Susan let the thick book fall out of her hands, buried her face there and wept.
“Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, “Susan”. Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. “You have listened to fears, child,” said Aslan. “Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?”
“A little, Aslan,” Susan said.
Oh, how she wished she was the Susan in the book and not the Susan that she was. If only someone could breathe away her fears, made her forget them.
She was at a loss of what to do as she looked at the one-month-old baby. She was sleeping peacefully. She was a good size and in good health. There was nothing to fear. Yet, Susan felt a pang of panic in the pit of her stomach. Joy, her psychologist, said it was post-natal depression. Was it? She remembered feeling this way even before she was pregnant. And many times too.
How was she able to bring up a tiny human being? She cannot, Susan thought. What if she dropped her? A million of fearful thoughts ran through her mind till she thought she was going mad.
Then she picked up her pillow, gave it a good hug. Susan breathed in deeply and slowly, willing her fears to go away. She looked at the clock, 20 minutes before the baby’s next feed. Susan laid her head down on the pillow and closed her eyes.
She did not need to do much willing before she fell into a deep slumber.