Heir to the Khalil Throne✔️

22: Misery

Handsome with his father's nose and ears, Darian was a carbon copy of him. The Khalils adored him, his mother promising to spoil him rotten while his father was admiring with his eyes barely saying a word.

The siblings tried to name him, not knowing that we already decided on a name but it was sweet, they all seemed excited to have a new member of the family.

He had to stay in the PICU for a few days as he was a bit premature being born at thirty-seven weeks but after four days, we could go home, he was healthy and my heart finally took a beat knowing that I do not have to stay here any longer and that my baby was healthy.

All I wanted to do was sleep, thankfully Darius and my mother did nearly everything besides breastfeeding, I do pump which helps so they do not wake me as often for feedings. Giving birth exhausted me and if it were not for my mother who I trust with my baby and Darius who is a responsible man, I would not be able to rest.

Am I a bad mother? I do not think so but are mothers not supposed to feel attached to their babies? Are they not supposed to always want to be near their babies?

I love the little guy, dearly but every time he cries for me, I want to jump off a cliff and the weirdest thing is he barely even notices my annoyance because when he is in my arms, he keeps calms down for a second and then starts crying to be feed which infuriates me.

Who knew babies were this annoying? Not me because I thought I could do this, I thought I was equipped but if Darian was not my child, I would let him cry until he stopped.

She is watching TV while he is on a baby pillow next to her, he looks asleep but you never really know with newborns, they sleep all day like they are depressed and barely like opening their eyes.

"Are you going to sit with us today?"

"Yeah, first I would like to make something to eat."

"Darius made some food for you. It is in the fridge." warming the food up, I regret telling her that I would stay with them because I am not feeling it today, like most days since we came back from the hospital.

After eating in the dining room, I head into the living room and sit beside her, laying my head on her shoulder.

"I do not want to do this."

"Well, you have to."

"Deadbeat moms are a thing."

"I will slap you." not a threat, that is a promise

"I am only joking."

"You are not funny. You should learn how to take care of him."

"I will in due time. You still have five months here."

"Three, I have to go back and tend to your father as well."

"But I need you more." whining to my mother is one gift, I will always be grateful for

"eh, tough." laughter erupts from me "If you wake him, you will nurse him." now that is a threat.

My mother insisted that she teach me how to take care of Darian. She already taught me how to breastfeed and burp him. How to wash him and how to put him to sleep.

"Open it."

"Mama, I can't,"

"Boka, change that baby's diaper." firm and ignites fear in me but not enough that I want to change the diaper "Who is going to change that baby's diaper when I am gone?"

"We will hire someone." is something wrong with me? I should be able to change my baby's dirty diaper but when I see the poop, I start gagging which I think will lead to me hurting poor Darian so I should leave it.

"Okay."

"You think I am a bad mom."

"No, I think you are different and that is okay, come on, let me get him clean." she looks so at ease changing the diaper, I guess that is why she has three children.

"Look, I have to do a bit of work but I will come back and bond with the two of you." she nods allowing me to get away from the stench of baby poop.

My laptop is fingerprint protected so I am not worried about anyone in this house opening it so I leave it on the desk but I need to get a safe for my office which is not done yet, I still have to design and furnish it.

The person I am tasked to find is a French arms dealer who has been on every intelligence agency's wanted list for decades, no one can catch the guy but SSA has hope that I can.

I have been working on this for two weeks. Two days after he was born, I was bored and curious so I started building the case the more I heard, the more I wanted and now I am invested in catching the person.

What I have gathered is before he turned to a life of crime, he worked for French intelligence and helped carry out multiple genocides in West and Central Africa, so I have to make sure nothing, absolutely nothing leads back to me.

Darius' family is coming to see the baby again and we are having dinner where they will hound me to let them take care of Darian while I am learning to trust them, I am unable to let him out of my sight or my mother's.

"Knock knock," she says walking into the room with him in her hands. I shut the computer and face her "I need you to watch him while I prepare for his family to come." a nod before she hands him over

"Cutie pie of mine." she closes the door and heads to the kitchen "You want to help mommy catch a war criminal?" he coos "Yeah, let's do that." when he is not crying, he is actually delightful.

That did not last long, placing the laptop away, I give the attention whore my full attention span. Wiggling his butt in the air, he calms down allowing me to get the baby fragrance that I pour onto my shirt to hide the smell of breastmilk.

We head downstairs and my mother is cooking. She is great at it and thankfully all I have to do is take care of my sleeping baby. Like his father, he goes to sleep fast, which I enjoy, he sleeps through the night which helps because I will not wake up for a little terrorist.

Why do I feel like I am a bad mom?

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Total Chapter Word Count: 1118words❤️

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Who thinks it is pregnancy blues (goes away by itself)? Who thinks she has Postpartum depression? Who thinks it is just her regular depression?

Who did not know she has depression?