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“I just wish I could hold her even when she’s fussy.” I drew in a deep breath. “The bond between us grows stronger when I’m actually taking care of her.”
Lincoln stepped into the room at that moment and pulled his shirt over his head before he dropped his jeans to the floor. Then, he slipped into bed in front of me, his hand easily finding mine under the blanket. “One day, this will be easier for you,” Lincoln soothed. “Until then, Jessie and I are here to take care of her. We want you to focus on stabilizing your moods and your feelings so that you can eventually take care of her.”
“Women have postpartum depression all the time, and yet they still take care of their babies.”
“And I’m sure you would too if we forced you to,” Jessie said, immediately cutting off that train of thought. “But we understand mental health better than most people. We’ve seen what depression can do to you, baby, and we’re doing our best to avoid that. So, no, we’re not forcing you to do anything with her. The only thing we’re forcing you to do right now is to focus on yourself and spend time with her when it won’t overwhelm you.”
I squeezed Lincoln’s hand in mine as I drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to get through this,” I said, forcing my voice to come out strong. Lincoln smiled at me, a proud gleam in his eyes, as Jessie tightened his arms around me. “I love her, and I made a promise to her when I found out I was pregnant that I would be a better mom to her than my mom was to me, and I intend on keeping that promise.”
“That’s our woman,” Jessie grumbled as he nuzzled my neck. “Every day, I want you to wake up and say that to yourself. You’ll make it through this, and when you come out on the other side of it, Hope will be there waiting on you, just like we were when you spiraled into depression your very first time.”
“I love you both,” I told them, my voice thick with so many emotions that I couldn’t pinpoint just one.
“And we love you,” Lincoln softly replied. He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips with mine. “Get some rest.”
Hope was screeching, jerking me awake. Jessie and Lincoln both shot out of bed, and Lincoln stayed in the room with me as Jessie went to go check on Hope. I looked over at the alarm clock, sighing when I saw it wasn’t even their normal time to go feed her and change her diaper.
Her crying quieted, and Jessie came into the room a moment later with her cradled in his arms. I sat up as Lincoln sat back down on the bed, and with a nervous look up at Jessie, I held my hands out for her.
He gave me an encouraging smile as he sat down and gently placed my baby girl in my arms. She looked up at me with those stunning blue eyes Lincoln had, her eyes running over my face as she lightly cooed.
“Hi, pretty girl,” I whispered.
This was easy for me. But when she got fussy was when I got overwhelmed.
I just wanted to be normal so I could be the mom she needed. Why couldn’t I just be fucking normal?
Instead, I was this fucked up mess that my sweet angel didn’t deserve.
Lincoln moved behind me, and after placing a pillow behind his back, he drew me into his arms, wrapping his muscular arms under mine as I relaxed back against him. Jessie laid down with his head on my lap, and both men watched me, keeping me calm as I held Hope in my arms.
One day, it would get easier, and I wouldn’t need them to coddle me so much as I tried to be her mother.
One day, I would be well enough to do this without their constant support and guidance.
But for now, I was immensely grateful for my men.
Hope began to cry in her pack n’ play, and I quickly got up, moving over to her. Her pretty little face was scrunched up, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. I quickly lifted her up, my heart pounding hard in my chest as I lightly bounced her around the room.
Lincoln was at work, and Jessie was outside changing the oil in his car. He had just put Hope down for her nap about thirty minutes ago, and he’d thought he had enough time to do what he needed to do before she woke up again, but Hope definitely had other plans.
She whimpered, her wails only getting louder. “Okay, okay,” I whispered as I moved toward the kitchen. I knew she could sense my distress, and I was doing my best to remain calm for her.
