Do Opposites Attract?
Navigating polarity as new parents in a new relationship
The babies are crying, Maverick’s howling and Pippi is hyperventilating. The kettle that is my nervous system is whistling on the hot stove. Stop the noise, stop the noise, stop the noise.
You try to help but it’s not fast enough. After you pick her up, Brynn cries even harder. My ears acutely register the doppler effect as you walk away with the baby. She’s desperate for me. So is Cora.
I lift Cora out of the bassinet and she stops crying instantly. My superpower is a blessing and a curse. I cradle one baby and chase after the other.
“Here — ” I tuck Cora in the crook of my left arm and extend my right. You place Brynn in my open arm, a little too quickly.
The noise has stopped but the energy has only moved. You trudge away with slumped shoulders and there are words from your lips I cannot hear, but can feel. The air is heavy. My hands are full. Something hurts. My body, my feelings — it’s all the same — or, I can’t tell the difference.
The fire is out but the house is scorched. This isn’t right. I think we should be celebrating my heroic efforts. Where’s my applause?
I sit down on the sofa and nurse my infants into oblivion. I could take this moment to pause…
