He Sees the Spring but Not the One He Lost

From the day I was diagnosed with postpartum depression, every single day, Felix guarded me against killing myself. The piano at home gathered dust, and a soundproof door was installed on the nursery. The rooms were covered with notes meant to encourage me. No matter how hard the baby cried, Felix always went to me first, to me falling apart. "Don't be afraid. I'll be right here while you slowly get better." Until the baby's first-birthday party drew near, and Felix was busy going out to sample the menu.