42. Natalya

Three Months Later

The nursery is dark as I rock back and forth. Nadia feeds at my breast as I hum her a song. IT’s something I’ve been working on lately, a little lullaby for my baby girl. She seems to like it and snuggles in as she eats.

I’m exhausted. God, I’m so tired. Everyone says infants are tough, but it’s one thing to hear it and another to be deep in the shit. All I want is eight uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Although it’s partially my fault. Alex says we can get a night nurse, but I’m just not ready. Soon, when Nadia’s a little bit bigger and we find someone we trust, I think that’ll be okay. For right now though, I want to enjoy this.

“I hope you’re strong like your father one day,” I whisper to her as she shuffles slightly, loses her latch briefly, and then finds it again. “I hope you like music like me. But mostly I want you to be happy.”

Talking to her helps keep some of the darkness at bay. I can’t pretend like it isn’t there. I haven’t felt it since Paris, but now there are creeps of it, pushing in at the edges. Not that deep, crushing loneliness, but an anxiety, a worry, a black spot in the middle of my soul threatening to expand and overwhelm me.

The only thing that keeps me grounded is knowing Alex is right outside this door, and he’s on his way.

Every time it gets too much, he’s there. Diapers, feedings, naps, stroller walks, whatever, he’s there. That man inhaled baby books and he’s like a walking encyclopedia for anything that could possibly go wrong. He’s calm, competent, and he knows what he’s doing. If I’m about to panic, I can turn to him and I know he’ll make everything alright again.

The door creaks open. Alex steps through, carrying the bottle he prepared. I smile at him and he bends down to kiss me gently.

“How is she?” he whispers.

“Still hungry.”

“Good. Let me take over.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m already here.” He shakes the bottle. “And I’m ready.”

“She won’t be happy.”

“That’s our problem, not yours.”

I bite my lip, but slowly get to my feet with his held. We transfer Nadia over to him, and sure enough, she’s pretty pissed. But Alex settles in the chair and starts doing his thing.

“Go on, go to sleep.” He smiles up at me. “I got this.”

I kiss him again and head to the door. When I look back, he’s got the bottle in Nadia’s mouth and she’s latched on and drinking. I smile at the scene—my big, scary mafia husband, holding his little baby girl in his arms and feeding her in the middle of the night so his wife can get some sleep.

I think about staying. I could sit next to him and we could talk a little bit.

It’s hard dragging myself away from my little girl.

But nah—that’s dumb.

I head into bed, wrap myself in blankets, and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another good day.