Actually, forget what I said in my timeline post for a minute.
I want to explore the world where Baran has her son after the maternity ward attack.
She spends months helping women safely be mothers in unkind circumstances. Despite the danger and a country at war, these woman choose to be mothers, and to be the best mothers they can be for the next generation inheriting this messy world.
Baran never trusted herself to be a mother, always considered herself too much of a risk. Her marriage was already a little strained after baby talks kept going nowhere or Baran pushed it off for when her job wouldn’t be so chaotic and literally out of the country. She never thought motherhood would be in the cards for her, so if she can help other women achieve it, she will dedicate herself to them.
Yet, in spite of that effort, she watches many of the completely average yet incredibly brave women she’s gotten to know scream and choke on blood, some using their last moments to cover their small children in protection.
Baran lives. She gets to go home, and only home. Quarantine is still in effect for most people and she doesn’t have another job lined up. The walls of their house become too silent, letting her thoughts bounce against them, echoing the screaming and pleading that won’t stop playing in her head.
She won’t talk about it though, the guilt and feeling of useless gnawing at her psyche. After a few months of deflecting any concern about her wellbeing and she settles into at least some form of routine, the topic shifts to kids again. This time, Baran folds.
No matter how perfect she tries to be, the world will continue to fuck her over, so she says fuck you back and, not for the first time in her life, grabs something she wants. Months of idle hands and inescapable memories have Baran questioning what she’s even doing with her life. She needs to put something good into the world. Something she can see and feel, hug and smell, something to fucking live for again.
So they try for a baby, probably late 2020, when there’s news of the vaccine being produced and soon to be distributed.
They succeed basically first try. Baran sobs over the little plastic stick, convincing herself they’re only happy tears.
The pregnancy is relatively smooth all things considered. She checks in with her OBGYN and neurologist often, mostly through video call.
Although she does everything she can to maintain her physical health, those months were an emotional rollercoaster between want and guilt, and it isn’t till they find out they’re having a boy that the concept solidifies and Baran gets excited.
Until he’s actually born. At first, it’s absolutely perfect, and all Baran needs to regulate herself is to hold her son, but the days pass and it’s not enough. She falls into a deep postpartum depression.
How can a mother not be happy with a perfect healthy child? She feels selfish, bringing a child into the world to fix herself. Between that and the ptsd symptoms, it gets bad for a while. She struggles to care for herself on top of her son, barely bathing and taking her meds. Her spouse helps out some when not at work, but not nearly enough. Not that Baran ever asks for more. She has refused to open up so many times, pushed away any offered support, that Baran supposes she can’t be surprised when it stops being offered.
The beginning of the end is when she says she’s going back to work, having already lined up a job at the VA. This leads to a huge argument, partially because Baran made that decision without any prior discussion, and partially because their son is only a year old and her partner thinks that’s too young to start daycare, that he needs more time in a home setting with his mom. The argument essentially becomes an ultimatum.
Baran starts her job at the VA, and divorce proceedings start. She just can’t spend any more time in that house convincing herself she’s a bad mother. She needs to do something productive, make a difference again, and thinks her son is better off getting care and socialization in a stable, professional environment.
Working at the VA does some good in making her feel grounded again, but when the custody discussion comes around, it’s mandated that Baran go to therapy if she wants her share of their son.
Resentful at first, Baran would eventually be grateful for the forced help, knowing it was out of care her ex still and will always have for her wellbeing. The sessions let her finally unpack some of her trauma and guilt, plus with keeping herself active at work, massive strides are made for her mental health.
A few years later, Baran considers herself to be in a good place. She still loves the work she does, but spending time with her son becomes a priority again. No longer does she feel despair and guilt when holding him, but pure joy.
She and her ex are at a good place too, still very much caring for each other despite it all, but knowing there’s too much between them to make it work.
When their son is 4, Baran finally feels like herself again and a good mother on top. She’s ready for a new challenge, and takes a temporary ER attending position, hopeful for the future.
