Weston and his family too. To watch over all of us.
As I leave the Church, surrounded by strangers whose lives I imagine are so much simpler than mine, I fall into soft sobs. No one notices. And I’m glad. Because I certainly don’t deserve anyone’s consolation.
Gwen takes us out to eat and entertains the girls. She brings popcorn and old John Hughes movies — The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink — Molly Ringwalds’ pouty lips are really starting to wear on me. Gwen has all but given up her life to be there for me, and I’m not quite sure what I would do without her.
I try to keep on living, going through the motions every day, putting food on the table, forcing myself to eat, keeping the house in order, and playing with the girls as much as I can.
When Gabe first comes for the girls, I let Gwen take care of it and go hide somewhere. I just can’t see him. I can’t see his beautiful face and not long to touch it.
Thankfully, the girls have adjusted well. They’re busy with summer and their friends. Chloe is immersed in a series of books about warrior angels — she hasn’t had a chance to miss her daddy too much.
They seem to only ask about him when I tuck them in at night. I think they miss their little ritual (the plane crash bit he does every night). He grabs them and drags them through the air and finally drops them on the bed and makes big crashing noises. They giggle and he wraps them in their cozy blankets, and kisses them on the forehead. I don’t even try to replicate the ritual. It just wouldn’t be the same and I’d probably break my back.
There’s a piece of me missing, a huge void not having him every day in my life. I miss his teasing winks, the funny conversations, the playfulness, the sex. I miss it all. I miss him so much.
Although Weston has told me he would be staying away, he sends me an email, and somehow, it brightens my day. He is very formal in his communications, but I suppose he’s trying to keep an acceptable distance.
Hello Mirella,
I hope you are keeping well. I know you tend to not eat when you are nervous or upset. And as you know, this is not the time for this kind of behavior. I would like to ensure you do the following:
Eat a least three healthy meals a day consisting of the four food groups.
Take a prenatal vitamin every day.
See obstetrician regularly.
Limit intake of sugar. There is an increased risk of gestational diabetes in older women. (oh no… he didn’t)
Keep an eye on your blood pressure (this should be noted at your regular physician appointments).
Get a minimum of eight hours sleep every night.
Avoid stress as much as you can (can elevate blood pressure).
Avoid sushi, raw fish, tuna, deli meats, alcohol, or too much caffeine.
Ensure you get an adequate amount of iron in your diet.
Also, take a prenatal yoga class if you can. It is apparently good for relaxation and blood pressure.
* * *
Is he for real?
I almost laugh out loud when I read the email. I can’t believe this guy. I don’t dare show it to Gwen, who already thinks he’s an uptight oddball. I suppose I should be touched. He obviously cares about the baby’s health. But I can’t help but be mildly irritated, but this could very well have a little something to do with the pregnancy hormones.
* * *
Dear Weston,
Thank you for the very informative email. You will be happy to hear it’s a check on all bullet points. And also, it should be noted that I am aware that alcohol and pregnancy don’t mix… I haven’t been living under a rock. But I’m pretty sure the line of coke I do every morning is cool. : )
P.S. Why don’t you take a yoga class — you obviously need it more than I do.
* * *
Dear Mirella,
I can see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.
I also wanted to suggest you stop wearing underwire bras — they can apparently restrict the milk flow from the milk glands.
* * *
Dear Weston,
At this point, I don’t believe my breasts are producing milk. And besides, my new boyfriend thinks underwire bras are very sexy.
I can’t believe I’m flirting with him. But I feel like being playful, just for a minute. But if I know Weston, he will not play