I sat in front of the cradle holding my baby, but inside I felt nothing. Born at the end of the old year, her birth should be a sign, a celebration. Months of carrying her, of talking and encouraging her in the womb left me barren, no more words for her, no song, not even my hymn.
The birth pains were as hard as the rest, but this time I knew I’d die.
Didn’t know if that would be a bad thing.
Lizzy and Charlotte could take my place. Charlotte had become an exceptional businesswoman.
I tugged at my empty breasts. Again the milk hadn’t come in right. Mamaí hired out for my babe.
I was an utter failure. A bad sow. My hungry baby, Eliza, suckled, clamped on good to my breast, and I could give her nothing.
My mama came into my room. She had a tray, probably more stew.
How can you eat when you can’t feed your own child?
“Dolly, feeling better? The birthing fever just broke.” She peeked at my little girl. “Eliza is a beautiful little girl. She sleeps good. Look at that head full of hair.”
I nodded and crawled back into the bedsheets.
“I’m going to take Eliza to my room, Dolly. You hear me? I want to make sure she’s safe.”
I knew what she was saying, but she should know I’d hurt myself before my babe. I closed my eyes, nodding like a fool.
It was dark when I opened my eyes again.
But I wasn’t alone.
“Thomas?”
“No. Me, Kitty.”
She lit a candle.
Her face seemed older. Wide topaz eyes were inches from me. She looked scared. I hadn’t seen her like this in a long time.
Yet I hadn’t been this scared, frightened of living, since the rebellions.
“You need to get up. You need to go check on your baby.”
“Can’t you see about her, Kitty?”
“I have, Dolly.”
“You should be her mother, Kitty. You can be good to her.”
“Dolly, you don’t mean that. But who couldn’t be good to Eliza? She’s perfect. The fattest little cheeks ever.”
The birthing sadness had me. I couldn’t get out of this hole. I was trapped in the cobbled well in the square.
Kitty pulled me into her arms.
I cried. She cried.
“Sis, watch over Eliza as if she’s yours. You protected Lizzy long ago. Do that again for Eliza.”
“Dolly, don’t die on us. You have to eat. You have to get out of this bed. Mamaí is sad for you. She wants to send for Thomas.”
“No.”
“He always makes you laugh. He’ll be happy to see this baby.”
He’ll look at me and my lows and steal her away like Cells. This time, I wouldn’t blame him. “I’m no good for anyone.”
She took the old rosary from my bed table and slipped it in my palm. “You’re too hard on you. You always have been too hard.”
“Someone should be.” I rolled the beads between my fingers. I clutched these during the birth pains to focus, to pray.
“A little food. You need to eat. Drink water?”
No one could understand the darkness that kept calling. If I were quiet, maybe it would slip away. “Just need some time.”
“We need you. Your Charlotte needs you.”
“What’s wrong with Charlotte?”
“At church, she caught the eye of a Fédon.”
“The brothers from Grenada? They own a big plantation and transport goods to and from here and Trinidad? Those planters?”
“The same. She likes him, Dolly.”
My little girl was in love?
“She needs her mama to help her like you helped Lizzy.”
Coxall was all Lizzy’s doing, but I did protect her.
My sister jumped into my bed and began brushing dust from my braids. “I’ll wash and oil this straw and get you good as new. Maybe Polk can come back and take us to church again. I like Polk.”
Kitty probably wasn’t talking about Notre Dame du Bon Port. She wanted to go dancing at the mulatto ball. I chuckled at the notion and how it felt cleansing. “My swallow. You bless me, Kitty.”
I held on to my sister. Her heartbeat, it was normal and right and true.
I prayed I’d come to myself.
For my family needed me, like I needed them, too.