in disbelief. Dani puts a finger to her mouth, and we all stand in silence for about three minutes until Dani slowly stops the noise and motion.
Once it’s completely quiet and she’s standing still with the baby, she whispers, “She’s asleep. This was exactly how Noah was. It took me a couple of months to figure out.”
“What did you do? Isn’t she squished?”
“Not any more squished than she was in your belly.” I’m basically reading lips now because Jenna and Dani are talking in hushed tones. “Sometimes their little brains aren’t ready for all the stimuli and voices. If they can’t see anything, then they can’t be overwhelmed. And the clicking is like something to focus on that’s consistent, like white noise, or your heartbeat, which was cozy to her. My old neighbor taught me this trick. I felt like I was abusing Noah or something by wrapping him up so tight and clacking at him, but it works. They sleep and so do you.”
“Thank you, Dani. This is the first time I’ve felt that there is hope. I’m serious. It’s like I’m seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.” Dani laughs. Jenna is being a little dramatic. She walks up to me quietly and says, “I can’t believe you divorced her. I’d marry her myself.”
Dani is oblivious now, in her own world. She’s sitting in one of the waiting room chairs, holding the baby. She’s just staring atSophia lovingly and all I want to know is what she’s thinking about at this moment.
I really believe that if it wasn’t for the miscarriages, Dani would have had five kids…at least. It’s bad enough to have one second-term miscarriage, but two? Absolutely crushing; it destroyed her for a very long time.
After the first, we tried again. Noah and Ethan were still toddler-aged, two and three years old. Dani got pregnant right away, but she kept it a secret. She didn’t even tell me until after her doctor’s visit when it was confirmed with a blood test and ultrasound. She saw the heartbeat, came home, and walked up to me at the kitchen sink as I was doing dishes. She had Ethan on her hip—I remember he was twirling her long hair around his index finger.
