LIVES ENTWINED

"Shh.. You'll wake up the baby", she complained and I immediately turned down the volume of the television running in the background, unnoticed by anyone till now. She went back to rocking the cradle, singing a lullaby so softly that I could barely hear it. My eyes bore into the white walls but my mind was far away, to a time when everything was right, everything was perfect. 

My newly started business was doing better than great. Amy had started teaching at the university and she loved it. Madly in love with each other with no worries about money we decided it was time to take the next step, to become parents. Fear, excitement and many more emotions swirled inside us as we saw that tiny twin pink lines in the pregnancy test. From that moment on we changed but only for the better, as the love for this unborn child grew within us, so did our love for each other. 

I guess she was more in love with the little one than I, spending all her time both asleep and awake with her. Yes, it was a she. l still remember us holding each other's hands tightly in anticipation as the doctor told us. I wiped off the tiny tear of joy as it was threatening to trace a path across her cheek and she did the same for me. 

The months of anticipation, difficulties and little preparations went swiftly. The nursery was painted, the cradle was built and the toys were bought. Soon enough I was driving Amy to the hospital to have the baby, our baby. 

Throughout the labour I wished there was something more I could have done for my sweetheart other than just hold her hands as she went through her labour. I felt foolish just mouthing words of encouragement while my beloved writhed in pain. After what seemed like an eternity the doctor placed a bundle in my hands and in that bundle was the tiniest face I ever saw. My whole world came to a standstill as I looked at her, nothing seemed to matter more than her. She was ours to care, to cherish and most importantly to love and so we named her Esme. 

The weeks after were tiring, to be frank. But me and Amy were too thrilled to let it get to us, too often. I shared my duties as much as I could. I lost count of the number of diapers we changed and lullabies we sang. I even made it a point to wake up for nighttime feedings though I took a good ten to fifteen minutes to reach the nursery whereas Amy was up and about in five. Everything was perfect until it was not. 

I was dragging myself out of bed for the nighttime feed. Amy had already left the room. The only consolation was that these nighttime feeds would soon be something of the past. Suddenly I heard screaming and crying. I heard Amy calling out for me and I rushed to the nursery. She was in hysterics telling me Esme was not breathing. I couldn't move, I knew we needed to go to the hospital, I willed my muscles to move but they refused. I stood at the same spot watching as Amy cried, telling me to get the keys while holding our daughter in her hands. I still remember that image as if it was just minutes past. I do not remember how long I stood but somehow I got out of my trance, took the car keys and hurried to the hospital with Amy and Esme. 

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome also known as crib death, atleast that's what the doctors told us. Our happiness was shattered, our perfect life destroyed and that's the only explanation we got. We wished for something or someone to blame on, for a moment I even wished we could blame ourselves. Our brains were filled with thousands of what ifs that always ended with a blank wall. My mind was a prisoner of my heart, screaming and tearing at his hair, willing to escape from the dark alley that it ended up in. But outwards my face was blank, I couldn't even cry. And Amy, she was inconsolable, my darling, my love, how I wished I could take away our pain. We only had each other but we did not know how to cross the abyss of pain that separated us. 

The funeral was arranged to be done at the earliest. It was to be a close casket affair, I did not wish to look at my Esme without the lively blush that never left her cheek. I dressed in the black funeral clothes that someone had bought for me. Amy was already dressed and she was in the nursery. I went to go and call her. I opened the door to the nursery, her back was turned to me, she was cooing to a bundle in her arms and as she turned around, bile rose in my throat as I saw Esme. My face turned white. Amy was smiling, a crazy smile which chilled me to the bones. She said, " We can go to the funeral now. She won't wake till we reach back." Amy gently lowered the dead child into its crib and came and took my hand. I was too stunned to do anything as she led me out of the room. She was describing in detail of what a sad affair it was that the Summer family lost a child at such an early age. We went to the church and sat through the service. I saw an empty casket being lowered into the burial ground, while all our friends and family bid farewell to Esme they believed was in the casket, as I held my wife who somehow made herself believe that the casket held our neighbour's little boy. Then we returned home. Slowly the party trickled down and finally it was just me, my wife and my dead child. 

How could my life change from the feeling of being on top of the world to begging the world to kill me as to set me free? Amy continued to love the dead child as if nothing happened. She changed its dress, cuddled it, sang to it, kissed it. I was constantly nauseated and threw up each time Amy brought it near me. I tried getting rid of it but she was always with it. She was frightened that something might happen to the child if left alone. She became more and more obsessed, to a point where she started sleeping in the nursery. I couldn't bear to look at her. I wanted her to get help but she wouldn't leave the house, then in desperation when I tried to force her she took out a knife she had hid in her dress, for God knows how long, and threatened to kill herself. The knife and the dead child were her constant companions. I was lost. I discouraged all visitors to the house. I shut myself up with my crazy wife and dead daughter. All my business dealings shifted to my subordinates. It seemed that night not only killed my daughter but me and my wife as well. 

Her footsteps as she climbed the stairs to the nursery brought me back to my purpose. It was going to be dinner soon. The only time my wife was free of one of her companions, the only time she resembled, atleast in part, my lovely Amy. I warmed the glass of milk that she always drank after her dinner and slipped the powdered sleeping pills into it, perhaps more than necessary. I laid the table as she came downstairs. She came and sat on her chair and kept down the knife in her hand, but very close so I wouldn't get any ideas. As we had our dinner, somewhere amongest the unkempt hair, untidy clothes and glint of craziness in her eyes, I saw glimpses of the woman I fell in love with and my heart cried in longing. Soon the dinner was over, she took the glass of milk and drank it, with each gulp, I felt a gut-wrenching pain inside that I did not voice. I watched till the last drop vanished. It was done. She went upstairs to the child and I cleared the dishes. I did not know how much time it took for these things to happen. I went to my armchair and dozed off. 

I woke the next morning. Did I regret yesterday? I do not know. Emotions ceased to exist for me a while back. Life was not worth the effort. I climbed the stairs to the nursery and opened it. The strong smell hit me, I never got used to the smell of death though I shared my home with it for so many weeks. I completely ignored

 the crib for I never considered the dead child as my Esme. My eyes went straight to the women beside it, finally her face was peaceful. I went near her, gave her a parting kiss to her temple and whispered, "this life had lost its meaning for you and for me. I hope with my entire being that you'll be holding our daughter close to you in a land where death and sorrow do not have any place. I sought the meaning of love and you were my answer, I wanted to know it's depth and you showed me. My dear Amy, I shall love you with all the pieces of my being for eternity. " I took the knife from her, cut both my wrists and gently kept it away. Then laid down beside her. As life ebbed away from me I lovingly stared at my life which had already left me.