Admittedly, the maternity leave hadn’t helped with her circadian rhythm. Much like her residency, she was woken at all times of night and day to deal with emergencies. In this case, the emergency of her daughter believing she might die any second from starvation or loneliness. And the shift never ended and went on and on for a month.
When her boss had called to ask her to cut the leave short because they were short staffed, she’d been delighted. Getting out of the house and leaving Ella’s care in professional hands for the day seemed like the perfect remedy for her exhaustion. In the last years, working as an attending had more fueled than drained her energy levels despite the long hours.
Only she wasn’t ready. No professional help was in sight. The hospital daycare had changed their policy last month without warning and didn’t accept kids younger than one year anymore. The only halfway acceptable daycare out of the dozen she’d visited in the city didn’t have a free spot on short notice, no matter how much she offered to pay. If her mother hadn’t offered to step in, she wouldn’t be able to go to work. And that was the tip of the iceberg. She hadn’t lost her weight. She hadn’t read any of the articles she’d saved for her leave. She hadn’t even managed the simple task of getting a haircut.
Jess picked up the penguin and set it on the kitchen counter next to her half-empty cup of coffee. She took a sip and winced. Tepid and bitter, it didn’t help to calm her churning stomach. She hadn’t felt so unprepared for her day since her first week of college.
Stroking the soft fur of the penguin, she went through her mental checklist. Milk. Check. Stuffed animal. Check. Baby’s bag with diapers, wipes, and change of clothes. Check. Mom’s bag with keycard, money, phone, and the latest edition of Journal of Cardiology in case she was awake enough to read more than two lines. Check. What was missing? Just go. You’re running late already. Stop with your stupid lists.
At the elevator, the vague feeling of having lost something remained. What was missing?
When the doors opened with a ping, she entered and pressed the button for the parking deck.
Ella.
Jess jumped out through the closing doors and narrowly missed being squashed by the metal. Fuck, how can you forget your own child?
It took three attempts to enter the code to her condo. Her racing heart wouldn’t slow down even when she’d reached the sleeping baby. She was dizzy with relief that Ella hadn’t noticed her absence.
With shaking hands, Jess lifted her daughter from the cradle and held her close for a minute. The scent of freshness and innocence washed over her and calmed her nerves like magic, better than any checklist ever could.
Loaded with both bags and the baby carrier, she resumed her journey to the car. Even when she had stowed everyone and everything safely in her BMW X5 and was on her way to her mom’s house, her heart rate was still elevated.
Ella cooed in that adorable way to signal she was awake.
Jess glanced in the mirror but couldn’t see her daughter’s expression. The thirty-minute drive to Shoreline passed in the blink of an eye, and Jess nearly missed her mom’s driveway because an ugly lump of junk—that might have qualified as a car fifteen or twenty years ago—was blocking most of the garage. Her mom’s tiny Prius might fit next to it, but there wasn’t enough space for her own SUV. She ran through a list of her mom’s friends, all of whom were either retired academics like her or old hippies or both. Neither group would drive such a piece of shit. Maybe someone was doing work at the house?
Not that it mattered. She parked on the street, not caring that she blocked the driveway. That thing didn’t look as if it was able to go far anyway.
Before she had again succeeded in juggling Ella, her bag, and the car keys, her mom appeared.
“Jess, let me help.” Her mom took the baby carrier and peered inside. “Oh, Ella, look at you. How you’ve grown. Aren’t you sweet?”
“Growing is all she’s doing for now.” Jess covered her mouth to hide a yawn. “But, yeah, she’s sweet.”
Her mom looked up and studied Jess until she squirmed. “Do you want to come inside? You look tired. Have some coffee? Breakfast? You can meet Lena.”
Who was Lena again? Jess looked at her watch and sighed. It wasn’t important. As much as she could have killed for another coffee, she needed to get going. Morning traffic was always difficult to predict. “I better head off now. Thank you so much for taking her on short notice. I’ll find a reliable babysitter or daycare soon.” Jess swallowed and looked down at her oversized sneakers that were the only shoes that fit her pregnancy-ridden feet.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have much fun, Ella and I. Won’t we?” With the last words, she stuck her head into the carrier and said something in that tone reserved for babies and kittens. Or, in her mom’s case, more often than not, for rare plants. “Will you stay for dinner?” she added in her regular voice.
“I don’t know yet. Let’s see how the day goes, okay?” Jess wasn’t looking forward to driving to her mom’s again in the evening when all she wanted to do was sleep. But she wouldn’t have gotten so far in her career with a habit of admitting weakness, not even to the person who should know her best.
“Sure. Say goodbye to Mommy.” Her mom talked to Ella as if she expected her to do just that.
Ridiculous but cute. “Bye.” Jess smiled and waved as she entered her car. No need to cuddle her daughter after she’d spent four weeks nonstop in her company. She should be happy to have some adult time, so why did her instincts make
