Parenthood

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Three Weeks Later
July 2nd; 2024
Taylor Swift's Point of View
No. No, dear god no. Come on. I just want to sleep. Viola is crying hysterically in the bedside sleeper which instantly wakes up both Travis and I. I put my hands over my face and start internally screaming. This is too hard. I can't do it. I hear Travis groan as he stirs in bed. God, this is awful. This is pure misery. I'm in so much physical and mental pain. My postpartum belly is still killing me and I'm convinced I'm never going to stop bleeding. It hurts to function as a human being. The first week I rested in bed to recover from pushing a baby out of a hole the size of a bagel. Now, Travis and I both do our job of taking care of her. I ruined bagels for you now, didn't I? I grumble as I try to get the energy to get out of bed but it's not working.

"I can't do it. My...parts hurt too much." I complain to Travis. Truthfully I'm too ungodly tired but my vagina does also hurt. I was living off of ice packs for the first couple of weeks.

"Okay, I'll do it." Travis gets out of bed and I throw I pillow on my face, trying to cover the noise. The cries don't fade but instead get louder. I remove the pillow from my face and look up. I see Travis holding Viola next to me whose face is completely red and dripping with tears.

"I thought you were taking care of it." My eyes are only 20% open right now.

"She's hungry and my nipples are of no use to her." Travis sighs.

I grab a pillow and sit against the headboard. I remove my pajama top since I'm too tired to deal with it. "Give her." I bring Viola to my chest, supporting her neck and back. The most infuriating thing happens. She continues to cry as she refuses to latch. "Come on Vi, work with me here." I adjust to a different position but it doesn't work. Frustrations started to build up with sleep deprivation catching up to me. "I don't understand. What do you want from me?"

"Taylor, honey. Take a breather." Travis rubs my back softly but I can't think properly.

"I'm going to the nursery." When I tell you I tried every little thing in the book, I tried everything. I opened them back up. I went on Google, I called Kylie, I called Brittney. Hell, I called my mom. I knew she had to be hungry. She hasn't been fed in hours now but she refused to eat.

This is when I finally understood it. Day 20 of being a mother. It was 3:49 a.m. and Vi had been crying inconsolably for over an hour. I was losing my grip on reality. I couldn't take it anymore. I stopped trying to fix the problem and looked down at Viola. "I'm so sorry." I started to cry with her in my arms. I was in some sort of meltdown and had no idea what to do. I couldn't fix it. I got out my phone and called Kylie again. She picked up and before she could even say a word I started to go off.

"Kylie, I can't do this! I can't be a mother! My baby hates me and I hate doing this. She won't stop crying and now I'm crying. Mothers aren't supposed to cry like this. Something is wrong with me!" I wail as more tears pour from my face.

"Taylor," Kylie says but I ignore her.

"I'm miserable. I want to sleep but she keeps waking up every five seconds to cry! I just want to go back to when-" I try to finish but Kylie interrupts me.

"Taylor."

"What's happening to me? Why is this so hard for me? I have over a dozen Grammys. That stuff is hard. I feel like this stuff should be easy."

"Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, shhhhhh. Listen to me. Are you still holding Viola?"

"Yes."

"I need you to listen to me very carefully. Put Viola in her crib in the nursery."

"But she usually stays in the bedside sleeper."

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