i see

They both blamed themselves for what had happened.

That was one thing they both had in common; the little voice in both their heads that told them constantly that they would fail. Perhaps it had been a learned trait, a mental anaphylaxis brought on by a number of causes. Physical limitations, the reactions of others, losing control of heavy responsibility, a family that never really cared... Whatever it was, for them, every move they made seemed to always have an underlying fear. Failure and disappointment have consequences, for themselves and more importantly for others. When everything else in their lives had gone wrong, why should they expect the best?

She thought to herself, why did I make this decision? It was stupid and impulsive. I feel like I don't even have a handle over myself most of the time. How am I supposed to care for a child? One mistake would be all it takes to ruin her, and mistakes are all I make. I will lose control. I will hurt her. I already have. My irresponsibility did this.

He thought to himself, I thought I could do this without ruining it, but I can't. I was defective from the start, and now I have pushed it onto her. She deserves better than taking on my weaknesses and insecurities. I have already made life much more difficult for her, and she will have her dreams crushed, just as I did.

The baby girl looked up at her parents, and as she became more and more aware she wondered why they were always sad. Their mouths moved, but there was only silence, so she focused on the movements. Hands, brows, eyes, cheeks were her clues, and she was a quick learner. Mom and dad didn't respond to her much when she opened her mouth and vibrated her throat as instinct was telling her to do, so she learned to speak with her own hands, just as they were teaching her.

Her parents fretted and worried, running agonizing circles round and round in their own heads, but Ivy never found out what was wrong. And as time went by, they finally noticed.

She lulled her daughter to sleep, smiling as she watched the tiny girl transfixed by the hand movements of the bedtime story before Ivy's eyes finally drooped and closed. Klara went to her own bedroom, and by the time she got there tears streamed down her face.

"Klara...? What's wrong?" As soon as she climbed in, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and stroking her hair.

"I...it's nothing..."

"No, please... You should tell me... Something's been hurting you for a long time. I want to know..."

Klara buried her face into his chest, shame burning in her stomach as she finally confessed.

"When... When we found out that Ivy was... was deaf... I... God, the first thing I thought was that she was broken." the words came out in a shaking stream, a trickle leaking from a dam, "That she... that we'd f-failed..."

He felt a stab in his heart. That's what he had felt too. But she was asleep in that other room, happy and healthy without a single care in the world. Their daughter was beautiful and whole, deafness be damned.

Seeing his wife in such distress allowed him to put his own guilt to the side. Doctor's instincts.

"No... It's... It isn't your fault. Everyone wants their children to come out perfect... It's only natural..." he squeezed her closer to him, "When that doesn't happen, we tend to... panic a bit. But we need to put that behind us. Focus on what's best for her now."

Klara relaxed in his arms. For all their shared faults, this is why she loved him. Those were the exact words she needed to hear. No locking yourself up in a spiral of self-loathing. You have a daughter that needs you. She comes first.

She closed her eyes, and smiled just a little, the worries slowly seeping away. They would never completely go away. They never did. But she felt the relief of her priorities resorting themselves.

She was already half-asleep, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat before she answered him again.

"I love you..."

"I love you too."