༻ Livia ༺

It took seven hours.

Seven hours of contractions, one brutal squeeze after the other, growing ever more relentless and unforgiving. Seven hours of confusion, lost in a haze of pain, unsure which part of her mind was telling the truth and which were her own delusions. Seven hours of doctors and midwives rushing around her, their voices a blur, feeding her a constant stream of instructions she could barely grasp. Seven hours of fluorescent lights burning harsh and bright above her eyes. Seven hours of hearing the screams of other women down the hall, raw and desperate, animal-like.

Seven hours of breathing in air thick with the scent of sweat and blood. Seven hours of nausea that churned in her stomach at a constant. Seven hours of pain that stole her breath, leaving her gasping for relief that never came. Seven hours of fear, taunting her at her every weakness.

Seven hours of feeling more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life.

The youngest midwife - one of the newbies on the job - cradled the squirming newborn gently, lifting him into the air to admire the sniffling child. He wailed loudly, his tiny pink body wriggling in protest as she cooed softly, voice filled with wonder and excitement.

"Oh my, what a beautiful, handsome boy you have, Ms. Astor," she exclaimed, her hazel eyes sparkling with warmth and kindness. Just as her senior had demonstrated, she moved him to the sink with careful hands to wipe away the remnants of birth while he kicked and mewled irritably. She worked quickly and tenderly, as though savouring the moment. It was one of her first deliveries. She looked up at the senior midwife, waiting for her approval, before bundling the little one up in soft, hospital blankets and placing him in his mother's arms. A perfect bundle of life. Strong and healthy. She smiled down at the pair, hands clasped with joy. "Have you chosen a name for him yet?"

Livia didn't react. She held the baby boy awkwardly in her hands like she had just been given a loaf of bread that she didn't know what to do with. Her eyes, dull and disinterested, fell upon the hospital window, gazing into the distant cityscape. There was the faint hum of outdoor noise, traffic and cars blaring their horns in dissatisfaction, children giggling and screaming with laughter, work men shouting to each other, music spilling from a nearby truck. The midwife's smile became strained as she stood in awkward silence waiting for her patient to show signs of life. Livia blinked slowly, still not paying attention to neither her or her child.

"Miss?"

"Where's Sarem?" she asked, voice eerily monotone.

"Is that your husband? I'm sure he'll be here shortly. The traffic is quite busy today! I dare say he'll be running through those doors any moment."

"I see."

Livia turned back from the window and finally looked at the infant in her arms, her expression unchanging. The newborn's weak eyes focused on her, his starfish-shaped hands gripping the air and reaching up to touch her face with innocent curiosity. It was the sort of heartfelt moment that would bring a mother to tears, to fuel their maternal instincts, but Livia... felt nothing.

If anything, this child had been the source her pain for months and, without Sarem here to view the accomplishment, there was no pay off. No happiness. It was just another burden she had to deal with now until Sarem made an appearance.

For the most part, Koda was a normal baby. He had no issues latching on for milk nor did he have any health complications. However, like many infants, he was terribly clingy - specifically toward his mother. Whenever she put him back in his crib or left the room to do something, he would scream and wail incessantly, his little feet kicking in the air and arms reaching out for a comfort that would never come.

Both Sarem and Livia were neglectful parents. While Sarem was entirely absent with business meetings, work and secret affairs, Livia remained the rampant obsessor, abandoning Koda's needs to stalk Sarem and monitor his activity with other women.

They were not yet married, despite Sarem promising Livia he would earlier in her pregnancy, and this only provoked Livia's abnormal behaviour further. Their relationship danced between hardcore sex and domestic violence each and every night. Books, bottles and accusations were thrown about wildly, with Livia nearly always being the aggressor. She insisted for Sarem to marry her soon now that she was no longer pregnant, but he kept making up excuses and delaying it, only just winning her over with flirtation and sweet talk.

Sarem did not participate in the raising of his child. Whenever Koda began bawling in his crib again, Sarem would simply leave the apartment to smoke, hoping that Livia would find a way to settle him down.

At first, Livia DID try to take care of Koda. She followed the rules, did what she was supposed to. But there was no love in her actions. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't pry out any sort of motherly instinct from herself as much as she wanted to. And yet, everything felt upon her. Not even her own birth mother offered to help her out with Koda.

And, God, he would just cry and cry and cry and cry. Nonstop. Everyday. If she wasn't in his line of sight, he would start up again, producing a fountain of tears, waiting to be coddled and comforted and fed.

There were temporary ways around this. Ways that Livia had learned on secret forums on the web.

User_1038563286 Put a bit of alcohol in your baby's drink. Mine sleeps for hours undisturbed when I do it. Trust me. It works.

User_0940918236 OK. I'll try that. It won't kill them, will it?

User_1038563286 Nope. Just don't go too crazy with it obviously.

But these supposed tips and tricks from other struggling mothers would only be a temporary fix to Koda's behaviour. As got a little older, he became more resistant to the contents of the bottle and was back to waking up in the middle of the night to torment his parents.

Livia would look at him in disgust as he suckled on her bosom, watching him like was some sort of parasite clinging on to her. A leech that needed to be disposed of. And yet, even with Livia's firmness toward him, Koda grew only more attached to her. Even as she was carrying him in one arm and screaming at Sarem through the phone with the other, he would gaze at her with large, adoring eyes, little hands reaching to feel and play with her long, dark hair.

And maybe, if he was lucky, she would look down and acknowledge him. No words, no smiles, but a moment where her attention was focused on to him.

"Stop touching my hair."