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I’ve already told you how much I despise being ignored. I would much rather be hated than tossed aside and abandoned. That’s why I felt a little thrill of victory when I finally managed to make Jake angry. I was acting like a witch. I’ll be the first to admit it. But for weeks, I’d been trying to get some reaction out of that boy. Like when you’re a kid and you keep poking at the jellyfish in the aquarium because you just want to see it do something.
I’m sure if I had a psychologist or therapist they’d tell me how messed up that is. Tell me it’s immature try to make someone mad at you because you’re attention-starved and insanely hormonal.
They can take all their book learning and shove it down their throats. What do they know about me, anyway?
I got to the NICU that night, and there wasn’t much to do. Natalie was asleep. I usually held her at least once a day. It’s this skin-to-skin thing where you take off your shirt and wear a hospital gown and you put the baby right up against you in nothing but a diaper. Yeah, I was weirded out by the sound of it at first too, but I guess they’ve got all kinds of science to prove how effective it is at enhancing your kid’s health. Who knows? Maybe that’s why Natalie survived her NICU stay in the first place. I don’t know.
But I didn’t want to hold her that night. I’m not into New Agey mumbo jumbo kind of stuff, but I was fuming mad, and I was worried that somehow I could transfer all that negativity to my baby if I held her in that state of mind. Honestly, with me being so ticked off at Jake, I just didn’t feel very warm and squishy toward his daughter, know what I mean?
So there wasn’t much for me to do except wait around for the night shift to show up so I could hear the reports from the nurse. Maybe I was more upset about Jake taking off than I realized. All I knew was I was sick and tired of the NICU. Natalie had recovered from her surgery. She still couldn’t swallow, but that might never improve. I couldn’t see any reason for her to stay there. I’d watched the nurses taking care of the suctioning and tube feeds and was sure I could figure it out.
That’s what got me so upset about the whole thing with Jake. He could leave any time he wanted. But what was I supposed to do? It’s not like I could go back with him to Orchard Grove and mail Natalie my breastmilk from there. I was trapped. Four weeks of bedrest during the torture of a central Washington summer. After that Seattle for a month, and all this for a daughter who might never know or care who I am.
I don’t mean to sound like an ingrate, but come on. How much junk is one woman supposed to put up with?
Jake could up and quit any time he wanted. He could hide behind his stupid minimum-wage job as a lousy store clerk. Well, what about me? When would I get a break? When would I get to leave?
The whole Charlene thing was just a convenient focal point for my rage. What I hated most was the fact that he was free to walk away. Would I ever see him again? There’s no chance the Orchard Grove hospital could care for someone like Natalie. Would it even be safe for me to take her back there? Maybe I’d stay in Seattle. Except without Jake, that would mean I’d have to find a job, pay my own rent, foot all the bills. How was I supposed to do any of that when Natalie would need round-the-clock care?
Why is it always the mothers who get tethered to the kids and not the other way around? I earned more at the Winter Grove assisted living home than Jake made slaving for Roberto. Maybe I should go back to work at Winter Grove and let him stay home with Natalie. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about his path crossing with Charlene’s anymore.
Charlene. We were friends once, in a casual sort of way. She had a thing for Jake from the beginning, but seriously, I always assumed he was too much of a good guy to do anything other than a little harmless flirting.
Learn something new every day, right?
I know I shouldn’t be so self-righteous about it all. Jake doesn’t know the half of what I’ve done.
Thank God.