Chapter 29

As it was a fairly straightforward birth, Donna was allowed home after a couple of days.  They had already decided on names before the birth – they had chosen David for a boy, the main reason was that it meant ‘beloved’, which they both thought was very appropriate.

As they began the drive home, with their precious new bundle in his car seat in the back, Jon thought Donna looked rather tired – there were dark circles under her eyes, and she fought to keep herself awake.

“I’m sorry, love!” she said, giving him a weak smile  “I’ll try not to fall asleep on you!”

“What on earth are you apologising for?  You’ve just given birth – it’s hardly surprising you’re tired!  I’ll make you a nice cup of tea when we get home, then you can have a nice long sleep.  How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful!” she said, leaning back on the headrest  “but I can’t see it happening!”

Donna’s parents were looking after the girls, and they could not wait to welcome the new baby home.  They pulled up on to the drive, and Jon helped Donna out of the car, then reached into the back for the baby.  Donna put her arm through his, as they walked into the house.  As they entered the living room, her mother stepped forward and took the baby, gently cradling him in her arms.  Instinctively, she began to rock him to and fro, humming softly.  As she sat down on the sofa, Rosie and Clare sat down either side of her, gently touching him, and saying how soft he felt.  Emily wheeled her chair right next to the sofa, and reached out to touch him, but she could not quite manage it. On seeing her disappointed face, her nanny got up and went over to her.

“Would you like to hold him, sweetheart?” she said, smiling fondly at her.

“Can I?”   Emily eyes opened wide with wonder and expectation.

”Of course you can – he’s your little brother!  Here – be careful with his head!”

“I’ll be careful with all of him, nanny!” said Emily, causing her nanny to smile  “Do you think he looks like daddy?”

“Hope not – poor little sod!” said Jon, poking his head around the door  “Does anyone want a cup of tea?”

“Oh, don’t say that, love!” said Donna, from the depths of an armchair  “If he turns out to be as gorgeous as his daddy, he’ll be beating the girls off with a stick!”

“Stop it, you’re making me blush!” he joked, disappearing back into the kitchen.

As he stood there waiting for the kettle to boil, he began to think just how tired Donna was looking.  That, in itself, was understandable, but she also seemed a little pensive.  She seemed happy enough, but there was something he could not quite put his finger on.  Still, it had only been a couple of days since she had given birth, and her hormones were still raging – with any luck she would be back to her old self soon, when she got into a routine.  He placed the tray of tea on the table, and sat down on the sofa, with the sleeping baby in his arms.  As he gazed at him, he thought how much he resembled his mother, with his soft dark downy hair – well, if you could call it hair, there was hardly any of it!  Rosie and Clare had had lots of hair when they were born, and they had both looked like their father at birth, but little David was completely the opposite.

“When you’re old enough, I’ll take you fishing!” he said, softly, so as not to wake him.

“Fishing’s boring!” announced Emily, disdainfully  “who in their right mind would want to sit there for hours dangling their rod in the water?”

“There must be a clean answer to that!” said Donna, leaning her head on his shoulder “but I can’t think of one at the moment, so I’d best keep quiet!”

“I’m not telling you to keep quiet!” he said  “last time I did that you threatened to turn me into a eunuch!”

“What’s a eunuch, daddy?” said Rosie, her ears suddenly pricking up.

“Over to you, Jon!” retorted Donna, as he turned a very fetching shade of pink.

After finishing their tea, Donna’s parents decided to go, and, after lots of hugs and kisses all round they took their leave.  They had only left the house five minutes, when David began to stir.  Donna reached out for him, and attached him to her breast, sighing heavily.

“Do you want me to feed him?” said Jon, putting his arm around her shoulders  “You must be tired!”

“Could prove difficult!” said Donna, without a hint of a smile  “last time I looked you didn’t have any boobs!”

“Mummy!” said Emily, giggling uncontrollably

“I meant, I could make up a bottle or something!” he said, sounding a little annoyed “I’m only trying to help!”

“I know!” she said, putting her hand on his arm  “but I want to breastfeed if I can – I’ve been told it’s best!  I appreciate your offer, though!  If I can express some milk, I might well take you up on it!”

By the time the baby had taken his fill, Donna was almost asleep.  She put him on her shoulder to wind him, then held him in her arms, gazing fondly at him, tears beginning to roll down her face.

“What’s the matter, love?” said Jon, gently turning her face towards him  “Why the tears?”

“It’s nothing!  I’m just tired, that’s all!  Tired and happy – I’m not making much sense, am I?”

“Of course you are!  Come on, give him to me!  I’ll get him to sleep, you have a rest!”

“Sing to him, daddy!” said Emily, gently touching the baby’s face  “sing the first song I ever heard you sing!”

“Oh God, that was a long time ago!” he said “yes, I remember.  ‘You’ll remember me, when the west wind moves among the fields of barley….’”

They all sat there transfixed, as he held his tiny son close to his heart, and began to sing softly to him.  He felt his warm little body nestling against his, and watched as his head turned towards his chest, almost as though he were searching for something only Donna could give him.  He could not describe how he felt inside – he loved him so much he would lay down his life for him.  As the final notes died away, he noticed that both Donna and the baby were asleep.  He thought how vulnerable she looked, and his heart ached for her.  He did not remember her being like this when Rosie and Clare were born, and when Emily came along, she seemed to take it in her stride.  Still, it was early days yet – perhaps he was reading too much into it. He took the baby upstairs, and gently laid him in his Moses basket, switching on the baby monitor.

Later, as Donna had her hands full with David, he got the other three girls ready for bed.  She eventually managed to get him to sleep, and they both got into bed, grateful for the chance of at least a few hours sleep.  At around 2am, the silence was broken by a whimper from the side of the bed.  As it gradually grew louder, Donna turned over and forced her eyes open, but she did not get up straight away, she just wanted to go back to sleep again.  Eventually, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn’t, she climbed slowly out of bed, and lifted the baby out of his basket.  She sat down again, and pulled the covers over her.  Leaning back on the pillows, she unbuttoned her nightie, and attached him to her breast, wincing as he began to suck.  Where was the feeling of satisfaction and contentment that she had felt at first?  At the moment, she just felt tired, and looked forward to him finishing his feed – she felt guilty for even thinking it, and felt her eyes fill with tears.  When he had had enough, and his eyes eventually closed, she put him back in his basket, and pulled the covers over.  She got back into bed, and lay down, beginning to cry softly into her pillow.  She jumped as she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder – she did not even realise he was awake.

“Whatever’s the matter, Donna?” he said, gently kissing her cheek  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” she replied – she did not sound very convincing, and he picked up on it immediately.

“Are you sure?” he said, pushing her hair back from her face  “You weren’t crying for nothing!”

“I’m just tired, that’s all!” she snapped, pushing his hand away  “And you can forget that, too!”

“Do you really think that’s what I’m after?” he said, sounding hurt.  “I’m concerned about you, that’s all!”

“Very noble of you, I’m sure!” she said, turning her back on him  “now shut up and go to sleep, and let me do the same!”

He watched as her eyes gradually closed, then he lay awake for a long time thinking about her.  Despite her denials, he knew there was something wrong.   Before, she had seemed tired, but happy, but, this time, her heart just did not seem to be in it.

The next morning, he woke up to find the space beside him, and the Moses basket, empty.  He could hear loud cries from downstairs – they seemed to be getting more urgent by the second.  He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and got out of bed.  Throwing some clothes on, he went downstairs, to find Donna walking around the room, desperately trying to pacify her tiny son.  He was red in the face, and, picking up on his mother’s mood, he seemed to be getting angrier.

“What’s the matter with him?” he said, walking over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, which she furiously shook off.

“I don’t know!” she yelled, suddenly rounding on him “If you think you know everything – why don’t YOU sort him out?  Here, you take him, see if you can get him to shut up!”

“Please, Donna!” he said, feeling his eyes burning with tears  “What’s the matter with you?”

“Do you really want me to tell you?” she snapped, her eyes blazing, the only thing in her face that seemed alive.  “I’ve had enough!  Do you hear me?  I had just about had enough!”

“How can I help, Donna, if you won’t tell me how you feel?”

“I don’t feel anything!” she said, suddenly wilting in front of his eyes.  “I look at him, and I don’t feel anything – I don’t hate him, I just don’t feel anything! What’s happening to me, Jon?  Why can’t I love my own baby?”