Page 5 of Always Alchemy

He’s been following the baby around since I’ve been here and, according to Maddy, he’s been like this since they brought Jonny home from the hospital. Zach, who’s outside playing footie in the garden with Rafe and the girls, has called for him a couple of times, but Norm’s just raised his head briefly before settling back down again in his position next to the baby.

Zach’s often joked that he’s a useless guard dog, but he may have to eat his words now.

It’s possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

Maddy squats on the carpet so she can rub Norm’s ears.

‘Don’t wish the days away,’ I tell her now, taking a seat on the sofa and settling Rosalie on my lap so she’s facing the others. ‘Look at how big this one looks compared to Jonny. I feel like crying.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ She blows out a breath. ‘Please tell me it stops being quite so scary, though.’

‘It gets less and less scary,’ I say carefully, ‘but it’s gradual. Just give yourself some grace, okay? Between the hormones and the lack of sleep and not actually knowing how to do the simplest things—oh, and trying to keep them alive, it’s alot. Just do what you need to do to get by, and take help from everyone you can, okay?’

I may have found labour easier than I expected—all the hypnobirthing prep I did really came into its own during thebirth—but I can’t say the past four months have been a walk in the park. More like the most terrifying time of my life. The enormity of having the world’s most perfect baby and being responsible for keeping her alive has been a dark burden, colouring every moment of my days and nights for the first few weeks. It’s lifting, slowly but surely, and I’m beginning to breathe again.

Which is why I’ve given Maddy the best gift I could think of to give her—I’ve passed on our amazing maternity nurse, Josie, to Mads and Zach. Now that Rosalie is sleeping through the night and I’m more myself, I feel brave enough to forge ahead without her, and I hope and pray she’ll make Maddy’s experience of new motherhood even richer. Both of our mums may be hands-on, but it’s been decades since they cared for us as babies, and nothing beats a compassionate, competent professional.

I was seriously dubious about getting help. It felt like I was leaning away from parenting. But, four months on, I can admit that Josie helped me to lean in. She taught me so many things that would have taken me hours and days of tears and sweat to figure out on my own. She diagnosed Rosalie’s silent reflux within a couple of weeks and saved all three of us heartache.

Above all, she allowed Rafe and me to take the time to fall in love with our daughter without being pulled too far under by the terrifying weight of new, unfamiliar responsibilities.

We’re contentedly silent for a moment, Maddy petting Norm, and me holding Rosalie upright on my lap, and Jonny sleeping that independent, oblivious sleep of newborns that makes every new mother wonder how they can actually keep themself alive, all on their own, in their crib. Maddy’s mum, Verity, enters from the kitchen, whereshe’s been brewing us a herbal tea infusion, singingWho’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

‘Still holding off on baptising her?’ Verity asks me wryly, breaking off from her song to nod at Rosalie.

I bark out a laugh. ‘God, yeah. You too, Mads?’

She grimaces. ‘Yep. Loyola and St Cecilia’s didn’t do a great job with any of us, did they?’ she says, referencing the schools we and our husbands went to.

‘I thought Zach might want that friend of his—the priest—to baptise him.’

‘Nah. It’s not about Fr John, however lovely he is. It’s about starting Jonny off with a blank slate, so he can choose whatever belief system he wants later.’

‘That’s ironic,’ I muse, ‘given that’sexactlywhat baptism is supposed to provide—a clean slate, I mean.’

Verity laughs. To this tired new mama, she looks even more incredible than usual. Her rich auburn hair is perfectly styled in beachy waves, and her makeup is immaculate. ‘Right? I mean, one look at these two little monkeys and you can tell they’re just riddled with Original Sin.’

‘Naughtiest babiesever.’I bend my head so I can brush my lips over Rosalie’s temple. The scent of her skin is still the most miraculous thing in the world to me.

‘Yeah. I think we’ll take our chances with Jonny’s eternal soul.’ Maddy pauses. ‘Have you spoken to your dad about it at all?’

‘Nope.’ I pop the P before kissing Rosalie again. I have one hand splayed across her tiny torso and the other held out in front of her so she can wrap her tiny fingers around one of mine. I love her little hands. They’re so chubby and soft and perfect, with those delicious rings of fat around her wrists and their tiny shell-like nails.

‘It’s all hovering there in the awkward depths ofThings We Don’t Discuss,’ I continue. ‘I don’t know if it’s just me, but I swear I can feel it hanging in the air every time I see him. I’m actually staggered he hasn’t brought it up.’

‘Did your mum say something to him?’ Maddy wants to know.

‘She told me she warned him not to go there, that my parenting choices are not his jurisdiction. She’s been reading that Brené Brown book you gave her, Verity.’

Maddy grins. She looks thrilled. ‘Ugh, that’s so good. I’m so happy you guys are finally proper friends.’

Not going to lie: it was tough for me growing up to know that my parents barely tolerated Verity and Maddy’s stepdad, Justin. Not only has Verity always been incredibly kind to me, but she’s one of the most well-adjusted people I know.

With hindsight, it was that very issue that had Dad judging her vociferously at every opportunity and Mum running for the hills. A woman who was unhappy with the terms of her marriage and walked out, choosing a man who saw her properly and supported her? Dangerous, powerful stuff indeed.

Over the past couple of years, though, Mum has actually sought Verity out. I made her watch a few of Verity’s Instagram reels after I had that massive showdown with Dad over choosing my own belief system, when she was finally in a place to absorb Verity’s wisdom and advice. By the time Dex came out to my parents, Mum was stronger, more open, in her heart than I’d ever seen her, and she and Verity are firm friends now.

They may or may not have cemented that friendship by getting absolutely hammered together at our wedding in France. The one Dad refused to attend on the grounds of itnot being a union in the eyes of God. The one where Mum gave me away.

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