Chapter 28 - Friday 2 September (3 months old)

It's the Friday before Labor Day. Mia is almost three months old. Leaving behind the sleepy newborn days, she has filled out, and woken up. Donna can't get enough of her fat, smooth cheeks and the adorable plump rolls of her little thighs. The baby's alert eyes, so like Harvey's, follow Donna everywhere. She can smile and laugh now. She is pure joy.

Donna is utterly consumed by her love for her baby girl, and her fear that something could happen to her. Mia occupies her thoughts day and night - and she has plenty of time to think at night, when she is often awake thanks to Mia's giant FOMO (at least that's Harvey's analysis of why their daughter rarely seems to close her eyes).

In some ways the rush of love is glorious, but Donna finds the intensity of it all a little... uncomfortable. She moves through the amorphous days of her maternity leave in a fog of jumbled emotion and exhaustion and shock. The demands of early parenthood have given her little time to process the birth, or the seismic changes in her life, though the former continues to play on her mind through the long nights.

Right now it's like she feels everything, thinks nothing. It's the opposite of how she is used to living. She dimly hopes one day she'll find balance, feel ordinary again instead of this overpowering blend of euphoria and depression. Mia will always be her priority, but she hopes that there will be space in her life for other things again. Especially for her and Harvey.

Harvey has been her rock through the past few months. They have spent more non-work time together than ever before, and it's amazing to see this new side of him, and to watch his developing relationship with Mia. But she misses him, the two of them, as a couple. She wonders if she would have done this, had she known what it would mean sacrificing, and then feels a sharp stab of guilt when she looks at her gorgeous baby.

Harvey had taken the first month off work, and has been punctilious in leaving the office on time since his return. When he's here, he takes care of the practical things: all the cooking and the diaper changes and keeping things tidy.

She is grateful that he's looking after them like this. It leaves her time to focus on Mia. But it often takes him away from her side, and as Mia isn't exactly big on conversation yet, Donna feels a little lonely. They don't even get much of an evening together: Donna has to go to bed early to try and cram in some sleep, as she knows she will be up for most of the night.

She is used to being busy and active and talking to people all day long, and this new life is a big adjustment. She would never want to leave Mia at this age, and she feels grateful and lucky that she doesn't have to. But god, she misses the mental stimulation and social interaction that work brings, she has nothing but the baby to talk about, and her sense of self is slipping away.

…

This evening, she is holding Mia, who has fallen asleep after a feed, and is using Donna as a pacifier. Donna knows if she moves her to her crib, she will likely wake. She is so tired, and it's so much easier to just let her sleep here, even if her arm is aching and she needs a drink and to go to the bathroom, and even though she can just hear her mom's voice telling her she is spoiling Mia and getting her into bad habits that she'll surely regret.

It's boring, sitting for hours like this. Some days she swears she has finished the internet: she has read every article and update on all her favorite websites and apps. She can't reach the TV remote. She doesn't have a book to hand, and she's too tired to concentrate even if she did. She can't call anyone - it would disturb Mia, and in any case her friends are likely to be still at work. Plus she is conscious that she has nothing to talk about but babies.

She falls into a usual pastime - scrolling through cute photos of Mia. She pauses on one of Harvey holding Mia, radiating pride and happiness as he introduces her to Lily for the first time. Seeing Harvey, who for years has had no family life of any kind, with his mom and his daughter, knowing that she had helped to give him this: it makes her heart swell with joy.

Lily had come to visit in the first month. She refused to stay more than one night, clearly wary about pushing too far, too fast. Donna, however, had wished her stay had been longer, as Harvey's mom knew exactly when and how to help and when to melt away and give her space and privacy. Unlike her own parents, she thinks wryly. Refreshingly, Lily didn't have a rose-tinted view of motherhood, and made Donna feel that her struggles to adjust were normal, unlike most of her visitors who seemed uncomfortable with any sign of ambivalence. But perhaps Lily was right: the short visit had gone incredibly well, and that was the main thing.

She resumes scrolling through her camera roll. Here's another picture of Harvey and Mia watching the Yankees game on TV. Mia's eyes are like saucers, captivated by the moving colors, while Harvey gives her a detailed rundown of the action.

And then one of Harvey standing by the window in the early morning light showing Mia a bird in the tree. He is in a faded old Harvard shirt, with his hair is all messed up, looking so different from Harvey in lawyer mode.

She treasures the moments like these when she glimpses Harvey interacting with Mia, just the two of them. He is enraptured by his daughter, and loves to show her the world, talk to her about anything and everything. It's a side of him that no one else gets to see, that's all hers.

And she has to admit, the sight of the tiny baby in his muscular arms is… kind of hot. Which gives her hope that that part of her, that part of them, still exists, somewhere.

They haven't had sex since the birth - not even come close. Her doctor gave her the go ahead at her last check up and she had almost laughed in disbelief: the suggestion seemed so outlandish.

For a start, they are both exhausted, all of the time. Mia is generally awake at 11 or 12 and again at 2 or 3, and it's really hard to settle her after that. They sleep in shifts, usually in separate beds, and they're both running on empty. If they do find themselves in the same bed, she is all touched out from holding Mia all day, and tends to wriggle out of Harvey's arms after the briefest of cuddles.

Harvey has gently suggested they get a night nanny for a while, or try Mia with a bottle of formula in the evening in case that helps her to sleep longer through the night. Donna stubbornly won't hear of either. For reasons she can't quite explain to herself, accepting help, taking shortcuts would feel like failure. She's Donna. She's got this. Hasn't she?

It's not just the exhaustion that puts sex firmly off the table for now. Donna hasn't adjusted to her unfamiliar new body, and worries what Harvey will really think about it. She wasn't able to move around much in the weeks after her surgery, and a decaff with vanilla and whipped cream and a cake from her favorite coffee shop was pretty much what got her through those early days. So she put on what feels to her like a lot of weight. Enough to mean that she is still in maternity wear and Harvey's t shirts, because nothing from before her pregnancy comes close to fitting. She doesn't want to give in and buy things in her new size. She is hoping that all this breastfeeding will use up some calories, but as far as she can tell, it's bullshit that breastfeeding helps shift baby weight: despite feeding Mia constantly, it's not going anywhere.

There's another reason that she doesn't want to think about sex. After the surgery, she's scared. The thought of Harvey touching her there makes her wince. She can't even bear to touch herself, afraid of what she will find. Will she enjoy sex now? Will she feel different to Harvey? Will he see her differently, after witnessing the birth?

She feels his love in all that he does for her every day. But how does he love her, now they're parents, now her body has changed? She can't believe she's stuck back on this same tired old question.

He hasn't made a move. Nothing. She remembers their early days at the DA's office, when he pursued her relentlessly. The way his eyes devoured her through the years at the firm, even though she had placed herself firmly off limits. Through the ups and downs of her pregnancy, that spark was still burning.

He's never been good at hiding what he wants. And now there is no sign that he wants her. Doesn't he look at her that way anymore? She wouldn't be surprised: what does she have to offer him now? Mia drains all her energy and attention, and owns her, body and mind.

If she is feeling somewhat trapped in her new life, does he feel that way too? She can't imagine him being happy in a sexless relationship, it's Harvey. What if he feels trapped by her?

...

Mia wakes, interrupting Donna's train of thought. Donna sings to her and jiggles her around to keep her from crying. Every day at about 5 o'clock, just as her mother is tired and looking forward to winding down, Mia gets really unsettled. The baby books call it the witching hour. She needs to be cuddled and played with and held continually. If Donna leaves her on her playmat or in her bouncer to go to the bathroom or fix herself a drink or a snack, she screams. Donna is so tired that she can't stand the sound and rushes back to scoop her baby up, her own needs going unmet. Her mother mutters darkly about Donna making a rod for her own back, but Donna doesn't want to hear it. Mia is so tiny and dependent on her, looks at her with such trust: she deserves her full attention, and Donna is determined to give it to her, mindful of the baby books and their warnings about attachment and brain development. It won't be forever. It feels like forever.

Just after 6, Harvey finally messages her to say that he's leaving work. She looks at the traffic, and adds on an estimate of how long it'll take him at either end of the journey, giving her an ETA. 6:38. She watches the minutes tick over on her phone. 6.36. 6.37. 6.38. He's still not here, and she feels searing, unreasonable disappointment and anger.

She is yearning to sit alone, just for a few minutes, no one wanting anything from her, not being touched by anyone. If it had irked her late in pregnancy that he gets to go out in the world, having a taste of normal life, while she is stuck at home, it's ten times worse now that it's been going on for months.

She knows it isn't entirely rational. She wouldn't swap this time with Mia, and Harvey struggles with leaving his daughter. Yes, but he doesn't know what it's like to be alone with a baby day in, day out, says her less reasonable side.

At 6.50 she hears the door open and close, but her relief is rapidly replaced by anger when he doesn't appear instantly. He's probably gone to the bathroom, which is unbelievably selfish because... She checks herself, knows she isn't being fair, and does a reasonable job of greeting him warmly when he finally shows up at 6.53.

"How are my favourite girls?" He kisses Donna on the cheek and takes Mia, holding her in the air, blowing raspberries on her round little belly to make her chuckle.

Donna gives a brittle smile. "Fine thanks. You were a long time getting home." She manages not to make it sound like an accusation, just.

"Sorry, I got waylaid by Louis. He's organized drinks for his birthday tonight. He wanted me to go."

"Are you going to?"

"Nah. I'm going to stay here with you guys."

He takes Mia and puts her in a sling so she won't cry while he reheats leftovers in the microwave.

After dinner, Donna takes a bath while Harvey entertains Mia. Lying in the warm scented water, thinking. Harvey hasn't been out at all since the baby was born. She doesn't want him to feel hemmed in, and time out would do him good. She should encourage him to go. It's just one night.

She gets into her pajamas, and finds him watching Survivor with Mia sleeping on his chest.

"Did you want to go tonight?"

He pauses the TV. "It's Louis's drinks. With Louis's friends. I can live with skipping it."

"Yes but Mike and Rachel will be there. And Jessica."

"Yeah. I guess so." His phone chirps, and he picks it up, looks at it and smiles. She guesses it's one of them, messaging from the bar.

"You should go."

He looks back up at her quizzically. "I don't know, Donna. I don't want to leave it all to you. You've had her alone all day."

"She's sleeping right now, we'll be fine."

"OK. If you're sure. I won't be late, and I'll keep an eye on my phone. I can be back in 15 minutes if you need me." He transfers Mia to Donna's arms, makes sure she has the remote and a glass of water within reach, and heads out.

…

Donna has fed Mia, and managed to get her into her crib, but she can't sleep. Her brain has returned once again to the birth, replaying what happened, where she could have done things differently. She knows it's unhealthy, and grabs her phone to try and distract herself.

She opens Instagram, and her feed is full of shots of Louis, looking ridiculous in a party hat, drinking ridiculous cocktails in a crowded bar. She smiles, and is about to scroll on, when she sees a familiar face in the background. It's Scottie.

Dana is looking stylish as usual, in a tailored outfit and bright red lipstick, smiling up at a man whose big hand is splayed on her waist, his head tilted flirtatiously. Like he had just kissed her. Or is about to. With a jolt, she sees that it's Harvey.