Usually, newborns would suffer from colic or other uncomfortable conditions in the first three months. Aristotle was almost three months old, just a few days shy from it too. However, there were no signs of colic. He ate, drank and excreted normally. This really made her feel helpless.
Mark sat next to her with a lifeless look in his eyes, clearly having a headache from all of this noise. This pushed Arianne, who was a new mother, even further into her wits’ end. “What should we do? Smore won’t let Mary hold him, but he still cries even when I’m holding him. Just what does he want?”
Mark rubbed the space between his brows in an attempt to massage his headache away. “Give him to me. I’ll take him for a walk around the garden…”
She really was at her wits’ end and was willing to try anything at this point. Mark wasn’t the nurturing type, but she was exhausted. Having some peace and quiet sounded like a good idea.
During the past month, she had voluntarily set aside all intentions to start work again because as Aristotle’s cries grew increasingly severe, she realized that she really didn’t have the energy to go back to work again. She couldn’t bring herself to follow her dreams if she couldn’t even take care of her own son. As expected, life wasn’t as smooth-sailing as it seemed.
Aristotle’s cries continued in the garden downstairs. She stood by the window and watched as Mark patiently paced around with the little one in his arms, gently trying to calm him. This continued for about half an hour before the world finally returned to peace again. Soon, Mark softly and gently carried Aristotle back into the house, like a thief, then handed him over to Mary. “He’s asleep… Shh, don’t wake him. I’m going crazy.”
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