to take a short nap before she'd have to wake again to feed the baby. The relief of having experienced help lulled Rachel into accepting the offer. Her oldest sister, Sarah, helped her navigate the steps, and Rachel fell into the unmade king-sized bed too tired to even worry about where her husband might be.
Rachel
"Rachel, he's crying. Wake up, baby."
Michael's shrill cry broke through Rachel's weary slumber. It was his I'm hungry cry. In the three weeks since he'd been born, she'd started to sort out his I'm wet cry from his I'm hungry. The easiest to figure out was his I want attention cry. That one was half-hearted, and always stopped the second she peeked into the bassinet beside their bed.
She glanced at the clock. Three-thirteen. She'd managed almost four hours of sleep since he last woke her.
I'd give anything for a full night's sleep.
Rachel threw the covers back, trying not to get angry at her grunting husband, who rolled over, settling in to go back to sleep.
Motherhood was sure turning out to be different than she'd thought it would be. Derek had been so excited about the baby before he was born, yet he had barely bonded with their newborn son, and it worried Rachel.
As she let Michael latch on to her left nipple she snuggled him close. Her heart expanded with love as she rocked her young son as he took nourishment from her body. She never tired of the miracle.
Derek's voice broke the quiet, startling her. She thought he had gone back to sleep. "I never get tired of watching you rocking him," he said.
It was hard to see his eyes in the dimly lit room, but she heard a melancholy tone in his voice. She hated the wedge that had been shoved between them in the weeks since the baby was born. It wasn't unlike how she'd felt several months ago. She had gone to The Punishment Pit to confront her Daddy the last time. The problem was that tonight she didn't have the first clue how to go about recovering their intimacy. So much had changed in their marriage; she hated feeling as though they were strangers in their own house.
"I never get tired of rocking him, either. It's a miracle when you think about it."
"I do think about it. All the time." His words hung in the air, a heavy blanket of dread in the quiet, pre-dawn hour. She wasn't sure if she wanted to pry open the closed door between them, she was afraid of what she might find when it opened.
Be brave, Rachel.
"I could start pumping, you know. That way you could feed him, too," she offered.
"Nah, I'd screw it up. He needs his mommy."
She took a deep breath before plunging forward. "What if I need my Daddy?"
Damn, she wished she could see his eyes. "No, you don't. You're a great mom, Rachel. I'm so proud of you. I was... " His voice trailed off before he finished, quietly, "I was worried you might not be able to handle the stress, but you're doing everything perfectly."
His words of praise were precious to her, yet there was something deeper, almost sinister, in the compliment.
"Thanks, but you're his father. I want to share this with you, but you don't seem to even want to try."
The edgy tone in his voice barely disguised his anger. "How can I? Between your parents, sisters and nieces, I can barely get close enough to see him, let alone hold him."
Rachel fought the urge to defend her family. They did what they did out of love. Still, as she thought back over the three weeks since they'd brought Michael home from the hospital, she had to acknowledge that not one single day had gone by when at least one of her family members hadn't stopped by to help for several hours.
In the beginning, the normally confident Dom had stood by awkwardly, trying to help take care of his family, but only now did Rachel realize he'd started spending more and more time back at work, leaving her to care for their son with her family as her primary help.
As she listened to her husband's soft snores, indicating he'd succumbed to sleep once more, Rachel reflected—until she knew what she needed to do.
I want my Daddy back. All of him.
Rachel didn't have to wait long to put her new plan into action. She was at the kitchen island eating a bowl of cereal when Derek came in, dressed, ready