English Original
I could say that a winter breeze had sent snow flurries dancing against our windowpane as we cuddled in front of a glowing fire, sipping spiced cider, alternately nuzzling each other and cooing about the depth of our love.
I could say that - but it would be a lie.
The early November storms had melted, leaving an endless landscape of gray trees and mire green earth. It fit our moods. My husband and I vacillated between extreme joy over the life of our two-months-old son and extreme distress over our lack of sleep or of time for each other. Our conversation of the past two weeks especially sounded less like the cooing of lovebirds and more like the barking of pitbulls.
I had returned to work after only six weeks' leave and on the tail end of postpartum blahs. I felt fat and incompetent. My husband felt guilty and alienated. The few words in passing each morning and the brief hug and peck in the evening were, at best, meager tokens of the attention we desperately needed to give each other.
After one particularly exhausting day, I lay next to our precious infant, dreamily following the down of his cheeks and the satin of his neck and arm to his feathery fingers, when I . . . well, I fell asleep. I slept the dreamless sleep of the fatigued, while my dear husband waited, hopeful that I would rouse to finish the conversation we'd begun two days earlier. I felt his presence, vaguely, in the doorway of our room, but was drawn gently back into my drowsing stupor.
I awoke several hours later to the whimpering hunger of our baby and saw my husband sleeping soundly within an arm's reach. After our son had settled back into blissful contentment, I rose to get a drink of water. I stumbled into the hall and flipped the light switch. There, I found the first note, hanging from the frame of our family montage: "I love you . . . because we are a family."
My breath caught for a moment, then I ventured farther along the hallway, and . . . another note: "I love you because you are kind."
For the next half hour, I wandered through our home, collecting the precious bits of warmth and affection. On the bathroom mirror: "I love you because you are beautiful." On my satchel of essays: "I love you because you are a teacher." On the refrigerator: "I love you because you are yummy." On the TV, on the bookcase, in the cupboards, on the front door: "I love you because you are funny . . . you are smart . . . you are creative. you make me feel as if I can do anything . . . you are the mother of our son." Finally, on our bedroom door: " I love you because you said yes."
It was intoxicating, soothing - an embrace to carry me through the sleepless nights and to draw me back into the joy of my every day. I slipped back into our bed and curled myself around my beautiful husband.
中文翻译
我本可以说，冬日的微风将雪花吹得在我们的窗玻璃上翩翩起舞，而我们依偎在温暖的火炉前，啜饮着香料苹果酒，时而互相依偎，时而呢喃着诉说我们爱的深沉。
我本可以那样说——但那会是谎言。
十一月初的风暴已经消融，留下了一片无边无际的灰色树木和泥泞绿色大地的景象。这正符合我们的心境。我和丈夫在两种极端情绪间摇摆：一方面为我们两个月大儿子的生命感到极度喜悦，另一方面又因睡眠不足和彼此缺乏时间而感到极度苦恼。尤其是过去两周的对话，听起来不再像爱情鸟的咕咕声，而更像是斗牛犬的吠叫。
我只休了六周产假就回去工作了，还带着产后忧郁的余波。我感到肥胖且无能。我的丈夫则感到内疚和疏离。每天早上匆匆说过的几句话，晚上短暂的拥抱和轻吻，充其量只是我们极度渴望给予对方的关注的微薄表示。
在特别疲惫的一天之后，我躺在我们珍贵的婴儿旁边，梦幻般地注视着他脸颊上的绒毛、他颈部和手臂如绸缎般的肌肤，直到他羽毛般的手指，然后我……嗯，我睡着了。我陷入了疲惫者无梦的沉睡，而我亲爱的丈夫等待着，希望我能醒来完成我们两天前开始的谈话。我模糊地感觉到他在我们房间门口的存在，但又被温柔地拉回了昏昏欲睡的麻木状态。
几小时后，我被宝宝饥饿的呜咽声唤醒，看到丈夫在触手可及的范围内睡得正香。儿子重新满足地安静下来后，我起身去喝水。我跌跌撞撞地走进走廊，啪地打开了灯。在那里，我发现了第一张便笺，挂在我们家庭合影的相框上：“我爱你……因为我们是一家人。”
我屏住呼吸片刻，然后冒险沿着走廊走得更远，又发现了……另一张便笺：“我爱你，因为你善良。”
接下来的半小时里，我在家中漫步，收集着这些珍贵的温暖与爱意。在浴室的镜子上：“我爱你，因为你美丽。”在我的论文手提包上：“我爱你，因为你是一位老师。”在冰箱上：“我爱你，因为你很美味。”在电视上、书架上、橱柜里、前门上：“我爱你，因为你有趣……你聪明……你有创造力。你让我觉得我可以做任何事……你是我们儿子的母亲。”最后，在我们卧室的门上：“我爱你，因为你说了‘我愿意’。”
这感觉令人陶醉，抚慰人心——像一个拥抱，支撑我度过无眠的夜晚，并将我拉回日常的喜悦中。我溜回我们的床上，蜷缩在我美丽的丈夫身边。