Sacrifice

Eleven

Sarah's POV:

December 10th 2010

The last few weeks have been... rough. to say the least. The voice in my head tells me again and again I am a terrible mother.

My mom told me to go to therapy. That day she found me on the floor. All I can think of is what she said to me.

"Sarah? Sarah get up! Are you hurt?"

I didn't know if I was hurt.
My mind had ran away with itself. I left my baby. Florence. In her bouncer when she needed me. I had fallen to the floor and that was the last thing I could remember...

She told me she found me huddled in a ball... screaming. She thought that either me or Florence were seriously hurt.

Now that I think about it... I was hurt. Am hurt, still. Not on the outside, on the inside. My heart aches because I know I'm a terrible mother.
I know I am. I know I failed my baby.

That night a few weeks ago, she called Amanda over.
I heard a knocking on my bedroom door. My mom was in the living room with Flossie.
"Bird?" Her voice called from the other side of the door. It took me by surprise. I was still crying. I wiped my eyes and called back.
"Come in!"

We talked for hours. Hours and hours on end. She let me get all my feelings out and she let me cry on her shoulder. There was one thing she said that will always stick with me, though.

"That baby in there needs you, Sarah. She needs you to live. She relies on you. You wanna know what I think? I don't think you're scared to fail as a mother, because there's no right or wrong way to be a mother.... I think you're scared that she won't look at you and have all the love in her heart that you have for her. That one day she'll wake up and not even think about you. You're scared she'll forget. She needs you, sure. But right now I think you need her even more. She will never, ever, forget you."

And, I don't know why, but that really calmed me down. It's like she read my mind. I didn't even know how to put it into words myself, but bird did. She always does. I don't need a therapist when I have her.

I'm doing a lot better now. It's still rough, sure, I have my days, but I'm a lot better. I wake up this morning with a smile on my face. I dance over to the crib at the other side of my bedroom. I haven't danced in a while. Usually I would saunter... Maybe creep. Never dance. This is a good start.

"Hello my precious angel." I look at the clock. 4:45, "Goodness me! You're up late, you lazy bones! We have to get the day started."

I usually get woken up every hour, starting from when I first put her to bed, 6:00pm, until 3:00am. By 3:00, i give up completely on a real night sleep and just start the day.

I haul her out of the crib and over my shoulder, patting her back. She lets out a few squeals and whines, but I manage to hush her quickly.

"We don't want to wake grandma." I say, as I creep into the kitchen, past the living room, where she is sound asleep. She might actually get a full nights sleep tonight if Florence doesn't suddenly scream. I'm so grateful for my mom. She has helped me so much in the past month that I don't think I could ever repay her.

I get to the kitchen safely, without waking up mom. I hold Florence in one of my arms as I'm trying to make her morning bottle. One scoop of Formula into the bottle, half a scoop into the bottle. Then wait for it to heat up. Test it on my arm. Too hot. Wait for it to cool down. Test it again. Perfect.

"Here we go little Flossie Bossie." I say, tipping the bottle and putting it into her mouth. She doesn't take it for a while and then finally she starts drinking. I walk around the kitchen feeding her. She drinks about half and is finished. Then I burp her, I open the kitchen window to let some air in. It feels like I haven't left the house in a while.