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“Okay, sweet girl. It’s time for bed.” As if she knows what I’m saying, Madeline rubs at her eyes. “Mama’s tired too,” I tell her. I rock her for a few minutes until she’s sound asleep. Carefully, I place her in her bed and tiptoe out of her room.
In the kitchen, I make myself two pieces of toast with peanut butter for dinner and drink two glasses of water before moving to the couch and settling in for the night. The apartment is one bedroom, so I gave it to Madeline. I sold my bed because we don’t have room for it, but that’s okay. The couch is comfortable. It’s just me, and we don’t have a whole lot of visitors.
The shrill sound of my daughter crying jolts me from sleep. It’s just after midnight. I’m guessing the Tylenol from earlier has worn off. Time for another dose of that as well as her antibiotic, a diaper change, and a little boob. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get her back to sleep.
“Hey,” I coo when I enter her room. “It’s all right,” I tell her. “Mommy’s here.” She sniffs but her cries quiet when I pick her up—that lasts until I lay her down to change her. “I’ve got you,” I say, picking her back up, and she shudders from her cries. “You have to take your medicine, and then you can eat,” I tell her. Some might say I’m crazy for talking to my five-month-old like she can understand me, but what they don’t understand is that she is my person, my heart, and my entire world.
She’s all that I have.
It takes me two tries to get both of her medicines down her. She’s screaming at this point. I’m just waiting for the neighbors to complain, not that they have a leg to stand on. They argue at all hours of the night. I’ve never said a word, even when they wake Madeline.
Twenty minutes later, my girl is asleep. Again, I lay her as carefully as I can into her crib and wait a few minutes making sure that she’s going to stay asleep before going back to the living room and plopping back down on the couch.
I’m exhausted, but I can’t fall back to sleep. Grabbing a paperback I’ve read more times than I can count, I try to get lost in the story, but it’s no use. I know it by heart, and it’s not holding my attention. Tossing the book aside, I close my eyes and will myself to fall asleep. I don’t know how long I lie here, but eventually, I drift off. My daughter must be feeling better because it’s not until 6:00 a.m. that her cries wake me up again. Six solid hours she slept. Too bad I can’t say the same for myself.
A diaper change and breakfast, and my girl is ready for some medicine. Her fever is gone, and she seems to be more settled and doesn’t appear to be in pain. I decide to pass on the Tylenol for now, but I’ll be sure to put it in the diaper bag in case we need it while we’re out. I’m in the middle of changing her outfit when my cell phone rings. It’s old as hell, a flip phone, and it’s prepaid, which means I don’t have many minutes each month. However, with Madeline, I feel as though I need a phone in case of an emergency.
“Hello?” I greet my best friend, Carrie. She and I have been friends since middle school, and she’s been a godsend since losing Travis.
“Hey. I’ll be quick,” she says, knowing I don’t like to waste my minutes. I can only afford a small amount each month. “You’re off today, right?”
“Yes, but just because Maddie is sick again.”
“Shit. Well, I was going to suggest coffee. How about I bring it to you?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course, I do. I’m about fifteen minutes away. Let me hit the drive-thru, and I’ll be there. Can I pick anything up for you?”
“No. Thank you, though.”
She doesn’t argue with me like I know that she wants to. “I’ll see you in a little while,” she says, ending the call.
“Well, it looks like Aunt Carrie is coming to visit,” I tell Madeline. She coos up at me. With her belly full and the medicine working, she’s back to my happy baby girl. Placing her in her swing, which she’s almost too big for, I straighten up my blankets and pillows on the couch and wash the few dishes that are in the sink. I’m wiping off the counters when there’s a knock at the door. Dropping the dish towel, I rush to let Carrie inside. “Hey,” I greet her.
“Morning.”
“Are you off today, I guess? I didn’t ask.”
“Yes. I worked a twelve-hour yesterday for a girl, and she took my shift today.”
