That morning, after nursing Harriet and settling her back into her crib, Frida crawled on top of Gust and rubbed her hips against him until he became hard. They’d only had sex twice since the doctor cleared her for intercourse, each time shockingly painful. She hoped he used condoms with the girl, that the girl was fickle. Maybe she wasn’t deterred by wedding rings or infants, but the girl would surely tire of him. Frida had seen this happen with friends in New York who dated girls in their twenties. There would be a passionate affair, rekindled vigor, a sudden engagement followed by the girl deciding to flee to the Galápagos Islands. Adventure travel was often the excuse, as were spiritual awakenings.
After they made love, she told him, “Get rid of her.”
He sobbed and apologized, and for a few weeks, it seemed as if they could save their marriage. But he refused to give her up. He claimed to be in love.
“I have to follow my heart,” he said. He began talking about co-parenting before Frida was ready to concede.
He said, “I still love you. I’ll always love you. We’ll always be a family.”
Frida came to understand that Susanna was the barnacle and Gust was the tall ship, though she never thought Susanna would win, not when Frida had the baby. If only she’d had the chance to prove herself as a mother, she likes to think. Harriet had just started smiling, was only sleeping for three-hour stretches. Frida’s days were spent covered in spit-up and drool, rushing to clean the house or cook or do laundry between rounds of nursing and diaper changes. She wasn’t done losing the baby weight. The wound on her belly still felt fresh.
She assumed that Susanna was feral, might have let Gust come on her face. Might have offered him anal. Frida said no to the face and no to anal, though she regrets it now. The thought that she should have opened her ass for Gust preoccupies her, as do all the things she should have done to make him stay.
If she’d been healthier. Easier to live with. If she’d stayed on Zoloft, hadn’t relapsed. If he hadn’t experienced her hysterical crying spells, her anxiety spirals. If she’d never shouted at him. But nothing was 100 percent safe, her doctor said. Did Frida really want to take that risk? Her OB warned her about links between maternal antidepressant use and adolescent depression in children, links with autism. The baby might be jittery. The baby might have trouble nursing. The baby might have a low birth weight, a lower Apgar score.
Gust was so proud of her for going off medication. He seemed to respect her more. “Our baby should know the real you,” he said.
Her need for antidepressants always made her parents feel like they’d failed her. She doesn’t talk about it with them. Even now, she hasn’t asked her doctor for a new prescription, hasn’t tried to find a psychiatrist or therapist, doesn’t want anyone to know how badly the house of her mind functions on its own.
She let Gust talk her into a no-fault divorce. He convinced her that having marital misconduct on the legal record would be damaging for Harriet. When Harriet is older, Gust said, they’ll explain to her that Mommy and Daddy decided they’re better off as friends.
Soon after claiming Gust, Susanna began voicing her opinions. She’d been a camp counselor in high school. In college, she’d nannied. She’d spent lots of time with her nieces and nephews. Emails began to appear, then texts. Frida should eliminate all plastic from her household. Exposure to plastics is linked to cancer. She should install a water filtration system so Harriet won’t be exposed to heavy metals and chlorine in her drinking water or at bath time. She should make sure all of Harriet’s clothing is made from organic cotton in factories that provide a living wage. She should buy organic skin care and diapers and burp cloths and bedding, chemical-free wipes. Would Frida consider switching to cloth diapers? Plenty of Susanna’s sister’s mom friends used cloth diapers. She should try elimination communication. Wasn’t that how they did things in China? Frida should have some healing, grounding crystals in the nursery. Susanna would be happy to give Frida some rose quartz to start her off. The crib at Frida’s house came from IKEA, and didn’t Frida know that particle board was made of sawdust and formaldehyde? By the time Susanna began nagging her about the benefits of long-term breastfeeding and babywearing and co-sleeping, Frida was moved to pick up the phone and rail at Gust, who said: “Remember, it’s coming from a good place.”
She made him promise not to let Susanna experiment on their baby. No early potty learning, no crystals, no co-sleeping, no pre-chewing each bite of Harriet’s food. In the past year, Susanna earned her certification as a nutritionist, intended to complement her occasional work as a Pilates instructor. Frida often worries that Susanna is mixing chlorella and spirulina into Harriet’s food and treating Harriet with essential oils or detoxifying mud baths when she has a runny nose or ear infection. They’ve had heated arguments about vaccines and herd immunity. Gust has already removed his mercury fillings, and so has Susanna. Soon, they’ll try for a baby of their own, but first they’re going to heal their cavities through herbs and meditation and good intentions.