Dear Diary,
It was a harsh shout from my brother that finally ripped me out of the morning haze. I sat up on the narrow guestroom bed, ears straining against the thin wall. For the past fortnight Ive been staying with my older brother Michael while I hunt for work and a flat in this town. The move was tough, but there was no alternativemy hometown offered no prospects.
A sudden, piercing infant cry filled the flat. Fourmonthold Tommy had woken up from his parents argument. I grimaced, pulled my robe tighter and slipped onto the edge of the bed.
I’m heading to an interview, Lena, Michaels wife, said in a low tone.
An interview? Are you out of your mind? Michael barked, raising his voice. You have a baby! What job could you possibly be thinking of? Your place is here, with the child!
I waited for Lenas reply, but the flat fell silent except for Tommys whimpering. Then the front door slammed shut. Lena was gone.
I left the room and went to the kitchen. Michael stood in the middle, halfrocking the screaming infant in his arms, his face a mix of anger and helplessness.
That’s how it always goes, he muttered when he saw me. She abandons the child and runs off to her own affairs.
I quietly took Tommy from his grip. The little boy slowly settled, burying his cheek against my shoulder. Michael slumped into a chair, his hands rubbing his face.
Lenas lost her mind, he continued, staring at nothing. How can she leave a baby and think about a job? At least my holiday started, so I can look after Tommy.
I gently rocked the sleeping baby, pondering his words.
Mike, perhaps you should talk to Lena calmly, without shouting, I suggested softly. Maybe shes dealing with somethingpostnatal depression is common. She might need professional help.
He waved me off as if swatting a fly.
Depression? No. Lenas always been a free spirit, a careerchaser. I hoped that after the birth shed settle down, become a proper mother. Shes not changing. She doesnt care about the child!
I wanted to argue, but stayed quiet. Tommy finally drifted off, and I carefully placed him in his cot.
Lena didnt return until evening. As I was tucking Tommy in, I heard the lock click. She passed the nursery without looking inside, then went to the kitchen to make herself dinner in silence. Michael sat in the living room, eyes fixed on the telly, refusing to speak to her.
The atmosphere grew unbearable. I retreated to my room and dialed Mum.
Mum, you wont believe whats happening, I whispered, recounting the days events.
She sighed heavily.
Dear, Lenas been like that since the baby was born. Michael has complained to me many times. It seems her maternal instinct never woke up. Poor boy, hes suffering. I cant imagine how the child feels with a living motherhe senses everything
After that call I lay in bed for a long while, bewildered. I remembered Lena before pregnancysweet, caring, the kind of woman Michael adored. Now she was cold toward her own child and husband. Something was terribly wrong.
Lena would disappear from the house for hours each day, leaving Michael alone with the infant. He took Tommy to the shop, on walks, trying to juggle childcare and chores. I helped where I could, but I knew this couldnt go on forever.
A week later Lena came back with a bright look Id never seen. For the first time I saw a hint of a smile.
Ive got a job, she announced at dinner.
Michael froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, his face turning a shade of red.
Youre kidding! he snarled. You have a fourmonthold! You should be looking after him, not running to an office!
Lena answered coldly, Its my life.
He leapt from his seat. Selfish! You only think of yourself! Thats wrong! Youre a motheryour place is beside the child!
I watched Lena shrink into herself, then silently slip into the bedroom. We never saw her again that night.
The next day Michael and I took Tommy for a walk in the park. Michael pushed the pram, never stopping his complaints.
See how she treats him? Our own son, and she doesnt care. She never holds him, never kisses, never hugs. What kind of mother is that? Not a mother at alljust a cuckoo!
I stayed silent, unsure what to say. I felt sorry for my brother, yet something inside told me the story was more tangled than it seemed.
We returned home after a couple of hours. The flat was suspiciously quiet. I flicked the hallway light on.
Lena? Are you home? I called.
Only silence answered. I moved from room to roomthe kitchen empty, the lounge likewise. Michael, with Tommy in his arms, headed toward the bedroom. I heard him gasp sharply and hurried to him.
He stood before an open wardrobe, half the shelves bare. Lenas belongings were gone.
Shes left Michael whispered, his voice hoarse.
He sank onto the bed, still cradling his son, his shoulders trembling.
Ungrateful! After everything Ive given herthis flat, love, marriage, a child! he shouted. I gave her everything and she just walks out!
I sat beside him, trying to calm him, while a dreadful feeling tightened in my chest.
Mike, what could have driven her to this? Tell me honestly what happened between you two.
His eyes reddened, and he stayed silent, gathering his thoughts.
The pregnancy was unplanned, he finally said. Lena didnt want a baby. She said she wasnt ready, that she wanted to focus on her career. I pressed, saying we were both thirty, it was time to settle, have a family. She agreed, but after the birth she never fell in love with the child. I hoped motherhood would awaken her feelings, that shed bond with Tommy. Instead she drifted further away.
My eyes widened. The picture Id built of Lena as simply temperamental shattered. She hadnt just been capricious; shed been forced into motherhood she never wanted.
Mike was all I could manage.
A few days later Michaels holiday ended. He returned to work, effectively shifting the care of Tommy onto me. I didnt objectTommy was innocent in his parents conflict.
A week passed. One morning Michael burst in, waving a stack of papers.
Shes filing for divorce! he roared. She wants to renounce parental rights over Tommy! She said on the phoneIf I wanted the child, Ill take care of him myself! I have a job, a flat, I can manage. She doesnt want any of it!
I kept rocking the baby, listening to his tirade. Each day I understood Lena a little more.
The following week I was practically alone with the infant. Michael came home, ate dinner, and collapsed on the bed. On weekends he slept or watched telly. All the household duties fell to me. I began to see why Lena had fled. Michael contributed nothing at home, only demanded.
Finally, good news arrived for me: I got a job. I found a modest onebed flat not far from the office. It was time to move out of that house. Michael didnt take the news well.
Youre abandoning us too! What about Tommy? Who will look after him? How can you just leave?
I met his accusation with calm. I repeated Lenas words:
You wanted the child, Mike. Now take responsibility yourself. Dont push it onto others.
I stood in my new flat, arranging my belongings. The quiet was a balm after weeks of infant cries and my brothers outbursts. I pulled out a photograph from a boxa childhood picture of Michael and me, both beaming. I ran my finger over it, pondering how even the people we idolise can turn out selfish.
I placed the photo on a shelf and turned away. A new life stretched before me, my own at last.
Lesson learned: you cannot offload the duty of caring for another onto anyone else; responsibility belongs to the one who chose it.
