The best is yet to come

Lullaby, your hand's in mine

- April 28th 2023 -

While charging the dishwasher, Carina was humming some italian songs she had collected in a playlist, basically all related to her and Maya.

She could hear from the kitchen that her daughter was doing the same. The italian had made some playlists for Leslie who loved italian and music enought to want to learn some of her mother's favourites.

Maya's shift had once again lasted much longer than expected and so the blonde was still stuck on papers and reports two hours after lunch.

Both Carina and Joy were discharged from the hospital almost two months ago and the brunette was sometimes still a little sore and surely disappointed by being forced to stay home without her wife, even if she had the girls.
Leslie's school was closed for some patriotic stuff she still didn't know much about, but she was very glad for cause it meant the girl was home and could help if Carina needed her to.

She heard Leslie's footsteps and glanced up towards her singing happily the song that was now playing.

"You should start consider singing bambina. You're really good." The italian spoke, placing the towel down on the counter and walking towards her older daughter, who had reached the living room, falling on the couch.

"Yeah well...no I don't think I will. I like to but no." She chuckled a little.

She remembered when she still lived with her family, that her mother used to tell her many times that she was talented, but never considered the option.
She slowly turned towards the detatched stroller lying next to the couch where baby J was sleeping.

"Not gonna force you to." Carina walked towards her and softly stroked her hair looking at the sleeping baby girl.

"She's so beautiful mom." The italian nooded. She really was, though still so little, her hands clenched in fists raised next to her head, eyes closed shut. They had eventually chosen a brown haired and blue eyed young man to pair with Maya's eggs and she had to admit that it worked pretty great, cause their daughter was heavenly beautiful.

"I'm gonna bring her to the crib." Carina spoke after a few minutes of them both staring at the baby. She lifted her daughter from the stroller and slowly walked to the master bedroom to place her down in the crib.
She stronked the girl's head lovingly and felt a rush of sadness hit her.

She knew how post partum worked. Being and OB/GYN meant that she also knew what happens after the baby is born and even if she was incredibly happy and grateful for everything she had, her heart couldn't help but feel sad sometimes.

When Leslie was at school and the baby sound asleep in her crib, if Maya wasn't home, the apartment felt way too silent. Of course she couldn't leave, if not just a few times for a short walk. She knew her body was still a little overwelmed by the birth and not ready for her to put too much effort on it and work for now wasn't in the picture, she still had three weeks of maternity leave and also knew that Jo wouldn't let her come back earlier.

Maya was always so helpful at home but her schedules and appointments and all the work she was doing to eventually become Battalion Chief weren't what Carina needed. She knew how the presence of the partner would help in this situation and the blonde was extremely supportive, but Carina felt like sometimes her wife was doing a little too much, or too few, like she needed to do less or probably more. Less with helping Carina who was trying to rebuild up her body and maybe more for the baby. But she was always so great with Joy that it made the italian feel guilty.

While at the hospital she realized she wasn't feeling this bad, cause she had baby J always there for her and both Maya and Leslie basically skipped and cancelled any plan except for work and school. Plus she had all the pediatric doctors she wanted around, which made her feel a lot more comfortable also for Joy's health and safety. But now it felt like at home anything could be a danger. From the crib itself to the ground and the table and literally any other object.