Distanced

Part 25: In Which Helen Struggles With Everything

I did it again.

I upset him.

I was just mortified.

First with my breast just blasting him with milk because Luna cried- I was embarrassed.

Then he was kissing and touching my stomach- which is still slowly losing its baby space.

I just...huh...I just feel ugly- it's one thing if I was still pregnant- it wouldn't have been weird or uncomfortable.

But it's flabby and jiggly and just a waste of skin. It will probably never go back to looking flat and normal and tone. The stretch marks have taken over and will never leave.

I just feel unattractive and I just didn't want him touching me and acting like he's into...this.

But that only made him upset.

It's not that I think Max is shallow. I just...I just don't feel attractive.

***

Getting up, I force myself to move. It's hard to hear if Maxie is crying or not so I've been getting up every two hours to feed and change him. He doesn't reject my breasts so I guess he's hungry.

It is a frustrating challenge though- getting him up safely with one good arm and a dislocated one. Changing him is also a challenge. I guess I didn't really realize that because I've had Max for the last two weeks.

I'd still have him if I didn't upset him.

Looking at the clock, it's already 7:45 and I can't help but feel upset.

Max is back at work and I'm not- our routine is messed up. I'm messed up and I don't know what to do.

I'm too ashamed and embarrassed to call or text him.

How would that look.

Me making him feel shitty because of my own insecurities and then calling him because I need his help.

Makes me feel like I'd be using him.

"Hi, Maxie. How's Mummy's favorite boy?"

"Eee..." He quietly speaks and kicks his legs and waves his arms.

"Oh, honey- let's get you changed." Reaching down, I more or less try to slide my arm underneath him and cradle him like a football to my chest. Walking over to the changing table, I lay him down and start to unbutton his foot pajamas. "No kicking, Baby Boy- Mummy is trying her best."

I try to pull his arm out of his sleeve with one hand, but he just keeps moving.

"Still, Maxie." I say and continue to try. "Maxie, please- baby."

I can't get it off- not with one hand.

I continue to struggle with this for at least 20 minutes.

I would take my sling off if my arm wasn't in excruciating pain.

It sears deep into my shoulder blade.

"Please...just let me get it off..." It's becoming more and more frustrating. He won't stop wiggling. I can't pull the sleeve off nicely and he keeps kicking my breasts and they're sore.

My phone starts going off and I can't focus on anything.

"Dammit!" I yell quietly and as I look down, Maxie starts quivering his little bottle lip. "No...no...Maxie- don't cry baby. Don't cry- Mummy didn't mean to scare you."

As he quietly cries- for the first time ever- I feel my breasts leaking against my night gown.

"Shh...it's alright...it's alright..."I begin to cry and I don't know what to do. I lean forward and kiss his tummy and cheeks, but he just keeps crying. "Please, Maxie...please..."