To my Guest reviews Lils.

Thank you so much for the lovely compliment, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last one!

June
8 weeks old

I took a long deep breath as I rolled up onto en pointe, oh lord I missed this feeling, even if my shoes felt a little tighter than usual. I was still en pointe, I was in pointe shoes! I was cleared to resume normal life! My six-week appointment had been fairly simple, she was happy with my healing and gave me an all-clear. Of course, we had a long chat about birth control. Which was a nicer conversation than the one I had with my mother that is for sure! She nicely debunked some things and made me feel a bit more comfortable about the types. For now, I walked away with a script for what she called the mini-pill, the safest type for someone who was breastfeeding.

I could always switch whenever I stopped breastfeeding to a combination pill, or if I wanted to, get an IUD she would do it for me, but they cost more upfront. I didn't even know how much the pill cost, even so, my bank account was pretty much empty( with the exception of money from Ken, though hopefully, the child benefit would arrive soon.) I awkwardly went to dad for that information, who said he would call the pharmacy and get it filled at the same time. Though most likely it would be about 10-15 dollars for a three-month supply. Since I was on his insurance after all.

I even called Tessa the good news, who instructed me to not go crazy. Start easy and simple, and start in slippers first to get my body used to the motion again. Elowen often slept in her bouncy chair or chilling out as she watched me stretch and work out. It was a rude awakening to how much my old warm-up routines wiped me out. Much more than I had anticipated! So much sweat and protesting muscles and weakness, today though I pulled on an old pair of shoes that still had some life in them.

"Are you watching mummy?" I said to Owen quietly as it was early in the morning. Two weeks of eating no soy seemed to be working, she was calmer than ever and weighing in at a full eleven pounds. She looks at me with a gummy smile, that makes my heart skip a beat every time I see it before she chewed on her hand.

I feel my ankles protest, my Achilles tight, but I was en pointe!

"Seriously it's not even 7 am?" Shirley says coming from his room yawning, shirtless and in a pair of pyjama pants.

"It's the easiest time to work out with her in the morning," I tell him as I try a simple pirouette, to which Owen makes a noise at. "Did you like that?" I say to her, ignoring Shirley as he shakes his head.

"I'm going to shower," he says knowing that I would be here for a few minutes. I shake my head and do a small routine in my shoes, and when Owen began to fuss, I bent and took her into my arms as I grabbed her carrier. The baby-wearing wrap is the best thing I got from that baby shower. I settle her into it before I returned to my barre. I spent extra care, and talk through the step with her.

"And plie, arm in the third position and back up into the first position of the feet," I tell her. "Port de bras devant," I say next, bending at my waist forward, holding her with one hand. "Back up, cambré derrière," I call out next, as I bend backwards, holding her to me, stretching as far as I can before it hurts. "And back to upright," I call out.

"And finally, circular port de bras." I say before I bend and moving my upper body in a circular motion, bending forward, to the side and then backwards until my back is straight again.

Owen gives me some sort of babbling squeak and I smile. "I like that one too," I say kissing her head. I work my body until it protested, (and Owen who while found that whole thing fun, didn't like some of my moves!) I could feel my legs shake and sweat go down the spine of my back. Owen is asleep against me when I decide to make myself breakfast. But before that, I take a photo in the mirror with Owen.

'First-time en pointe, in well, six months!' I write a description on Instagram. 'Was it always this exhausting?'

I go slowly up the stairs, my body protesting greatly with each step. I turn to the kitchen, I eat a banana as I put a piece of rye bread in the toaster.

Toast with peanut butter, and a cut-up mango. A glass of milk, which I choked back, grimacing at the taste of it. I still had almond milk, but mom only bought so much so I had to ration it for the week.

"You are so lucky I love you," I look at Elowen as I plan out my day in my journal. I had it worked out fairly well. I knew what I need for Owen, I knew what I needed to lose these last few pounds. It was a frustrating game.

"So after your nap, we will go see Auntie Olivia? Now, that's she's done with exams?" I tell Elowen quietly. "We're going to go to the park and have a picnic and catch up now that you are much happier and not driving me insane," I say teasingly.

It took about a week for her to begin to feel better. Ken ended up taking a few days off somehow and was over to help me more when she was crying nonstop, so one of us could sleep, or get a breath of fresh air. Anything beyond being with a crying baby for hours on end. I also picked up on other little things that she didn't like when I ate grapefruit in the morning, another thing crossed off my list. Soy, grapefruit, spicy food in general, were the beginning of a list.

Putting Owen in her basket, knowing I may take her downstairs later on. I quickly showered washing off the sweat from dancing. If I continue this, I should be in shape to start working come September. Few days a week helping with the classes of younger children once more at first, and then once she was a bit older. I could do longer hours at the dance shop again.

I don't feel confident enough to pull on a leotard yet, but hopefully by September? That small curve of a stomach will be back to be flat?

I check on Owen who was still sleeping before grabbing one of my sundresses from my closet. The one I wore at thanksgiving since if needed I could easily nurse Owen in it.

I hear my phone buzz and I know it's Ken most likely asking how the night was. He was still on high alert after my episode after her long day of crying.

How was she overnight?

She was good, a full four hours at a time! I text back before I snap a quick photo of her sleeping to send. Her dark locks curling slightly at the ends now. She was still dressed in a white that has yellow bunnies on it. Her little hands lay splayed above her head. I made a mental note that I needed to cut those little nails of her. I would manage it this time, I would not resort to calling mom in a panic, too afraid to accidentally hurt her in the process again. But they have painted a pretty pink colour, from a bottle of infant-safe nail polish. Mom rolled her eyes when she saw what I did, but I was oddly proud of my work, and I painted mine to match!

I hear the piano come alive on the floor below, which somehow doesn't bother my sleeping baby at all.

I dress quickly and dry my hair. Looking at my phone I decide I even have time for make-up. If everything goes to plan. Owen will sleep until ten am. Just to about the time Olivia should arrive so, we can go to the park. That way we could enjoy the nice summer day with a walk and some playtime(followed hopefully by a nap!), and then home again in time for her afternoon feed!

I bring her downstairs in her basket, leaving her on the coffee table as I go get my water bottle.

"Shit I thought you left," Shirley says when he sees me, his hands flying off the piano.

"It's fine, she'll sleep through anything these days, I can vacuum my room and she'll sleep through it," I tell him.

"She seems much calmer," Shirley concludes from himself.

"The things I will do for her," I say shaking my head with a sigh.

"Like actually eat like a normal person?" Shirley says to me with a teasing smile.

"I hate milk," I make a face at even the thought of the taste of it.

"I know, I hear you try and not gag every time you drink it," he tells me as he picks up on the piano softly.

"So what's up with you and Wynnie? You seem to be quietly talking a bunch and shut up once someone comes into the room?"

I watch Shirley sigh and take his hands from the ivory keys once more.

"I haven't told mom and dad yet, but Wynnie's parents are moving away. Since her program is one of five and extremely competitive to get into she needs to stay here. We figured, instead of her getting a roommate, that we could move in together." Shirley told me quietly.

"Well, at least you nineteen and have that on your side, what can mom and dad really do?"

"Not pay for school?" Shirley said his eyes narrowing. "Object to me paying rent when I can live at home for free? Be too afraid that somehow I will drop out and not do anything with my life."

"Still sounds better than getting pregnant at sixteen," I tell him.

"Still, they'll say we are too young, haven't been together that long," Shirley says with a sigh.

"Well, you could just be me and throw it in their face that that didn't do much different?" I joke.

"Oh yes, that will go over swimmingly," Shirley says sarcastically. "You and Jem have always been like that though."

"I just don't think it fair that they are all preachy about things when clearly they weren't too worried about things themselves?" I say matter of factly.

Shirley shakes his head once more and I hear a gentle knock on the door.

"Oh, that is Olivia!" I say skipping over to the door.

It more than a few minutes to get out the door. We grabbed the food from the fridge and got Owen into the stroller. I made a quick final check to make sure her diaper bag had enough things in it. The final things were to make it out the door with my phone, wallet and keys also in hand.

"I can never get over how adorable she is, she looks a lot like Ken in some angles, but other times she's all you," Olivia gushes.

"People say she looks like me sometimes but really I don't see it," I tell her. "She's mostly Ken, yet I did all the hard work." I pout and Olivia laughs as begin our walk to the park while catching up on things about life. Mine was mainly Owen-related, but Olivia told me about how exams were and how happy she was that it was over with. Which I didn't blame her for!

"Oh! Something was going on at school, the RCMP was talking to your mom, did you hear her mention anything?" Olivia asks.

"Not that I know of?" I say frowning. "Must have been nothing, but then again I go out of my way to stay out of her way these days."

"Still fighting?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Never really made up since the last fight, and if it's not about how much I screwed up, and not allowed another screw-up, it's about my choices as a parent. I'm doing this or that wrong when the book says it's perfectly fine to not strictly enforce tummy time. If she's not in the mood for it I don't force her to do it. Sometimes I wish mom and I were more like you and your mom."

"Don't think we don't fight, because we do." Olivia laughs lightly as we settle under the large tree in the park. We spread out a blanket and bring out the food before I carefully take Owen and cuddle her before I cover myself up and let her have her own morning snack.

"So my dad randomly sent me a letter," Olivia says out of the blue.

"Your Dad? Like Dad, Dad?" I ask her swallowing my grape I had just put in my mouth with my free hand. The Dad I know her dad to be was really her step-father who was well, Korean-Canadian. So it was safe to say that anyone could tell that he wasn't actually her father.

"More like sperm donor, but yeah it was a shock to me as well. I mean I know he had our address and all, mom always forwards it to him but considering we haven't heard from him in three years. Let alone seen any support from him in years at that," Olivia says with a sigh. "He wants to call me, he gave me his number. Apparently, he got his life together and wants me to come to visit him this summer. Which essentially means he has a new girlfriend and wants to make it look like he cares?" She explains quietly. "Make mom out to be the villain who took me from him, that poisoned me. She doesn't even say a bad thing about him, whenever I go off about him, she just reminds me that he's my father and that he does love me in his own strange way. I mostly remind her that Kwan is a better father than he is, and loves me enough to call me his daughter daily."

I frown, on one hand, where Ken's older sister Thea had a vindictive mother. Olivia's actual Father has never been someone she could rely on it. Broken promises and disappearances that left her heartbroken. All the while two weeks ago I was crying to Ken wanting to live a normal life.

"What will you do?" I ask her, as I look down at Owen in my arms, who had pulled the blanket away without me realizing it. I blush, but only fix my shirt a bit.

"Ignore him?" She says with a sigh. "He hasn't needed me all these years, and I'm tired of thinking things will change. He'll make mom look like the villain, when it's always been him, god he couldn't even make his first visit after they broke up. I sat on the porch steps for two hours, until mom made me come inside and made me hot chocolate and let me cry. Kwan though, will he thinks I should at least answer back."

I've only met Kwan a couple of times. He occasionally came to pick up Olivia from school and offered a ride to me as well. Of course, there were also the few times I had been over at Olivia's. Much to her own embarrassment, but I understood her first reaction to my home the first time. It was double the size, even my room was larger than hers, but it was a nice home and it felt homey. Her mother Juilet and Kwan made it seem larger than what it was, but being there I saw just how different our families and incomes were.

I frown not knowing what to say, I never been in such a position with parents as her, but at the same time Ken and I? Weren't we almost playing the same game in a way?

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to unload on you," Olivia says.

"No, no! It's fine, frankly, it's nice to have a conversation other than breastfeeding and diapers," I tell her. "I just don't really know what to tell you without bringing in my own problems which you don't need to hear about," I tell her. "Maybe Kwan is right, but maybe just tell him that you are done being treated like a toy you only play with every once in a while, that you're a person? That unless he steps up and actually actively tries to be part of your life that you don't want a relationship with him?"

"Maybe?" Olivia says sighing. "Robbie said the same thing, but that means he won't see me for more than a few weeks in the summer."

"Is that all sorted?" I ask.

"Yeah, his parents talked to mom and they worked it out together." Olivia nods her head. "Actually he got into Moncton university, so it won't be too terrible. He'll have a car, but the bus ticket is cheaper than the toll and gas." Olivia says.

"So you got it all figured out!" I nudge her.

"Now, what did you mean by not knowing what to say, or turning it around to you?" Olivia turned the table to me.

"Nothing really, it's just weird thinking about parents, when suddenly you are a parent?" I say as I move Owen to my shoulder and begin to rub her back

"Is it?" Olivia asked as she eats some cheese and crackers. I'm still not sure if I can verbalize that night, especially considering her relationship with her father. What would it be like if I told her I actively contemplated even for a short moment, to just leave Owen with Ken? To disappear from her life, just because I could do it?

"I had some rough days," I settle with. "I said some things to Ken that I didn't mean or want, he didn't shy away from essentially telling me to think about what I said. Which is fine, I'm sure if the tables had been turned, I would have told him the same thing. If I could say it to him, he should be able to say it to me, it's only fair?"

"You're talking in circles, but sure if one can say it to the other person. The other person should be able to say it back." Olivia says and I sigh.

"I broke down, she had been crying all day and when she finally calmed down and Ken got her to have some formula. It just wasn't a good night for me and I said something along the lines of wanting my old life back?" I say quietly.

"Hey, hey, there is a massive difference between him and you being overwhelmed. He left me and my mom like it was a normal thing to do. I was only eight years old, and he just packed up and left one day. There was no lead-up, he just left. You and Ken, it's different your new parents learning how to be parents. I heard her crying that day I came over to drop something off if she was like that for hours and days on end. I wouldn't blame you for going a bit nutty, I would have gone nutty too. But the main thing is that you look like you regret whatever you told him, but you're also learning from them. That is why you're different from him," Olivia says to me, trying to tell me that she doesn't judge me for anything that I feel like she would judge me for.

"You're never allowed to move," I tell her wiping a stray tear away quickly. "I'm sorry if I have been MIA as well."

"You had a baby, I can understand," Olivia said brushing it off. "Can I have a cuddle?"

"Of course," I tell her and pass her Owen who was fully winded now somewhat interested in her surroundings. "It's just been a lot harder than I thought it would be, so thank you?"

"But you're dancing again?" Olivia points out. "So obviously things will go back to normal over time. You still plan on working at the dance shop do you not?

"Yeah, I do," I nod my head. "And it probably the most I've felt like myself in so long. Actually, I'm sure mom and dad would be going psychotic if they caught me, but she likes being wrapped up to my chest when I dance. Though I'm pretty sure I saw some baby and barre classes promoted before so I can't be all that bad?"

"I'm sure you would never actively put her in danger," Olivia says with a nod of her head and I smile at her. I reach for my phone, taking a photo of her and Owen together.

Time well spent with the Honorary Fairy Godmother. I post on Instagram, tagging her in it, before scrolling through the numerous photos of Owen on my feed.

"Also, if I ever turn into the person who only posts about their kid. Please for the love of god pry my phone out of my hands and tell me to stop." I tell her earnestly.

Olivia looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and I look at her back before we both burst out laughing. Apparently, I already went past the point of no return with that one.

Olivia heads home, instead of coming back to my place. I park the stroller on the back porch and go through the kitchen with Owen in my arms who fussing. Clearly ready for her next nap after spending the last hour and a half-awake in the park.

"I'm home!" I call out, and then I hear it.

"I'm nineteen years old! You can't actually stop me from moving out you do realize that?" I hear Shirley shout.

"We know you are nineteen Shirl," I hear Dad groan and sigh. "We just don't think you thought this entirely through."

"I've thought about it plenty, it just makes sense! Less money on gas, less travelling to and from school and work. Actually having some privacy and quiet time with Wynnie is just a bonus," Shirley retorts. "We've talked this through, we know what we're doing. She can't afford a place by herself, not one that allows pets anyway. Student loans won't cover rent and her parents don't make enough to help beyond a little bit of tuition, but with me, us we can make it work for the both of us."

"Which means more working hours, and less time studying or practicing for school," Mom points out to him. "It makes no sense for you to move out, your is piano here, you don't pay rent. Most of your paycheques go towards your car, which means you'll have to work close to triple the number of hours to pay for rent. We had a deal, go to school here, have a place to live, we are not paying for a place when you can live at home."

"I wasn't asking you to!" Shirley growled. "See you're not even listening to me! You hear move out and you automatically think oh god he's going do something stupid!"

"We are listening to Shirley, we just don't think it's a good idea, you've been only dating a year," Mom says.

"We've been dating for almost two years, none of you believe it for the first six months. Also, you and Dad were barely dating a year when you found about Joy and were married before the second year." Shirley reminds them. "I love her, that's enough for both of us right now. I swear whenever Wynnie is over and we're downstairs it's like every 30 minutes your checking in on something! Newsflash, it doesn't always take 30 minutes. Though it might be nice for it to be!" Shirley exclaims. "I get it you're paranoid, but really we have it all work out, we're not idiots. No offence," he adds on, realizing that I was in the kitchen still since I had yet to find a way to sneak back upstairs.

"None took," I call back as I sneak through the war zone with Owen in my arms. "Excuse me I just need to go upstairs, please ignore me," I say dashing up the stairs with my baby in my arms.