November 2018

6 months

The aftermath of our Thanksgiving was a whirlwind as Halloween passed and November began. While I didn't take Owen out of Halloween, I did dress her up in a small hobbit dress that Di had made her and let her help hand out candy.

Meanwhile, most of the focus was on Shirley and Wynnie's surprise marriage. It was after my siblings left to go back to school and their own homes that Mom and Dad laid into what brought this on. Shirley mostly shrugged and said they wanted to get married so they got married. Within a few days of their announcement, there were photos to accompany the news. None at the courthouse, but they had some out on a boat. Dressed up in Shirley's recital suit and Wynnie was wearing a long pale blue, almost white dress that looked like something a fairy might wear. While tank had on a bow tie and sat at their feet in the boat. They looked very much in love and happy in them that Is for sure.

I wanted to ask if this was some sort of prank, payback in a way for meddling in his relationship when he had wanted to move in Wynnie, but I didn't. Still, it was all the rage in the sibling group chat between me and my sisters.

It also felt like WW3, or would it be 4 if my pregnancy had been WW3 in this house? I can see Mom trying to remain calm, not overreact, but it was like her head couldn't wrap around the fact that Shirley just up and got married. While Dad sat him down and had a man-to-man talk to him.

Meanwhile, I managed to keep up my grades enough, though I am sure half of it is pity. It's enough though to make my parents happy. Still, I find myself compromising with myself as I tell them I already told Tessa that I can only work Saturday mornings. It didn't mean I would see more of Owen. As Ken had his time with her then, but it gave me more time for school and even possibly to go to Olivia's or Mirandas if I wanted to.

I was in French class on a Tuesday when I got a set saying that I had to come to pick up Owen at lunch. That she seemed to have the onset of a cold it was Thursday so she was in daycare.

"What should I tell Ken?" I ask mom in her office.

"Just tell him, Owen's not feeling well. She should stay home, he's more than welcome to come to see her after work like he used to do. Same with tomorrow and so forth, but she should stay home and not be carted around." Mom tells me simply. "I'll sign you out for the rest of the day, your father should be home he can give you the rundown of how to deal with infants who are sick," Mom tells me. "Anything you have to hand in school work-wise?" She asks.

"I have a paper in creative writing," I tell her. "I'll go hand it in and I'll meet you at the car?"

Mom nods her head, she tries to take Owen but she shrieks and clings to me. "I'll just bring her with me," I sigh.

I knock lightly on the door that was my creative writing class, Owen was whimpering and rubbing her nose on me as I held her. Kids were passing me in the hall starring, mostly because walking throng the hallways with my baby was not something I have done yet.

Ms. Brooke seems taken back at the sight of a baby when she looks up from her desk.

"I can't stay, I just wanted to give you this," I tell her handing over my paper. "Mom has signed me out," I explain. "This one can't be at daycare if she's sick after all."

"Is this why you are always late? You were at daycare at lunch?" She asks me, a touch of shock in her voice. "Why didn't you explain?"

I shrug. "She's breastfeeding and doesn't like bottles and I thought you knew. It's not exactly a secret that the daughter of the principal got knocked up last year," I say awkwardly as I wipe the snot off of Owen's face.

"Well, I hope she gets better soon, I will email you the assignments, I'm assuming you won't be in tomorrow either?" she tells me, softening slightly. "Your poem, about something you cherish," she says out of the blue. As if it clicks in her head, what it truly was about.

"I don't know what happening this week but I have to go mom is waiting to drive me home," I tell her and she nods her head and lets me leave. I feel even more on display as I walk back through the hallways, kids are curious about her, most of them only ever heard of my baby and never seen her.

I get home and place her on the floor as I put away her things. Dad was sleeping when I got home. So I googled how to care for an infant with a cold, and really it's about the same as an adult cold minus any relief. Beyond sucking snot from her nose and watching out for a fever. He was oddly confused when he woke up to find me home though, running a hand over his head still yawning.

"Daycare called and said they think she has a cold," I explain to him. "Her nose is running like a faucet, but she doesn't seem to have a fever," I tell him as she lets out a cough. "And apparently coughing," I say with a sigh. "She wasn't that hungry at lunch, so I'll try again to see if I can get a bit more in her, even just for fluids," I tell him. "At least that is what google told me?"

"Sounds about right to me, keep an eye out on her breathing. You may want to stick a towel under her mattress to put on an incline," Dad tells me pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "She'll be out of daycare until she's not displaying symptoms."

"What about school?" I say frowning.

"Your mother is probably figuring that out," Dad replies simply. "Have you told Ken yet?"

"Not yet, I'll text him in a few minutes," I tell him. To which I do, and he's understanding about it. It is unfair to drag a sick baby around. He might have to break up his day between visits to run the errands he usually does with her in tow these days, but he'll work it out.

I play on the floor with Owen as she plays, clearly not feeling too horrible since she was still batting away at her soft toys and rolling around.

My phone lights up, I have a message from Ken and another from Nan in the group chat.

It's a photo.

'Is this all right for a coffee date?'

She was wearing a plaid midi skirt with a light pink blouse and a darker blue cardigan with a narrow belt.

It's a date, not an afternoon tea with the girl, show some skin, were the jeans that make your ass look good— Di responds first in typical Di Fashion.

Don't listen to her Nana, you look lovely and very you—Joy responds.

I like it, but I'm covered in barf half of the time so anything remotely cleans looks good to me— I reply jokingly

Though you have a date!—I add on excited for her.

What's his name, who is he!—I ask her.

I'm not wearing Jeans Di, Thank you, Joy—Nan responds.

His name is Christian( hoping this is just some sort of fluke!) He works in the university as a professor's assistant. Not mine of course, but he's cute! We met at the school's library and yeah, but I should get going! I'll keep you posted!—Nan replies.

We all wish her good luck and I return my focus on Owen.

When Ken arrived at 5:30, still in his work clothes. "I think I still have some of your things from laundry," I tell him and go to the laundry room. I find him an old pair of sweat pants and some tee-shirt that was his that I had borrowed one day and handed them to him. I go upstairs and grabbed my sterilized pump because I needed an ounce for Owens dinner.

Because despite the beginnings of her cold, and since Ken was over for dinner to see Owen. We still planned to give her the first bites of baby oatmeal before our dinner. Mixed with my milk to make it more appetizing and palatable( if that was possible!).

It was rather priceless to watch her face and not totally understand what we were giving her. I wanted to go with more of the baby-led weaning approach. But dad being a doctor and all put his foot down. There was a reason for baby cereal, it teaches them to eat cereal and replenishes their iron that was depleting. Just because something is popular doesn't mean you have to follow it.

Though I did refuse rice cereal after reading about the levels of potential arsenic in it from how it was made. So oatmeal won out, and dad was satisfied enough even if he did roll his eyes when I tried to give her a taste of avocado. Which pretty much she let fall out of her mouth with a look of disgust on her face.

"Daddy hates Avocado as well, so I'm with you with that one Elowen," he laughs and gives scrapes the bowl of oatmeal with the spoon and feeds her one last little bit. "There you go, that should taste better to you," he says and I shake my head at him. I grab the wet cloth I had and wipe off her face and neck.

I set down to my dinner, which was a carefully portioned plate. Enough to make my parents happy, enough to make my counsellor to not send me off to a nutritionist. Even though I am pretty sure she is still trying to work out how messed up I am, so who knows that could still happen.

All I know though is that Owen was tipping the scales at 19 pounds when I weighed her last. She wasn't starving being the little chunky monkey that she was that was clear, so my small weight loss didn't affect her.

I look to Ken who was eating quietly while playing with Owen here and there, occasionally answering a text on his phone. I try not to look when it would light up, and while most of the time it was someone I knew, occasionally someone names Mona would pop up.

Mona, so that was her name.

"So playtime, bath time and bedtime?" He asks me looking up from his phone.

"Routine hasn't changed," I tell him and he takes a moment to type something out. "I'll probably go up and study for a bit so you can have time with her," I tell him quietly.

"You don't have to," Ken tries to tell me.

"I need to study," I shake my head. I also don't want to see him constantly texting whoever he was seeing. I may see his side, but it still stings I'm only human after all.

I can feel his mind work, though Owen saves the day by sneezing and scaring herself at the same time.

"Oh it's all right, it's just a sneeze," I tell her wiping her nose.

I make use of the quiet upstairs, as Ken talked to Shirley and Wynnie who came home downstairs. Finishing my homework and just allowing myself a few minutes myself and to listen to some music out loud. I even find a moment I work out some pent of energy at the barre in the spare room. Until Ken comes up when it was time to begin bedtime.

She keeps me up most of the night, whatever was bothering her manifested at 2 am when she cried. I searched the cabinet when I could hear her nose sniffle. I grimaced at the contraption that was the snot sucker.

Lovely, just lovely, I thought to myself.

"You are so lucky I love you as much as I do," I tell Owen as wipe her nose. No one warns you about having to suck snot out of your baby's nose that is for sure.

When I finally made my way down the stairs I found Susan Baker in the kitchen. "Ahh your up, your mother called and asked if I could come to spend the day with you. I hear the little one isn't feeling well."

"She has a bit of a cold," I tell her. If I was honest I rather missed the summer days where she helped me get caught up on studying.

Ken stops by around eleven and Susan and I leave him with Owen. As I show her what I was doing in history class wanting her opinion on my paper that I was supposed to start writing. I can tell he looks a touch annoyed,

"Sure ignore the person with a degree in history," I hear him mutter to Owen playfully.

"I'm not ignoring you, Susan just knows more about the island's history curriculum," I call out to him. "Don't use the tissue, use one of the blankets to wipe her nose," I add on almost on a sixth sense.

"I have a test on Friday," I tell him as I take our crying daughter.

"Okay?" Ken says looking at me unsure of what I wanted him to do today.

"You're going to have to take her," I tell him as I plunk myself down and pull at my shirt. Boob should hopefully quiet her down?

"I work?" Ken says frowning.

"Then call in sick, ask for it off? I don't know but someone needs to watch her and I need to pass this test and I don't want it hanging over my head for the weekend. It's bad enough I'm missing half of this week," I tell him pointedly.

"I'll figure it out," Ken says sighing.

"Thank you," I say trying not to roll my eyes.

It's fine for me to miss school, and take care of a sick baby but he can't take one day off?

The rest of the week is much of the same. Nights are brutal, while daytime is spent with oddly timed naps and pumping when she refuses to nurse. Which also helps build up some supplies in the freezer and fridge for her morning cereal. I drop Owen off at Ken's before going to school, Olivia was happy to see me when she saw me at my locker. Asking if Owen was feeling better, and I explain I had a test in French and that she was with Ken for the day.

Though I thought she was feeling better, I was wrong. Oh, boy was I wrong I soon would find out. Because nothing was working and no one was home as I tried to battle with whatever she had that sprung on suddenly.

She didn't like lying down, it made her congested, the towel under the mattress wasn't helping. I had sucked snot from her nose on numerous occasions trying to help her breathe better and no one was answering their phones.

Mom was out at Aunt Diana's after apparently drinking too much wine to drive back home. Dad was working and Shirley and Wynnie had only stumbled home drunk from a friend's house. While Ken, Ken wasn't answering his god damn phone even when I called it numerous times.

She was burning up, and the last time I check her temperature it rose above 100 when I took her temperature. She wouldn't nurse now, and was getting desperate, desperate enough to drive her to the hospital myself?

Could I do that? It wasn't exactly the legal thing to do, drive-by myself but Dad makes me drive often enough and with Owen most of the time that I could probably do it? I would have to do it if I wanted to get her any sort of relief.

"All right, I can do this," I mumble to myself. I know where the spare keys are for the car. I can do this. If I get pulled over I'll just explain I have a sick baby? I mean they aren't going to arrest me and not let me take her to the hospital?

I put Owen in her car seat and buckle her in, de-snotting her hoping it will last a little while for the drive over. I grab my purse with her health card and birth certificate, and my cell phone and lock the front door.

I take a deep breath when I sink into the driver's side, I look back at her car seat, the little mirror that allowed me to see her face.

"We got this," I tell her. "We'll be okay, I'll get you some help and you'll feel better," I tell her as I take another deep breath and start the car. God, please don't let me kill us both.

I drive, carefully as I can. The roads are dead, but it is almost two am, I shut off the radio, letting me hear Owen breathe and cry as I just try to focus on the road, to not cry while driving. She didn't need me getting into an accident that is for sure.

The drive takes the full twenty minutes, even without the traffic because I am being so cautious. I find the nearest parking spot, that has no cars around as I managed to pull into the spot. I take Owen who was still crying and overly warm and carried her in her blanket.

I walk into emergency up to reception. Trying to act older than I am, trying to not look overwhelmed.

"She has a high fever. It was just nasal congestion and some sneezing and a bit of a cough, but then she got this fever and I tried to give her a lukewarm bath and keep her cool. I didn't know what else to do, she's not nursing since she can't breathe through her nose when I try. She's also pulling at her ear sometimes I don't know if that a thing or not?" I say trying to explain as I fight back tears.

"Okay, take a deep breath, are you her mother?" The medical receptionist told me and I nod my head. "I need her health card," she explains and I nod my head and dig one-handed through my purse.

She logs in information and looks at the waiting room and asks something to her colleague quietly.

"Come with me, we'll get you in now as you'll most likely going up to pediatrics," she told me. Brings me into an empty exam room as try to wipe her nose with my sleeve and clear out her nose.

"Rilla?" Dad says coming through the door confused. "What's wrong?" He must have seen Owen's name on the chart. Looking around the room, only seeing me and frowning when Mom was at Aunt Diana's. "Where Kens?"

"Ken wasn't answering his phone," I tell him. "She has a high fever and she can't nurse because she can't breathe, and nothing seems to work or help," I tell him, my lip quivering.

Dad takes her and unwraps her on the examining table. Taking her temperature with his thermometer and checked her heartbeat and pulse.

"How did you get here?" He asks me to grab his snot sucker that was in a cabinet to give her some relief.

"I drove," I say quietly, making myself small as possible in the corner.

I hear dad sigh, and I'm not sure if it's my confession, or him deciding that he was going to call pediatrics. Which he did before he wrapped Owen back in her lighter blanket, and motioned for me to follow him.

"I called Ken multiple times, I tried mom, Shirley and Wynnie only got home from the bar," I try to explain. "I didn't want to, but I had no choice what else could I do? It seemed silly to call the paramedics for something like a fever."

"Rilla, please just stop," Dad says. "You did what you had to do, now come follow me."

I spent the rest of the night sleeping in a chair, watching Owen sleep in her little cot.

I had been offered a pump when I still couldn't get her to nurse for more than a minute and every half hour. My poor nipples were feeling it that was sure, and Dad was in and out of the room, checking up on me.

A cold and ear infection, I was told. They gave her some antibiotics and medicine to help her fever but kept her to ensure that she was responding to the medicine.

I was calling Ken again, leaving a message when Greg, who might be remembered as one of my labour nurses. Well, apparently he also does rounds in pediatrics occasionally. I sigh and hang up my phone.

"Everything all right?" He asks checking over Owen as he does. "Anything I can help with?"

"Not really," I say with a sigh. "Unless you can magic people to pick up their damn phones."

"Sadly that is not something I can not do," He chuckles. "Is everything all right with the two of you? You seemed rather tight when she was born?" Greg asks.

I shrug. "It's just peachy? I don't know it's complicated me and him. We agreed to be friends and just sorta leave everything else at the door for the time being. Except I didn't think seeing him or thinking of him with another person would be this hard. I agreed with him, I understood, I agreed that timing was on our side. " I say with a sigh I'm rambling on to a nurse who does not care at all.

"You'll figure out what works best for you," Greg asks kindly and I shake my head. "Sometimes feelings can be complicated."

"Feelings aren't the issue, Jimminy Cricket was the issue," I tell him.

"At least you both respecting that cricket," Greg pointed out. "Shows you're both mature enough to want better for yourself."

"How your's boyfriend?" I ask him curiously.

"Fiance actually, and he is well," Greg grins at me. "She's responding great by the way, why don't you try and get some sleep?" He says to me. "We need mommy to be rested as well."

I only nod my head and curl up on the blankets someone gave me.

I woke up after a measly nap to Mom talking to Dad who was still in his scrubs, all I could hear is them, not Owen. I rub my eyes rubbing my mascara in the process and look around. She sleeps, her little chest moving up and down. I run my hand down over her stomach and sigh in relief.

"I am so sorry I wasn't home?" Mom says pulling me into a bear hug. It was 6 am….it was too early for this. Dad was there as well in his scrubs.

"It's okay," I say quietly.

It was a little after 7 when Ken finally calls me back, I keep it short saying we were in the hospital still and told him the room number. He shows up in a half-hour, clearly had thrown on clothes and just left the house without much of a thought.

"I am so sorry! I left my phone in the kitchen by accident," he tries to explain.

"You might want to clean up a bit," Dad says quietly as he flicks the collar of Ken's shirt. Lipstick or leftover lipstick on his neck, which instantly tells us what he had been up to. Ken blushes and mom raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Ken comes back to the room after using the washroom. His neck was scrubbed clean and water splashed on his hair and neck.

He tries to come to stand next to me and I move away from him and move around the cot and caress Owen's head. On her ankle is a medical bracelet, she stirs at my touch and lets out a cough.

"I'm sorry," Ken tries to apologize.

"Don't apologize to me, I figured it out on my own. Apologize to her" I said rather coldly, being tired as I was. "You promised to be there for her, so remember that. I don't care what you do, that not any of my business, but you still have to be there for her," I tell him pointedly.

I can see him bite his tongue, arguing with me would but useless, even he knew that right now.

"Of course," Ken says sighing. "Is everything all right with her?"

"Her cold gave her an ear infection and she had a high fever," I tell him the short version of everything from the last night. "She wasn't nursing because she couldn't breathe because her nose was constantly stuffy. She'll be fine, they gave her some antibiotics for her ear. She'll be able to go home later today as long as her fever stays down, I just need to make sure she gets enough fluids in her." I tell him.

"You were alone all night?" He asks frowning.

Find myself shrugging, "I mean Dad came when he could spare a minute, and the nurses were here." I tell him and as if on cue there was a knock on the door.

"How is the patient doing?" And it was Greg.

"She's sleeping, I fed her a bed not too long ago, though she didn't eat much if my chest tells me anything, so I'll probably try again."

"I can find you a breast pump if you're that uncomfortable, don't need you to get a clog or worse," Greg says as he goes over Owen's vital signs. "Any diaper changes?

"About an hour ago?" I reply to time. "They doctor earlier gave me a manual pump, so I have that if it gets too uncomfortable," I add on.

"I see daddy finally showed up?" He looks to Ken who was still looking and feeling awkward though looking at Greg like he was trying to remember why he looked familiar.

"I came as soon as I saw the messages," he says rather put out at Gregs' observation, knowing how many times I tried to call him.

"Well, she seems to be responding to the antibiotics which are good," he tells me. "Her fever has also gone down as well. I'll send the doctor over on his next rounds, he may want to keep her longer, but we shall see?" He says to me with a smile. I almost forget talking to him that he helped me during labour and essentially in what is in the top five of vulnerable moments.

I nod my head and gather her up in my arms and sink into the chair they had brought me.

"See you'll be okay baby," I kiss her hair and breathe in that baby sent of hers.

I sit with her in my arms for a good hour, feeding and just cuddling until I hear Mom's phone go off, and then Dad's.

"It's Fred," Mom says quietly to Dad. "They issued a new date for the hearing just now," she says, a touch louder.

"When is it?" I ask looking at them.

"On this coming Thursday," Mom tells me. "But let's just focus on Owen being well." She runs a hand down over my hair.

Thursday.

Thursday couldn't come fast enough.

Ken's certainly not winning father of the year is he haha. He'll learn though, I think, I hope.

Tina.