Finding Purpose

Steps To Parenting

I'd been awake for most of the night, scrolling through page after page of parenting guides online, and running back and forth to Wyatt when he'd woken up. He clearly realised that something was different, and it was disturbing his sleeping pattern. With the help of his dummy that I'd found in the steriliser after dinner, I was able to sing him back to sleep the last time, before finally passing out myself, as the sky began to get brighter. I must have only been asleep for a couple of hours before the alarm went off and I leapt up to silence it before the sound could wake Wyatt. It was only half six, I'd never been up so early, and honestly, I already wasn't a fan. The sky remained too dark to qualify for morning as far as I was concerned, and there was a strong chill in the air, even with the central heating. As much as I wanted to go back to sleep, I knew that I only had a short while to get myself showered and dressed before he would wake up and I'd have to get the day going.

Once I was out of the shower, I rifled through my clothes until I found a comfy pair of black yoga pants, and a light grey, knitted, off the shoulder jumper. Slipping my warm ankle boots on, I went through to Wyatt's room, ready for him to wake up, so I could take him down for his bottle.

I crept into the nursery, Wyatt was clearly still fast asleep and I wasn't sure if I should wake him or wait. I approached the crib, peering over the side and watching the tiny little boy sleeping soundly, trying to recall everything that I'd read last night on whether or not to wake a sleeping baby. Finally, deciding to wait a little longer, I pulled out a clean nappy, and set out a fresh outfit. I'd read that organisation and routine was a must with a baby, so I was making the most out of every second that I could spare. I was just getting some socks, when a small cry began behind me.

"Hush now Wyatt, I'm right here." I said soothingly, walking to the crib and picking him up, lifting him into the air.

I bounced him lightly and sat him on my hip, walking to the changing table and laying him down on the mat. Remembering how Justin interacted with him as he changed his nappy, I tickled his tummy, watching his sleepy eyes brighten and sparkle with happiness and joy as he began to giggle. My heart still ached at the idea that every time he looked at me, he saw me as Reia, not understanding why I was so different, but looked the same. I pressed a light kiss to his soft little nose and reached for the tabs on the nappy, pulling them open and standing upright, preparing to open it. After the peeing incident, I was coming in prepared today. I'd read numerous tips on how to avoid getting peed on during the web surfing, I was incredibly glad to know that it wasn't just a sign of rejection from Wyatt, but today, I was going to try and block the tricky little minx from splashing me. Picking up the little washcloth that I'd brought in with me, I folded it and quickly slipped it down the front of his nappy, holding it in place, before slowly unfolding the nappy. I set about cleaning him up, plucking wet wipes from the packet with my free hand, whilst holding the cloth with the other. Once I'd done a thorough clean up, I removed the now damp cloth, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment at the small success. I finished cleaning him where the cloth had been against his skin, then applied his cream and secured a new, fresh nappy. After getting him dressed, I scooped him up, sitting him on my hip, and picking up his favourite teddy bear, then left the nursery.

When I got into the kitchen, I flicked on the tv, selecting a kids show, and popped him in his highchair by the counter, so that he could see it, yet still remain in my range of vision whilst I made up his bottle. I managed to make the formula up easily today, unlike yesterday where I nearly put it in the microwave under the presumption that it was like making hot milk.

Once Wyatt had finished his feed, I placed him on his play mat, stepping back to watch him reach and swipe at the little mobile toys over his head. I scurried back to the kitchen cupboard, pulling out a cereal bar, and then made my way back to his side, getting down on the floor next to him, tucking my hair behind my ear, and tapping the little toys for him so that they swung more for his entertainment. He looked at them as though they were magical. His little green orbs fixated on the bright toys. As I watched him, my mind wandered to the million different things that I still had to do. It was like an endless list, and I had no idea where to even begin. Half of my stuff was still at my flat, which I wasn't going to be able to go back to living in, given its minimal space. I knew I needed to get it emptied out soon, especially as I was still paying rent on it, but I needed to figure out how. Then there were Joey and Reia's funerals to plan, and people still to officially inform. It hadn't even been forty-eight hours yet, and somehow it felt like it had been weeks, months... minutes... hours. It varied throughout the day, but each perception was still agonising to my heart. I still couldn't believe that they weren't going to walk through the door at any moment. It was a strange feeling for me, as though half of me was missing, half of every emotion, every memory, every desire. It was as though life had grown dimmer since she was gone. We'd shared a bond all the way through our lives, and now, the bond was severed, and I was lost. Stumbling through a long, dark tunnel, trying to find my way, knowing that I'd lost something precious, and would have to keep moving on regardless.

After an hour and a half or so of playtime, I prepared his lunch. Sitting him back in his highchair, I began the task of feeding him. Yesterday I'd made the mistake of putting some baby food in a bowl, and sitting it in front of him. Only to have the plate flipped upside down a short time later, when he bashed his hand in it causing it to splatter over both of us. Today, I perched on a bar stool, and shuffled closer to him, beginning the popular aeroplane game with spoonfuls of baby food. I watched his variety of funny faces as he tasted the food, smacking his lips together as he experienced the flavours before swallowing it down. About halfway through the meal, the doorbell rang through the house, and I leant to the side, my eyes darting towards the hall. It was only for a second, but it seemed that it was long enough, because as soon as I moved back into place, Wyatt wriggled, his arms reaching forward as he bounced, and tipped the gloopy mixture out of the bowl, and splattering it against my top.

"Shit." I breathed, putting the bowl onto the counter and attempting to dab at the bright orange puree that was covering my clothing.

I caught sight of Wyatt, and clamped a hand over my mouth, realising my slip up at swearing in front of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I said rapidly as though he would begin to say it on repeat at any second.

The bell rang again, and I practically leapt into the air, quickly unbuckling Wyatt from the highchair and holding him close as I went to answer the door. As I swung it open, my eyes roved over the middle aged woman on the step. Her blonde hair was twisted up into a bun, and she wore casual clothes that had a smart edge to them, a neck ID tag, and carried a clipboard and a smart, oversized handbag. I stood there in silence as she looked me over, her eyes lingering for just a moment on the orange baby food stain on my jumper, before fixing on my face.

"Miss Morgan I presume?" She asked gently.

"Yes, Who are you?" I asked, torn between curiosity and fear, as to who this random woman on my doorstep was.

"Regina Landston. I'm your Health Visitor. Here to check on Wyatt."

I became very conscious of just what I wreck I must look, and my stomach flipped.

Oh shit.