They say babies can pick up on how their mothers are feeling and it somehow affects their behaviour. Before having Kayla I was sceptical about this. It’s not as though babies are born with some kind of sixth sense, are they? Yet now I know there’s truth to this.
Nothing I do soothes Kayla, yet the second she’s in Aiden’s arms all the tension in her tiny body releases itself and she’s suddenly at peace. The second she feels herself in his arms. I don’t resent her or Aiden for this; it’s just one thing to add to the long list of reasons why I shouldn’t be a mother.
‘It’s because you’re always with her, and I’m a novelty,’ Aiden says, and I wonder how he can’t see what’s staring him directly in the face.
Today she’s been whining all morning, so I decide I’ll take her to the park. It’s on a main road, meaning the roar of the traffic might drown out her cries. Anything is better than sitting in this house waiting for the walls to crush me.
Miraculously, Kayla falls asleep before we arrive at the park, so I grab a takeaway cup of tea from the coffee shop and sit on a bench, pushing Kayla’s pram backwards and forwards in the hopes of keeping her asleep.
An elderly lady walks over and joins me, smiling down at my sleeping baby.
‘Just beautiful,’ she says.
Out of politeness I nod, keeping inside the words I really want to say; words that would shock anyone listening and prove once and for all that she should be taken away from me.
The lady turns to me. ‘You look exhausted, dear. I hope you’re taking care of yourself too. It’s all well and good people fussing over new babies but who takes the time to ask the mothers how they’re doing?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly how I feel.’
She smiles. ‘You do everything for that little one, don’t you, with barely any acknowledgement? Hardest job in the world, I say. Well, you’re doing a grand job. Just look at her. Not a care in the world.’
I want to reach for this lady – this stranger – and wrap my arms around her. Since giving birth to Kayla she might be the first person who’s actually considered me. Aiden, of course, is doing his best, but he’s so consumed with Kayla that I don’t think he’s had any room in his mind to fit me in, just as I haven’t with him.
‘So how many children do you have?’ I ask, wondering whether someone who understands so much could ever face having a second child.
‘Me? Oh, no, dear. I made the decision long ago not to have any, and to this day it’s been the best choice I’ve ever made.’ She smiles.
I’m so stunned by her declaration, and the force with which she delivers it, that I can’t find any words to offer a reply.
‘Anyway, I’ll be going now. I only sat down to rest my legs for a minute before I get to the supermarket. You take care now.’
Watching her walk away, I feel even worse than I did before I spoke to her. But why? She didn’t say anything to insult me, and even if she didn’t want children, she still understood that a mother needs care too.
Screams of joy erupt from the playground, and I turn to watch a young mum with her two children. They’re probably around two and four, and she seems to be managing both of them with ease, negotiating both of their different needs while remaining calm. She’s another Sophie: strong and capable. I try to tell myself this will get easier – and maybe one day I’ll be like Sophie and the mum I’m watching now – but then I look down at my tiny baby and she seems a lifetime away from the children in the playground.
It shouldn’t surprise me when I glance at Kayla and find her staring at me. ‘Well, that nap was all of five minutes,’ I say.
On the bench next to me, I notice a chocolate wrapper. ‘I need to put this in the bin over there,’ I tell Kayla. ‘Just stay here for a minute.’
The bin is near the entrance to the park, and I head over to it.
And then I keep walking past it, not once glancing back.