It Would Be Fine, But it Would Never Be Okay
I knew it wouldn’t work with my son’s father long before I realized it.
I hadn’t expected the office dynamic to change so drastically in the two-and-a-half months since I had been on maternity leave. My new boss, who had moved across the hall from me, kept her door closed most of the time. The other office doors remained open, but the usual buzz of students had died.
I cleared some files off my desk. Without students, who provided the heartbeat of the building, I felt drained. I put my head down. It couldn’t hurt to rest for a few minutes. If someone came up the stairs, I would hear them.
My phone vibrated, jolting me up. Seeing that it was my sitter, Katie, I answered immediately. “Hi, Katie. Is everything okay?”
“Sorry to bother you at work, but I’m having a really hard time feeding Vincent. He can’t seem to breathe very well. Every time I put the bottle in his mouth, he struggles.”
Vincent struggling to eat wasn’t something new. I had a terrible time breastfeeding and switched to formula after only a month. We had gone through four formulas before realizing he had a milk protein allergy. Finally, the pediatrician prescribed formula. Then, we went to a pediatric gastroenterologist to get his acid reflux under control…
