‘Of course. One birth in 600. Frequently no prior history. More common in primagravidae. First births,’ I explained.
‘Thank you for the clarification, Doctor,’ she said. ‘Anyhow, I lost her and the baby. She killed the baby and committed suicide.’
‘You failed to diagnose the psychosis?’
‘I never saw it. The husband didn’t report anything wrong. He was…insensitive, so insensitive he didn’t notice his wife was psychotic.’
‘And you considered me capable of similar insensitivity?’
‘I know you’re trying to do the right thing. But I thought Rosie might be at risk of depression and you wouldn’t pick it up.’
‘Postnatal depression occurs in between ten and fourteen per cent of births. But I’m adept at administering the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale.’
‘She completed the questionnaire?’
‘I asked her the questions.’
‘Trust me, Don, you’re not adept. But I’ve met Rosie. She’s remarkably robust, probably a result of her early life in Italy. She’s got your number. She obviously loves you, she’s got purpose and structure through her medical studies, she’s worked through her family issues, she’s got a good network of friends.’
It took me a moment to remember she was talking about Sonia.
‘What if she wasn’t studying? And didn’t have friends? And didn’t love me? Surely even the support of an insensitive husband would be better than zero.’
Lydia finished her coffee and stood up. ‘Luckily that’s not the position you’re in. But, paradoxically, having a husband like that is worse than having no supports. He may well keep the woman from taking some positive action by herself. In my opinion—and there’s research to support it—she’d be better off without him.’
29
I spent the next day at work, alone, attempting to deal with the problem generated by Lydia’s observations. I undertook some supplementary research on the desirable attributes of a father.
Non-violence was at the top of the list. My actions had led to arrest and referral to an anti-violence class. My meltdown was virtually indistinguishable from the outbreaks of anger that Jack the Biker had discussed. I did not consider myself a threat to others, but I presumed many violent people would make the same self-assessment.
Drug Use—Lack of. My alcohol consumption, already at the highest daily limit I had been able to find, had risen significantly during the pregnancy. This was doubtless a response to stress. Jack the Biker was right: it probably made me more vulnerable to meltdowns.
Emotional stability. One word. Meltdown.
Sensitivity to Child’s Needs. One word. Empathy. My most serious weakness as a human being.
Sensitivity to Partner’s Emotional Needs. See previous.
Reflective Functioning. As a scientist probably good, but the fact that I had been unable to find a solution to my relationship problem suggested I could not apply it to the domestic environment.
Social Supports. This was the only redeeming item in an otherwise disastrous list of shortcomings. My family was in Australia, but I was fortunate to have incredible support from Gene, Dave, George, Sonia, Claudia and the Dean. And, of course, I had professional help from Lydia.
Honesty was not included in the list, but was obviously a desirable attribute. I had hoped that when the Playground Incident was resolved, I could share it with Rosie. But it was an instance of weird behaviour, and weird behaviour was no longer acceptable.
I created a spreadsheet and it rapidly became obvious that the negatives outweighed the positives. As a potential father, I was manifestly unsuitable, and it was increasingly clear that I was no longer required in my role as a partner.
Further research confirmed that it was not unusual for relationships to fail during pregnancy or shortly after the birth. The woman’s attention naturally shifted to the baby, at the expense of the partner. Alternatively, the male partner wanted to avoid the responsibility of fatherhood. The first had definitely occurred in our case. And while I was willing to take on the responsibilities of fatherhood, I had been rated as incapable by both a professional therapist and my wife. And now by my own self-assessment.
My research provided some guidance on separation: better results were achieved by swift and definite action rather than prolonged discussion. This was consistent with the portrayal of relationship termination in two films I had watched during the Rosie Project: Casablanca and The Bridges of Madison County. In keeping with these films, I prepared a short speech of nine pages outlining the situation and the inevitability of my conclusion. It was emotionally painful work, but the process of articulating the argument helped to clarify it in my mind.
Jogging home, with the speech prepared, I allowed my thoughts to wander. I had spent sixteen months and three days married to Rosie. Falling in love with Rosie had been the single best event of my life. I had worked as hard as I could to maintain the situation, but—like Dave with Sonia—I had always suspected that there had been some sort of cosmic mistake that would be discovered and that I would be alone again. Now it had happened.
It was, of course, not the fault of the cosmos but of my own limitations. I had simply got too many things wrong, and the damage had accumulated.
I left work early to arrive home before Gene. Once again, Rosie was on the mattress. This time she was reading, but it was a formulaic romance novel of the kind my aunt read. I had made Rosie so unhappy that she was seeking relief in fantasy.
I began my speech. ‘Rosie, it seems obvious that things are not going well with us. There is some fault—’
She interrupted. ‘Don’t say any more. Don’t talk about faults. I was the one who got pregnant without talking to you. I think I know what you’re going to say. I’ve been thinking the same thing. I know how hard you’ve tried, but this relationship has always been about two independent people who had fun together, not about a conventional family.’
‘Why did you get pregnant then?’
‘I guess because having a baby is so important to me, and I had a fantasy that we could be parents together. I didn’t think it through.’
Rosie said more, but my ability to process speech, especially speech about emotions, had been impaired by my own emotions. I realised I had hoped that Rosie would disagree with me—possibly even laugh at some error in my thinking—and things would return to normal.
Finally she said, ‘What are we going to do?’
‘You indicated you would return to Australia,’ I said. ‘Obviously I will provide financial support for Bud as per convention.’
‘I mean, now. Can I stay here?’
‘Of course.’ I was not going to make Rosie homeless. She had no close friends in New York besides Judy Esler. And I did not want the Eslers to know about the separation yet. I still had an irrational hope that the problem would be resolved. ‘I’ll stay with Dave and Sonia. Temporarily.’
‘It won’t need to be long. I’ll book a flight home. Before they won’t let me fly.’