"When's the last time either of you showered? Ate a vegetable? Had a conversation that wasn't about baby poop?"
"Yesterday? Maybe?"
"That's it. I'm taking Santiago for four hours. You two are going to sleep, shower, and remember you're humans." Izzy's already picking up the diaper bag, checking the contents with practiced efficiency. "Don't argue. I'm his godmother. This is literally my job."
"Izzy, we can't just—" Lena starts.
"Can and will." Izzy scoops up Santiago from his play mat. He immediately lights up, recognizing his favorite person who isn't his parents. "Hey, mijo. Want to go to Auntie Izzy's for a few hours? We're going to let your parents sleep like normal people."
"We should at least—"
"Nope. Not listening." Izzy's already got Santiago settled on her hip, grabbing his diaper bag. "I have bottles. I have diapers. I have entertainment. You have four hours of freedom. Sleep or have sex or just stare at a wall without being interrupted. I don't care. But you're taking a break."
She's out the door before either of us can form a coherent protest.
The house goes quiet.
Actually quiet.
No baby sounds, no crying, no needs demanding immediate attention. Just silence.
Lena and I look at each other.
"We should sleep," she says.
"Yeah."
Neither of us moves.
"Why is it weird?" Lena asks. "Being alone with you?"
"Because we haven't been alone since the hospital. It's been three months of being 'Mom and Dad' and I forgot how to be just... us."
She nods slowly. "I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Be a mother and a partner and myself all at once. I feel like I'm failing at all three." Her voice drops. "My body doesn't feel like mine. I'm exhausted all the time. I love Santiago but I also miss my old life. And I feel guilty for feeling that way."
I move closer, pull her into my arms. She comes easily, tucking her face against my chest. "You're not failing."
"Feels like it."
"You want to know what I see?"
"Probably not but tell me anyway."
"I see you getting up every two hours to feed him. Healing from childbirth while running on no sleep. Still being the smartest person I know. Still treating patients—you saw Rope's kid last week for free when he had that fever. Still being beautiful even when you're covered in spit-up and haven't washed your hair in three days."
"That's not beautiful. That's survival."
"That's both." I tilt her face up to look at me. "You're magnificent, Lena. Changed body and all. You grew a human. You're keeping him alive. You're holding our family together. That's power."
Her eyes fill with tears. "I don't feel powerful. I feel like I'm drowning."
"Then we drown together. That's the deal." I kiss her forehead. "We're in this together. The exhaustion, the chaos, the beautiful impossible mess of it all. Together."
"Promise?"
