It's Never Just Goodbye // Ed Sheeran

He's Moved On

 Alice 

  -2 months old-

I had finally moved out of my mother’s house. Leaving her all by herself – Adam at UNI, engaged, and my father wherever the hell he was. She had joked numerous times that she’d rather move into a small flat when I finally decided to move out. Now, I understand why.

The baby – Finley Christopher – had just hit his first month when I packed everything into boxes. Most of it being the baby’s clothes or toys, along with his crib.

I boxed up some of my clothes, a couple outfits I still wore and numerous pairs of sweats. Deciding that everything I used to love – old books, photographs, and my stereo could stay put for a while.

While Oscar’s apartment was cramped, not much bigger than the upstairs of mum’s house, we made it work. Only a day it took to move the boxes over to his place. He’d hand me a box and I’d set it in the lift, while my mother watched Finley upstairs.

We both unpacked that night. Folding the baby’s clothes and unpacking his toys. My mum held him while saying, “Finley, oh baby. What a crazy name your mother gave you. Finley.”

She still was in awe over being a grandmother. Holding him close. A smile bigger than any grin I’ve ever seen her make. Honestly, I felt like she loved him more than she loved me.

“He’s got your nose.” She said, smiling. “And he’s got freckles like you!”

I sat in the rocking chair, placed in the corner of our room, with the baby in my arms. It was strange, I guess, seeing myself as a mum. It was weird knowing that he was a part of me. Something I held in my stomach for nine months.

No one ever told me that being a mother was so exhausting. Once you become a mom, you find out all these things about babies that nobody dared to tell you when you were pregnant. And, no one decided to tell me that everything your life consisted of before he came along was sure to be gone for the first few months.

Homework? The hardest thing possible. I ended up dropping two of my classes just to be with him. The remaining class online. Sleeping? Not going to happen. Going out for a drink? Never. Not even in your dreams.

Now, Friday nights involve Oscar and I trying to keep Finley from crying, eating dinner with only one hand and holding the bottle in the other, as we hand him back and forth. If we set him down for more than a minute, the tears come back.

And not just for Finley, either. I’ve cried more than enough out of frustration and being overly tired. Oscar – the gift from God – just takes him from me and tells me to go lie down.

Being a mum has made me so tired. But so darn happy.

While the countless number of baby magazines refuse to tell you the things that scare you away from motherhood, they also forget to include how much of a blessing it is.

He’s saved my life. I’m sure of it.

I could’ve returned to my old life – drinking a ton and smoking a pack of cigarettes a day. Being a total reck. Yet, when I look into his big, green eyes, I know that it’s not worth it. Getting drunk wouldn’t give me the kind of buzz that my baby gives to me every time he’s in my arms.

I don’t think about Ed too much anymore. The baby obviously takes up every moment of my day, but I take that as a good thing, too. Every so often, I’ll focus on Finley’s wisps of ginger hair and think of who gave him that trait, but the thought fades soon after.

“Do you want me to take him?” Oscar asks and I look up. Finley’s eyes were rolling back as he sipped on the formula. Almost asleep. I shook my head, but Oscar insisted. “You have to eat, babe.”