Jake

When I had Jake it was a c-section and Jeff (his father) was there. I got up to recovery and Jeff left. My mother, who only came down for 2 days, was watching Jackson who was running one of his high fevers. Three days later Jeff returned to pick me up. He wouldn’t leave Jackson. Wouldn’t ask someone to watch him. It was just Jake and I. My mother and Jeff’s daughter were our only visitors. And each of them only once and three days later.

I remember holding Jake and telling him, “It’s going to be me and you.”

The nurse came in on day two and gave me a quiz for postpartum depression. I cried even more. I answered every answer to pass. Lying with each one. I thought it was situational and she didn’t understand what I was going through. My alcoholic, pill-addicted husband was at home and I had just given birth to or second child. I felt so alone.

I grew used to being alone and doing things alone in Tennessee. No family nearby. Semi-reliable friends. I’m a bit of a loner anyway. An ambivert.

I sit here as Jake talks I look at him and think he’s everything I thought he’d be. Silly, happy, sweet and loving. And it’s Jake, Jackson and I. I wouldn’t change a thing.

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