Work Text:
Day One
Carson was sure she could have navigated the stairs and hall with her eyes closed, trusting the hand pressed between her shoulder blades as she and Greta walked slowly towards the door of their apartment.
If not for Sophie.
Carson couldn’t believe how long the soreness lingered in her body. The three days in the hospital ate into the precious sixteen they would have together before Greta had to return to work, a fact that upset Carson more than she let on. The haemorrhage never materialised, but the couple were advised to stay on alert for any unusual pain or bleeding as a condition of Carson’s discharge. The hardest part was the exhaustion. Carson was perpetually drained, barely able to keep her arms that cradled their precious cargo, together. Fuck! She was angry at her body for disrupting their time off like this. They could have come home sooner; she should be recovering faster. They'd be able to do things together as a new family. And why did it hurt so much to breastfeed?
Carson felt like a tired, misshapen lump, aching and bruised. Her body almost not her own, but a human wreckage after bringing this daunting new adventure into their life. Merely the scraps left behind after a long project, waiting to be swept into a corner.
But right now, all Carson had to do was carry their—thankfully sleeping—baby girl. That was the only thing Greta asked of her and so far, Sophie wasn't demanding anything more from Carson on top of it. Greta seemed completely happy to gather all the bags and the car seat from her—well, their Volvo. She just hooked everything over her shoulder, or in the crook of her arm. It was a lot, and Carson bit the inside of her lips to hold back an offer she knew Greta would decline; instead, she awkwardly waited with a half smile..
Carson missed the comforting rub to her back that had kept her moving forwards, Greta’s hands now occupied with the clattering bundle of keys.
"This is so exciting," Greta grinned over her shoulder, practically buzzing with energy. Nobody would guess that she'd been napping in those awful vinyl chairs from the opening of visiting hours until close three days straight. The only time Greta left was to go home to check on Kit.
"It is, huh?" Carson agreed through a deep yawn, trying to keep her arm securely around Sophie while covering her eye with the back of her hand.
"Want me to get her settled and you go lie down?" Greta nudged the unlocked door open with her elbow, but waited in the doorway for Carson.
Fuck yes. So badly that Carson felt her legs relaxing already.
But Carson... she couldn't. This was supposed to be an important milestone, right? Bringing their baby home for the first time? She just—she should be more outwardly excited. Deep down, buried beneath her tiredness, she was. Truly. She recognised this was all very special. It's just that none of that was making it to the surface; not like Greta, whose joy fuelled her like nuclear energy.
"Yeah, please. I’m sorry, I know this is a big deal but I just wanna sleep; I don’t think I would have slept in those hospital beds if I wasn’t so tired. But it's gonna be good being in our bed again. Are you okay with checking the monitor?" It was, in part, an excuse to stay in this odd standoff on their threshold, a few more seconds for Carson to pull herself together enough to muster some excitement to match her partner's. If Greta knew she was stalling, she didn't let on.
Carson tried not to relax too much into the hand that cupped her cheek, the warm lips that brushed her forehead. "It’s okay, Carse. Go sleep. I can put everything away—did you want to try feeding her first?"
Carson winced at the thought. Her breasts were painfully tender, and she hadn't had a lot of luck breastfeeding yet, even with the midwives to guide her. "I can, um... I can try?"
"Want me to—" Carson knew Greta had already anxiously washed and rewashed all their baby bottles as their due date neared. She'd kept herself busy with finding things to clean.
"Could you? Please? I mean, just in case. But I will try, properly, but—"
"Hey. Hey... it’s fine, Carson. I can do it. Just in case."
Carson’s shoulders released, now she knew a bottle was waiting. She simply didn’t have the energy to fight the breastfeeding battle with her own body. Not when Greta was eager to help; be it by feeding or nursing her daughter, or giving Carson whatever she needed to heal.
She was still determined to try.
Really, Carson just wanted to sleep with Greta draped over her like a weighted blanket for an entire day, and for Sophie to do the same in her new crib with her carnival stuffed elephant in the corner. Both were unlikely. Greta was already treating Carson like glass. It was slightly annoying, even if that annoyance was horribly irrational. Greta didn’t want to hurt her, and Carson was grateful. Or at least, she had enough sense to be grateful.
Carson nudged her forehead against Greta's shoulder, searched for Greta's three spare fingers which instinctively found her own.
"Thank you."
After days of sleeping and being randomly interrupted by nurses in front of whom it felt inappropriate to be caught kissing, Carson nearly fell into Greta to press her lips to her girlfriend’s. Good lord, she missed this feeling: the taste of warm lips that knew her own so well. A warmth burned in her chest, a surge of adrenaline at the tiny whimper because Greta had clearly missed her too. She didn't have the energy, but her body still craved what it remembered and relished the taste of it.
Now, Carson could smile—really smile, and cross the threshold.
Week One
Carson’s sensitive hearing couldn’t ignore the puttering through the house, no matter how quiet Greta tried to be. The guilt that someone was moving around while Carson was still lazing in bed was an uncomfortable greeting to the morning. She barely registered her position on the bed beyond the weight of Kit on her chest, but she knew it was Greta hushing Sophie as she snuck around their room by the light of the hallway through the cracked door.
As always, Greta treated Carson way better than Carson felt she deserved, or felt able to reciprocate.
"Hmm...?" Carson groaned as she lifted her head off her firm pillow to peer through the hair covering her face. Greta paused in her ruffling through the drawer, bumped it closed with her hip and leaned over the bed. Carson recognised the work socks in Greta's hand that touched her shoulder.
The kiss to her forehead was a familiar comfort, a pleasant reassurance that it was okay for Carson to leave Sophie to her Mom’s care. Not that Carson thought Greta would harbour even a speck of resentment, but the first thoughts in the morning were often irrational. "Morning baby. Don't rush. I'm not leaving for another thirty."
And then the grizzle that could wake Carson from the dead. Her smile fell and Carson's eyes opened enough to make out Sophie bundled in a blanket, tucked so effortlessly in Greta's elbow. Only then Carson realised—
Shit. It was Greta's first day back.
And Carson would be left alone with their daughter.
Not that she was afraid! But there was a... a dread? She was still so exhausted, frustratingly disconnected from Sophie, her own body. Breastfeeding was a daily ordeal and Carson wasn't sure why she kept persisting. Greta was patient, always asked if she could do anything, but Carson felt determined—obligated, by nobody—to try. Nobody was putting any pressure on Carson to breastfeed except herself, but everyone else bore the brunt of her tears and solemness when she failed.
Worse, Carson could only really direct her mood at Greta because it wasn't Sophie's fault, or, in Greta’s physical absence, a bottle she’d prepared earlier. Neither deserved her frustrations.
It's just everything looked so easy for Greta! Sophie settled for Greta, Greta could bounce out of bed multiple times a night without so much as a huff or a yawn, Greta was excited to see her daughter when she came home from the supermarket for an hour—she was excited to see Carson too, always. But those little things festered in Carson's mind because they felt like deliberate swipes at Carson's incompetence.
Carson was constantly tired. And sad. Even resentful. Towards herself, towards Greta, and even in a restrained way: towards Sophie. Because it was hard. And it shouldn’t be hard.
And all three feelings silenced her. They were simply too much to release into their home; where it was supposed to be safe and peaceful for her girlfriend and daughter. Not a festering pool of Carson's discontent.
It was stupid to feel any of it. Let alone validate the feelings by putting them on Greta.
"Nah, I'm up." Carson moved slowly, waiting for Kit to groan and roll into the middle of the bed; her body frustratingly sore because it was so fucking hard to find the right position to sleep in and even though they shared the night time checks—not equally, Carson didn't put up much of a fight when Greta insisted—Carson felt like a nearly-dead battery.
"Okay. I'm making coffee if you want some tea?" Greta brushed Carson's hair back from her face and Carson closed her eyes just so she could pretend everything was like it was six months ago.
When they woke on lazy Sunday mornings with only the inconvenience of a baby bump in the way, which Carson easily forgot about when Greta pressed up against her back and kneaded the outside of Carson's thigh. Carson could remember her own pleased moans turn into a needy whine as Greta's fingers teased closer and closer to the tender skin at her hip, the quiet scratching of acrylic nails threading through coarse hair. Pregnancy didn't stop Carson from pushing her butt back into Greta and letting Greta's knee slip between her legs so Carson could keep herself open to Greta's eager fingers, smiling kisses on her neck.
It wasn't their reality anymore. All Carson could do was pretend.
She sighed heavily. "Yeah, thank you. Want me to put her down?"
Greta was pulling her little girl from her elbow into Carson's waiting arms before she could answer: "Could you? I need to pack my lunch and get my boots on. She's been fed and changed. Just needs a cuddle first and she'll go right back to sleep."
Carson would have stewed on Greta's certainty if she wasn't so thankful for the impending reprieve.
"Yeah, of course." Carson nodded up at Greta, the smile fading the moment her girlfriend scurried out of the room. When she looked down, the little pink face with puckering lips looked back and Carson felt… not much. She loved her daughter. Carson knew that as certainly as her own heart was beating. An undeniable fact, something vital to her existence, but also something Carson couldn’t really feel. It just was.
Sophie cried. Sophie slept, ate, sometimes smiled at Greta—okay, she smiled at Carson too. It just felt like far less often. But there was no love radiating from a glowing Carson. No soft music and Carson humming a lullaby as she stared adoringly at her baby girl like she’d found her purpose in life. Just silence in the cool bedroom. Carson’s sigh and the snotty huff from Sophie.
Slowly, heavily, Carson rose and braced herself for another fucking day.
In the curtain of light from the hall, Carson looked down. If she was honest with herself, her simmering grumpiness was one thing, but Carson was deeply sad that Sophie wasn’t getting as much love from her Momma as from Greta. Carson cared about her daughter enough to know Sophie deserved both of her mothers. Not that Sophie knew any of this, but Carson did. That was enough. She was barely a parent and certainly not the girlfriend she used to be to Greta.
It was... it was just hard not to resent Greta.
Carson was glad Greta was with her, and she could, in some way, understand that her labour had been quite difficult. Greta wasn't trying to upstage her, and Carson wasn't a burden. Things Carson logically knew. Objectively. But that didn’t negate how she felt. Greta wasn't always frustrated with her, but Carson was sure she was being particularly difficult to live with. Definitely more so now compared to the worst of her pregnancy.
"Back to bed for you. Let me have some alone time with Mom before she leaves me. Okay? Please?"
By an act of mercy, Sophie settled into her crib without issue, and Carson found Greta standing in their tiny kitchen with her unlaced boots on and blowing cool air across the top of her steaming coffee. On the counter beside her, Carson saw a cup with a teabag and the tin of cat food Carson probably would have forgotten.
She'd get to that later.
And, because Greta knew her so well, Carson could step into the arms that immediately opened for her when her girlfriend put her mug down and wrapped herself around Carson instead. Perfect. Carson missed this. No matter what, Greta was safe. Carson could even turn her thoughts off for a moment.
"How are you feeling?" Greta asked quietly as they held each other, slowly twisting back and forth like they both did when they rocked their daughter. Their bed may be warm and comfortable, but it paled in comparison to the peace of Greta's embrace.
"I'm gonna miss you." The arms around her tightened, and Carson could hear Greta’s breath draw deep into her lungs.
"I’ll miss you too. Both of you. So fucking much. I’m not going to leave until the very last second because I don't want to. But you're gonna be alright, chickadee. Okay? She's had a good morning and I'm only a call away if you need me."
"I won’t call you out of work, Greta."
"I know you won't. But you can always call or message me to just talk, alright? You're not alone, even if I'm at work. I want you to call me. I want to know what's happening." Greta's arms tightened, the rocking stilled, and Carson felt the tension melt from her body just a little because that was what she needed to hear. Greta, however, took the tender moment in a direction that made Carson tense again. "You've been down lately."
It didn't surprise her that Greta noticed, not at all. Carson just thought she'd been better at hiding it. "I’m sorry, I just—"
"Hey, that’s not what I meant. It's not something to apologise for, Carson. I just worry. You haven't been sleeping well either."
It didn't feel right to ask Greta to take Sophie just so Carson could go and have a lengthy nap that she knew would do little to revive her energy reserves. Greta would if she asked. Of that, Carson had no doubt. She would if Carson needed Greta to take Sophie for a whole week, but that felt incredibly wrong to want. Which made it harder to ask now.
"Yeah, I know, I just..." Carson didn't even know how to really explain it. "I'm okay."
"Baby, I'm trying to say this gently but—Carson, I'm starting to worry about you. I'm doing the best I can to help and I don't mind any of it if it's what you need... I just wish you'd talk to me."
Greta was probably right—no. Carson knew she was. She wanted to push back, get away, but quickly gave in when Greta tightened her arms. Carson wasn't fine, and she wasn't even hiding it well. Greta was already doing so much, the confession stuck in Carson's throat. She couldn't ask for more.
"I know. I'm just... I'm tired. I can have a nap when she does, or I'll go to bed earlier tonight. You’ll be back in no time."
Greta pulled back, narrowed eyes seeing more than Carson wanted her to see. Or so it felt. Carson knew Greta, and she knew when Greta was picking her fights. She was doing it now. She wouldn't push, because she had to leave soon, but she was going to ask anyway: "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
Did Carson have a choice? Greta had to go back to work and start earning an income. They had bills to pay, and they couldn’t let their savings dwindle to zero. What if Sophie needed to go to the doctors, or the hospital? If Carson was going to stay home, that meant Greta was going to have to leave her. For work. "Yeah, it's one day. She'll probably sleep through most of it." Carson reached back up for another hug, eager and firm. A façade of energy. Carson could admit she'd been needy during this time off, and was thankful Greta never pulled her up on that. "The house is so tidy, thank you. I'll have a shower and try to get some milk going. I've got a whole day to feed her and pump for tonight.”
"You'll be okay, honey."
"Yeah..." Rationally Carson knew that was true, but that knowledge did nothing to her ailing confidence. Reluctantly, she plastered a smile on her face and let Greta go.
It was hard to drink her tea and stay in the kitchen like it was a normal day. She distracted herself when their cat slowly sauntered into the kitchen and rubbed herself on Carson's calves until Carson fed her. But that only took a few seconds. Carson really just wanted to follow Greta around as she prepared for work, to grasp those last few seconds of support. To be as desperately sad as she felt inside. By the time she finished her tea, the jingle of Greta's car keys taunted Carson's ears.
Fuck, she was going to cry! This was nonsense!
Carson turned away as heavy footsteps drew closer, busying herself with rinsing her cup in the sink. She needed to breathe, to hold the tears back until Greta left. An arm slid across her collarbone, one around her waist to pull her against Greta's chest. Carson's eyes slipped shut when warm lips kissed her temple.
"I'll be back in no time. Save me a diaper, okay?" The slow, gentle whisper drew a chuckle that Carson needed, and the pressure in her cheeks receded. They didn't have time, but Carson gripped the forearm across her chest. "You're a good mother, Carse. Sophie does love you, and so do I. So much. You'll be alright."
The words didn't sink into Carson's skin as deeply as she needed them, but it soothed the burning disappointment well enough. A sweet prefix to their shared silence that probably would have made Carson sob without it.
Carson nodded, and tried to smile. She kissed Greta goodbye and followed her as far as the hallway to see Greta close the door behind her on the way out.
And then she was alone.
Not Carson. Sophie. She might as well be alone.
Carson may have been there, silently dragging her feet towards the crib to sadly gaze at her sleeping daughter. The ache in her chest felt like love that hadn't broken through yet. She didn't feel ready; she certainly didn't feel present. Carson could care for Sophie, but there was so much more of herself that Sophie surely needed.
Carson just... she knew she wasn't enough.
Not when she was so sore, so tired. So utterly broken in more ways than she wanted to count. Her body didn't feel like hers. Just a used vehicle that couldn't serve her baby girl. It hurt to feel like a failure already and they'd barely just begun.
It wasn't like she had a choice though.
So Carson crossed the room, laid down on the floor and cried into the cuff of her robe sleeve so she wouldn't wake her baby, until she fell asleep again. Even Kit joining her to stretch out in the morning sun offered little comfort. She'd just have to do her best until Greta came home. That was all she had in her to give to her daughter.
Month One
She had to get up.
"Carson?"
Greta would be home soon. She'd have to get herself together before Greta saw what Carson became when nobody was there to look.
"Honey? Carson?"
God, why was Sophie still crying? She'd been fed. Sophie wasn't sleeping during the day, no matter what Carson did. She was doing her best to breastfeed but Carson was increasingly losing that battle and was resorting to the bottle more often, and more readily.
"Carson."
But... It was so hard. All of it. And she was so exhausted. When did she eat last? It didn't matter. She had to get up for Sophie. Or they might take Sophie awa—
"Carson!"
"Huh?" Carson slammed back to reality, or, she realised, she was woken suddenly. Still laying on the lounge in the afternoon sun. Greta was... "Shit. You're home."
"I do that after work, Carson." She heard her girlfriend call as she walked away and Carson winced at the harsh sarcasm, the sound fading as Greta went straight for their screaming daughter, ignoring their cat that followed at her heels. Not even a hello. Not that Carson deserved one; she'd been pissing Greta off more and more lately. "How long has she been crying?"
Carson pushed herself up into a slumped, but seated position. Her fingers quickly met greasy tangles—she was a fucking mess. A disgusting, hopeless mess. She'd have to drag herself into the shower, if only because Greta had to sleep next to her—
"She peed through her diaper again. How long were you asleep?" Greta frowned from the doorway, rocking her red-faced daughter and effortlessly—or so it seemed, like fucking always—unbuttoned the leg of Sophie's onesie. Carson couldn't even do the numbers before Greta yelled, almost loud enough to outdo her daughter and definitely enough to scare Kit out the room. "How long has she been like this?"
Fucking hell. Carson snapped, "Jesus, I dunno! Barely an hour."
"Goddamnit Carson," Greta didn't even hide her anger, turning on the heel of her work boot she'd yet to take off. "I can't even have a goddamn break."
"I didn't mean to sleep through, Greta!" Truly, she didn't! She was trying to power through. She was trying to show up for Sophie and Greta even when her body and mind couldn't! She didn't need Greta pointing out how shit she was at it! "I changed her at three and had a rest so I could be up before you came home!"
By the time Carson got to their room, Greta had already peeled the soiled onesie off and disposed of the diaper, flicking open a fresh one. All Carson could see was Greta's back, and the tightness in her shoulders, the roughness as she handled everything needed to clean Sophie up and change her diaper. There was a deliberate care when she picked up a now-dry Sophie; Carson could feel the carefully suppressed anger radiating off Greta as she tried to keep her frustrations away from Sophie, who was uncomfortable enough already.
"Can you take her?" Greta turned sharply and held Sophie—whose unending wails made Carson's skin prickle—out to Carson.
"But—"
"Carson. Don't. I need five minutes, okay? Give me five goddamn minutes to get changed. You can do that for me? Right?" If their daughter's tiny body wasn't held between them, Carson was sure those words would have been hissed right in her face. Of course, Greta was right. Five minutes wasn't much to ask.
"Yeah... yeah, I got her." Carson mumbled, rightly chastised. She was screwing it all up again. Situation fucking normal. If she wasn't failing Sophie, she was failing Greta. Lately, she felt like she was failing both of them.
She couldn't even be happy that Sophie did settle down as Carson lapped around the living room and kitchen for ten minutes, her cries now only blubbering whimpers and unhappy moans. It felt almost like spite. See, if you paid attention to me, I'd stop crying. Mom will see she was right to not trust you. Which was nonsense, but Carson wasn't exactly a shining example of rational thinking the last few weeks. She cried over nothing, got angry over everything. Although she had enough sense to do as she'd been asked. She didn't dare time Greta this time, or disturb the peace Greta wanted. Carson was doing what she was supposed to be doing: she was taking care of their baby.
Finally—if ten minutes could be called that—Greta reappeared, but she hadn't completely changed. Gone were her boots and cotton shirt, now replaced by a black hoodie, and her skinny navy cargo pants remained. Wordlessly, Greta reached for Sophie and Carson handed their baby over. At least she felt a little guilty about her relief.
Like a snarky grin, Sophie calmed completely in her Mom's arms. Of-fucking-course.
A fact that Carson didn't draw attention to verbally, but was conveyed well enough with the roll of her eyes and the hands on her hips. A mood Greta quickly noticed. Immediately, Carson's anger spiked again at Greta's glare and exasperated, "What?"
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing."
"It is nothing, Greta. She settles for you. It's no big deal. It's just the way it is. At least one of us can. Like I said: it's nothing." As much as Carson tried to downplay her grievance, it still sounded like passive aggressive whining to her own ears. Greta shook her head, walked away to put Sophie back in her crib. It wasn't enough time for Carson to talk herself out of starting another fight with Greta before Greta came back, arms folded and stopping uncomfortably deep in Carson's personal space. Which was an unpleasant realisation in itself.
"What the hell was that about, Shaw?"
"I told you, its no—"
"Bullshit. It's not fucking nothing."
At her sides, Carson's fists balled. "What do you want me to do? Just tell me. I'm doing the best I can, Greta, but I know it's not enough. I haven't worked it out. Tell me how to do this right."
"I just want you to show up, Carson. That's all. You're not the only one that's fucking tired and working this shit out as you go along, you know!" Behind Greta, Sophie whined from her room, and both adults froze. Greta held up a finger, right in Carson's face, before taking two steps back. Greta leaned back in the doorframe, watching their baby until Sophie quieted again and then carefully shut the door.
Carson chewed hard on her bottom lip when Greta brushed past her towards the front door, but she followed Greta nonetheless. It wasn't to leave, but it was the furthest part of their apartment from Sophie. If Mom and Momma were going to fight, their baby didn't need to hear it.
It was also a narrow entryway, and both women folded their arms, their backs pressed against opposite walls. It still felt too close. It was stifling.
This time, Carson managed to keep her voice lower. A bit more diplomatic. "I'm not trying to do it wrong, Greta. I wish she'd stop crying for me and I swear I'm doing it how you do, but she won't, okay? I still can't tell which cries are for food or—or for a diaper, so if she's not happy with me, it's because she wants you. I get that's a lot of pressure but I don't know what to do. I'm exhausted, Greta, and I know you are too, and I laid down, to have a rest, and I fell asleep. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep through her crying. I did want to be awake, so you could come home and have a rest. I just... I swear I'm trying. Okay? I'm trying to put on a brave face for you and her. I'm sorry, I'm not doing everything right, but I really am trying to show up."
"You call it a brave face, I call it lying."
How the hell was she lying?! "I'm not—"
"You are! Carson." Greta closed her eyes and bit both of her lips, presumably to hold back some scathing, but correct, rebuke. When she began again, her voice fell low, the words carefully chosen. "When I say I want you to show up, I don't want your “brave face”. I want your honesty, Carson."
"What am I lying about?"
"You're not well. I know that. And for whatever fucking reason, you won't admit it. Not to me, and probably not to yourself. You're depressed. You're lethargic. You're barely eating or looking after yourself—"
"It'll pass!"
"When?" Greta's voice fell lower, in an unsettling, final way. The tone that made Carson's stomach turn. "When, Shaw? You think you can just ride this out? Is that it? That there is a magical turning point and it'll get better? Newsflash, Chickadee, you're not anywhere near that turning point. And I'm not sure how well this family is going to hold up while you wait for it to just... pass."
The words sank in as Greta twisted and roughly yanked on the sneakers she kept by the front door. What was she—
"Wait. Greta, wait, I'm sorry..."
"Sorry doesn't mean shit if nothing changes, Carson. I don't want an apology. I want my girlfriend, all of her. Even the shit parts." Greta growled, snatching her keys from the bowl on the hallway table. "I'm going out."
"Greta..." Carson practically whimpered. Greta paused, her fingers already curled around the handle of their door. "You're coming back, right?"
Carson felt sick when Greta's shoulders fell, and relieved when Greta said, "I came back last time, didn't I?" She did, and Carson was thankful for it. "I live here. My girlfriend and my daughter are here. I'll be back in an hour, Carse, after I calm down. Maybe two. I'm not gonna run, but I need to step back before I say something I don't mean. Or regret."
The reassurance did nothing to assuage the dread in Carson's stomach, not really. At the prospect of Greta wanting to separate on her return, or the prospect of being alone with Sophie in the meantime, Carson couldn't say.
~*~
For once, Sophie stayed asleep in her crib when Carson heard the front door unlock an hour and forty-five minutes later. She didn't move from the floor at the end of their bed where she sat, twisting a mostly clean tissue that hadn't made it into the pile yet. It didn't feel right to lay on the bed. Their bed was where they slept when they were happy. It would be like... tainting it, somehow, if Carson touched it when she and Greta weren't okay. Kit was balled up on Carson's side of the bed anyway, enjoying the company and the silence without a care for the mood in their bedroom.
The keys in the bowl, Greta's sneakers back next to the door. Light, slow steps in soft socks that came closer. Normal sounds that were music to Carson's ears. It was just... slower. Greta sounded tired. Carson huffed a bemused, defeated laugh through her nose. She knew Greta so well.
The blinding burn of their bedroom light hurt her eyes. The ever-so-weary, "hey..."
Carson didn't look up. She didn't want to see the hurt she'd caused her love. "Hi..."
At first, Carson wanted to recoil when Greta came down on her knees, right at Carson's feet. Because if Greta was going to break up with her, Carson didn't want to hear it. But the warm hands on her knees were soothing. The touch was gentle, and Carson relished the feel like warm water on icy skin. At least Greta would be gentle.
"Told you I'd come back."
Well, there was that. Carson tossed her tissue aside and weakly crossed her legs to fiddle with the shoelace of Greta's work boot that sat on the floor between them. "You go to Jo's again?"
Greta sighed, "I did, actually. I mean Joey's just down the road, so..."
Carson nodded, and didn't react when the shoelace slid from her fingers as Greta moved to sit on her knees, shuffling closer. Carson was trapped, and shrank into herself. "Is Jo gonna come beat me up?"
"No... Jo doesn't want to know our problems and I'm not going to tell her either. That's our business. But I did talk to Flo. A little."
"Oh..." Carson couldn't see how that was any better. Flo was an amazing mother to Theo, and Carson paled in comparison. Flo was probably a better friend to Greta than Carson was a girlfriend. Then again, curiosity got the better of her because Flo must have given Greta some good advice if Greta had come home, willing to talk. "What did you guys talk about?"
"Me. Mostly." Greta lightly stroked a finger down the back of Carson's hand. "About how I can see my girlfriend struggling and I don't know how to help her. About how I'm so scared for her because I know she's not well. And all I want is for her to get better. I told Flo I don't know whether to push you or leave you alone because neither feel helpful. That it hurts that someone I love so much doesn't want my help and I'm letting it damage our relationship. And our family."
Well... shit.
Like a dam breaking, the tears came before Carson could stop them. Because Carson knew it wasn't a guilt trip. It was the truth. How Greta felt. But it cut so deeply to hear Greta say the words out loud. The only thing that Carson was sure could hold back a torrent of tears, was Greta's loving arms that reached for her and wrapped around Carson so tightly that Carson almost couldn't breathe.
But she could. Carson could finally breathe. Because when she let go of whatever the fuck was telling her to keep all this in, she felt the weight come off her chest. It all released and poured out of her. The disappointment and anger. She could think clearly. "I'm sorry... Greta, I'm really sorry..."
"Please talk to me, baby. Please." Fuck, Greta was crying too. It felt... good. Not maliciously, but like they both needed something. Like letting go was giving Greta what she needed, and Carson was finally doing something right. Carson clung to the sleeves of Greta's hoodie, barely noticing the dampness on the cotton and the smell of rain. Stupidly, it reminded Carson of their first night, when she tried to protect Greta from a raging storm but was utterly charmed by the crystal droplets adorning Greta's auburn curls.
"My... Great— fuck. My feelings are all over the place... They're wrong. So—so many of them just feel wrong and they won't stop."
Greta pulled back, and Carson let out a sad laugh when Greta futilely tried to wipe Carson's tears away, while ignoring her own. She loved that about Greta. Carson brushed the wetness from Greta's cheeks in return. "I wanna hear them, Carson. Even the ones you think are gonna upset me. I'd rather know. Okay? Even if you don't want my help, I wanna know how you feel. I just want to know what's going on in that head of yours."
Well, Carson may not be able to always give Greta what she wanted, but she could always manage to give Greta what she needed. And if this is what Greta needed... okay.
"I feel like a bad mother. Constantly. As soon as my eyes open until it's dark and I can't sleep. I don't... fuck. I don't feel this, this... overwhelming love for her, Greta. I should! Sometimes, I do. But most of the time—No. It's like it's something attached to my body. This feeling. It's just there and I don't love it or hate it, sometimes I'm not even interested. It's just this part of me I have to accept." Thankfully, Greta said nothing. She simply nodded, a thumb rubbing Carson's shoulder. Admittedly, the lack of rebuke was a welcome relief. Enough to continue. "I'm tired. God, I'm so tired, Greta. All the time. I hate—" Greta had promised she wouldn't get mad. "I hate that everything looks easy for you. It makes me resent you. It's not even your fault because I know it's not deliberate! Then I feel mad at her for changing how I feel about you—It's so dumb. It just feels like she loves you more. And it's so hard to love her when I feel like she doesn't want me."
Carson held her breath. Greta took a deep one, and let it out slowly. "I know... Okay? It's—I know. I thought about some of those things but you didn't say... You know, it's okay. I understand. I'm not angry you feel that way, Carson."
It wasn't okay. But Carson was relieved to be able to give voice to constantly intruding thoughts. They had somewhere to go and mercifully, they weren't hurting Greta as badly as keeping them in.
"And you... I feel like I'm letting you down, Greta. All the time. I'm a shitty partner. I feel so fucking ugly and I wish I could... You know. Bring myself to get back to... how we were. Together. Because you deserve that! I miss feeling like I could do that for you. But I don't want to look at myself and I don't want you to look at me either. I feel like I'm making your life worse; you didn't sign up for this. I'm just dumping our daughter on you and I don't have the energy to give you a break or be there for you. I'm getting more and more afraid you'll leave. Or someone will take Sophie away. And... And I'm—I'm depressed. Really. I know I am. I'll book an appointment with the doctor, I promise."
Like her words, Carson's fingers scrambled to grab hold of Greta's hoodie again. To keep Greta. She couldn't do this without her. She didn't want to drive Greta away. She wanted to be good enough for Greta to want to stay.
Greta grabbed her hands and held them together between their chests. "Carse, sweetheart, don't book an appointment just because you think it'll make me stay."
That's not what Carson meant. "No, no! I mean—fuck, I said it wrong. I'll book because you're right. I don't know who I'm trying to fool by pretending I'll just—just... get through it. But my pride—or whatever it is—it's not worth hurting us. Or her. I...I wasn't being honest. With you. Or me. I'm not okay. I tried to be. But I'm not."
At first, Carson wasn't sure what Greta's sigh meant, until she found herself back in Greta's embrace and a sniffled thank you in her hair. "I know it doesn't feel like it. But I love you, Carson. For you. You didn't stop being my girlfriend when we both became Sophie's parents. I knew things were going to change, but I love you. Okay? She loves you too. And as long as you keep showing up for me, and her, I'm not going anywhere. But please, Carson, don't shut me out. Please let me help you."
Carson nodded into Greta's shoulder.
"I love you too. Just... I need you. Please. Help me."
"I will. I'm here. I will."
The First Six Months
"And then... and then..." Carson sang, rubbing the bottom of Sophie's feet that kicked excitedly beneath her chin. It made Carson grin a little harder. "And then Henry hid behind the desk when our boss came in."
Carson pressed Sophie's feet to her own cheeks, partly covering her eyes. "We couldn't see him! Henry was hiding! But then our boss found him and Henry popped out from under the desk like—Rah!"
Sophie squealed and waved her arms, gifting her Momma with a gummy smile. Her first two teeth were soon to break through, but enough food, teething gel and attention from her mothers kept her sufficiently distracted through her discomfort.
Things had improved significantly in the last few months. It wasn't all smooth sailing, but Carson felt like herself again. Sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. But better. She felt much better. She had followed through on her promise to Greta to speak to her doctor, and while regular appointments very quickly fell out of their budget, it gave Carson some direction and guidance.
Going back to work had been… Honestly? Awful. Within the first week, Carson accepted she wasn't ready to be back full time despite the six weeks of maternity leave she'd already taken and after another emotional breakdown, decided she'd have to say something. The trip to HR had been one of the most difficult, but necessary steps.
It felt odd to hold Greta's hand at work as they fronted up to the predominantly female HR department to discuss what could be done to make Carson's return to work a bit smoother. Thankfully, there were enough women who understood Carson's condition to facilitate a few weeks of part time work and the flexibility to move her hours if she had a doctor's appointment. Henry wasn't the only one to notice Carson had been struggling, and their boss was reasonable enough to want Carson fully productive for half the time, rather than have Carson full time until she inevitably burnt herself out. It was nice to not feel entirely disposable.
Giving up the fight to breastfeed and switch Sophie to formula had been a blessing in disguise. After the first week of feeling like an utter failure as a mother, the flow-on effects appeared. Sophie ate and slept better, which meant Carson was sleeping better. Her energy started to return and pleasingly, Carson was able to let Greta sleep more. Her breasts stopped hurting, and after her milk supply stopped for good, Carson began to recognise herself in the mirror again. She still didn't like her what she saw yet, but she didn't resent it, or Sophie anymore.
As it turned out, Greta's experience with Teddy and her other friend's children did mean she held Sophie differently. Better, frankly. Carson wasn't doing it wrong, per se, but the couple did exploit feeding time to sit together with Sophie until Carson could confidently soothe her. Sophie was now quite content to sleep in Carson's arms. It felt... really good. So good, Carson began to connect with her baby girl. That moment when Carson looked down at Sophie sleeping on her chest one day and felt overwhelmed by the abundance of love for her baby girl, was an incredible revelation. She missed Sophie at work as much as Greta did, was now more willing to get up at night, and actually had fun when she played with Sophie.
Carson felt comfortable talking now, and went for walks to get some air and exercise after work. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Greta and Sophie. She started talking to Jo and Flo independent of Greta, and was surprised that even Flo had gone through a few weeks of depression herself. Now Carson understood why Greta had gone to Jo that night. Jo understood her feeling of helplessness. Carson liked the friendship she was building with Flo; they even started to have their own little in-jokes to counter Jo and Greta's.
Carson developed some patience and no longer snapped when Greta encouraged her to eat more consistently, and Carson reluctantly got up earlier in the mornings so she could start and finish work early. It gave her a small gap to change or shower before picking Sophie up from daycare. Just have those few minutes alone to be Carson. Not Greta's girlfriend or Sophie's Momma. Just check in on herself.
She could now hold the fort until Greta came home and was able to give her partner a break too. Which felt so fucking good after feeling like a burden in the relationship for months. They found a rhythm: Carson handled Sophie until dinner time while Greta cooked, and then she took over after while Carson cleaned up. Carson got up for Sophie until around midnight, and Greta took the mornings until Carson's alarm went off. It rarely worked that smoothly, but it was something. They had more time to breathe.
Now, Carson was basking in the afternoon sun that warmed the carpet of their living room, warm on her back as she laid on her stomach. Anything to be closer to Sophie, and make up for the months Carson felt like she lost. She gently nommed on Sophie's soft heel, eliciting another delighted screech at the tickling sensation.
The sound of the front door opening signalled an end to the two Shaws’ vigil. Kit immediately sprang off the sofa, the bell on her collar jingling loudly as she greeted her other human.
"Is that Mom?" Carson asked her wiggling baby, who met Carson's excitement with another cackle and flapping arms. "Is that your Mom?!"
Like clockwork, the keys fell in the bowl, the thump of Greta's boots by the door and a "Where's my baby and baby Momma?" sung through the hall. Carson was no longer upset at the change in Sophie when she heard Greta's voice, because Carson knew how to make her daughter laugh too. Sophie just responded to her mothers differently, and Carson was okay with that.
Red curls unfurled and swayed as Greta undid her hair when she hurried into the room, laying down the cat she was carrying and almost falling on top of Carson as she dove to the floor. "Hi! I missed you," Greta pressed a lingering kiss to Carson's cheek, her usual red lip gloss mostly gone from this morning. Greta scooched closer, until she lay flush against Carson's side. Carson rolled onto her hip to reach an arm behind her and rub Greta's lower back, her head resting in her palm while she watched her two favourite people greet each other after being separated for the whole day. Greta lunged closer to tickle Sophie's belly. "Hi baby! I missed you... Were you good for Momma? Were you?"
The peace settled, even warmed, as Carson watched her girlfriend and daughter play together. It wasn't perfect all the time, but Carson had been blind to these happy moments before. Now, she felt them. She could get out of her own head enough to be present, and actually enjoy her family.
"Look at this squishy tummy! You must have had a huge dinner. Ahh... Num num num!" Greta gently nibbled and blew a raspberry on the soft skin of Sophie's rounded belly. Even Carson giggled at Sophie's delighted squeal. "You did have dinner! What about me? Is there anything left for me?"
Before Carson could even finish suggesting they would have to check the fridge, Greta turned away from Sophie and nuzzled into Carson's neck with a very different "nom nom."
"Ack! Greta!" Carson shrieked, falling into her back and away from Sophie, with Greta still well attached. Her words faded into pleased, breathy laughs when Greta ended up on top of her, kissing her like she'd been gone for months.
"Hang on..." Greta pulled back and reached past Sophie to bring her play gym closer. "Can you do me the biggest favour, Chickpea? I need you to distract yourself for a few minutes while I tell your Momma how beautiful she is and that I missed her because she was on site all day."
Greta didn't see the way Carson's eyebrows furrowed in worry, too occupied moving the hanging toys to within their baby's reach, and fishing Kit's catnip toy off the floor to toss into the hallway behind them.
Carson still struggled with that.
Her boobs were mostly back to normal, but Carson still carried some leftover weight around her middle and hips that she wished would go away. Her butt was definitely bigger. Greta never pushed, but she also didn't hide her physical desire for Carson once she'd physically recovered from labour and weaning. Carson still had to remind herself of Greta's intentions when her lover touched her. That Greta wasn't criticising the curves of Carson's waist or hips when she snuck up Carson from behind, or slipped into the shower with her.
But they had yet to find their way back to having sex again. Carson simply didn't have the confidence and openness she had... before.
Sure, their first foray back to intimacy had been some filthy kissing and hands that slipped into each other's underwear in the total darkness, on a night when Sophie was sleeping particularly well in her own room. An occurrence rarer than Carson wanted, but it was as far as she could allow herself to go. It was something. Enough to satisfy herself, and—she hoped—Greta, for now. Because Carson certainly wanted to enjoy her girlfriend. Truly, she did.
It's just that Carson couldn't bear to be seen.
The fact was, Carson had become immensely self conscious. Greta's figure had also softened a little, having lost much of her free time when she would have gone running or to the gym. At best, she went for a short jog or did a workout in the living room. She had the grace to never complain; she genuinely preferred to be home with Carson and Sophie. Although Carson wondered if it was perhaps some form of solidarity. Either way, Greta still had amazing boobs, a relatively narrow waist and legs for days.
It didn't help that it was much harder to be in the mood—in general—when Carson was exhausted, or keeping an ear out for the baby monitor, or when she got too in her head trying to be okay with Greta's ardour. Carson still couldn't quite take up Flo's offer to watch Sophie for a few hours while Mom and Momma had some... um, alone time. It made her anxious and a little embarrassed. To not have her shit sorted well enough to find the time or energy.
Kissing, however, Carson could do quite happily. Until Greta alluded to a compliment on her girlfriend's appearance. Which, thankfully, never went beyond the 'oh hi, pretty Momma' before Greta was slowly devouring Carson again. Having their daughter two feet away was a convenient safety blanket. Nothing was going to happen with Sophie around.
"Mm..." Greta hummed dreamily when she pulled back. "I had an idea."
"Oh?" Carson wriggled her shoulders into the carpet, reaching up to tuck a red curl behind Greta's ear.
"What do you think about going on a date?" Greta tapped a red nail on Carson's chin. "’Cause you're really fucking cute and I miss going on dates. It's still fun to woo you even though I know you're all mine."
"I miss them too. But we can't just..." Carson craned her head to look at Sophie, still content with her play gym. "Greta—sorry, I just... I'll worry the whole time."
Greta melted over her, loose and warm, and although Carson braced herself for an exasperated sigh, or pushing—not that Greta ever did—or just to be called out... Greta patted Carson's chest. "I know. I was thinking about that today and I know what might help. Wanna hear my idea?"
Of course Carson did. "Yeah?"
"We take her with us—"
"It's not a particularly romantic outing if we bring her along."
"I'm not done yet, Shaw..."
"Sorry."
"We invite Jo and Flo along too." Carson wanted to point out a double date seemed to be missing the point, but bit her tongue when Greta raised an eyebrow. "We invite them along with us and they look after Chickpea. Not a double date, like, away from us. Not far, in case you—we want to check on her. Maybe we go to the park and they can follow behind or we go have dinner and they get their own table. What do you think?"
It... didn't sound scary. It was a good compromise, Carson had to agree. She liked knowing she could quickly check on Sophie to ease her mind, rather than struggle to be present with Greta while she worried in her head. Jo and Flo were more than capable babysitters. Carson knew that pretending to be more fine than she felt created problems.
Yeah, this might actually work.
"I like it."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I just..." Don't lie, Shaw; it's not worth it. "...I feel way more vulnerable. With you. And I'm not the same as before, not physically. So it's easier when there'll be no pressure to... you know."
"Never pressure, baby." The kiss Greta dropped to her lips was tender and so, so welcome. Greta traced Carson's hairline with the tip of her nails, but suddenly grinned. "Mmm... Vulnerable, huh?"
"Yeah, like so expo—oh." Vulnerable, in a way Greta liked.
"Mm hmm..." It would be interesting to see if Greta's pregnancy kink really did follow through to motherhood. A well-timed 'ehk heh,' that often preceded a noisy cry, interrupted them.
"Maybe we should talk about this..." they both turned their heads to Sophie, who was clearly getting tired. "...not in front of her."
It was ludicrous to think Sophie knew what her mother's were discussing, but Carson was pleased Greta agreed. Later. Once Carson processed their new plan.
"No. But please go out with me?" Carson readily nodded. Greta quickly snuck a grateful kiss right in Carson's cleavage, and clambered to her feet, though with much less energy than before. "Okay, cuddle time with Mom and you can go down for a nap while Momma checks out the fridge."
Sophie screeched in disagreement, but quickly settled when Greta scooped her up and rubbed large circles on her back.
"Listen Chickpea, you're not the only one that misses Momma's boobies—" Another whine of protest. "You had a few months, but now the kitchen is closed! Momma shut down your food supply for good and turned them back into my favourite toys... I know, it's truly awful, my love, but I was here first and one day you're gonna move out and I'll still be here."
Carson hauled herself back up to a sitting position to move Sophie's play mat and gym aside, and looked down at her cleavage to check for any remnants of lipstick. Only a tiny bit. She chuckled when she heard Greta dance out the room, still arguing with their baby.
"No! No more milk! The only thing coming out of Momma when I get my mouth on her titties is a big, loud, moan—"
"Greta!"
"Sorry!" Came the call down the hall. Carson squinted, straining her hearing but she swore Greta said, "A little muffled moan so we don't wake you up, Chickpea. Don't worry."
~*~
Despite the repeated assurance that there was no need to dress up for their outing to Central Park, Carson still wanted to put some effort in. At least enough to wear something removed from her comfortable house clothes or work uniform. Carson had to stand in front of the mirror and deliberately remind herself that Greta wouldn't be disappointed in her jeans—Carson hadn't worn jeans since Sophie was born—and a new, but simple shirt Carson bought for the occasion.
"I guess this will have to do." Carson shrugged at her elderly cat that was watching her odd behaviour in the mirror. Kit just slowly blinked at Carson and looked away.
"Ding dong!" Greta sang from the hallway just outside of the open door of their bedroom. Carson smiled and rolled her eyes, turning away from her reflection. Becoming parents had taken the giddiness out of Carson; there would likely be no after-date activities. But still, they were trying. Despite living in each other's pockets for weeks, the prospect of having Greta's undivided attention, of being flirted with and teased for a few hours, was a novelty. Greta leaned into the special occasion and chose to get dressed in the bathroom, so they had a little more distance before coming together for their date.
"Come in?" Carson called back, smoothing her hair—or attempting to smooth it. It was wild and unruly, and—she hoped—would likely prove a futile endeavour once Greta put her fingers through it.
A loud, plasticky crinkling preceded Greta's gasp and Carson's heart fluttered, actually fluttered, when her love came in with Sophie held to her chest, both smiling at Carson. Greta's hand was wrapped around their daughter's, who seemed determined to shake the little bouquet of daisies that Greta had given her to hold in her excitement. Greta picked out a pink dress for their date—one Carson had seen in their wardrobe, but Greta had yet to wear. It was nice that she'd chosen something new. Well... new-ish.
"Look how cute Momma is today! She's so pretty!" Really, using their daughter to deliver a compliment was a clever tactic. "Ta for Momma?"
A very clever tactic indeed.
"Thank you, baby." Carson—with Greta's help—untangled Sophie's firm grip until she released the protective plastic. It was a sweet gesture, and comfortably understated. Carson gave Sophie a loud kiss to her forehead, and lifted up on her toes to press a much longer kiss to Greta's lips. "And thank you. You look beautiful."
"Mmm... so do you." One more kiss, because Carson managed to take that compliment. "Jo and Flo wanna know if they're picking our Chickpea up, or if we're meeting them at the park."
Carson did appreciate being able to make most of the decisions today, but it was still difficult to know when to let go. Greta had left her to pack Sophie's bag, until Carson was comfortable Sophie would have everything she'd need. They'd agreed on a time, and a four hour window was a lot, but it was also okay if it was cut short. There was no pressure today, and Carson recognised Greta's mindfulness in that regard.
"Um..." Still, Carson wanted to repay Greta's consideration with some form of progress. She had to try. "They can pick her up."
"You sure?"
And Carson's honesty. That was what Greta had asked for, after all.
"Not really. But it'll—I know she'll be okay with them in the car. They'll have Theo too."
It was awkward with a baby, but it felt nice when Greta pulled her into a lingering hug with her free arm. "They will; Jo is an expert in fitting a baby seat and Flo is a careful driver. I was going to follow behind them."
"Yeah. Please. That sounds—yeah, I like that."
"It's okay. We still good for Le Pain?"
"Definitely. I'm kinda hungry."
"You're always a little hungry. That was the first sign that you weren't feeling yourself." Greta squeezed her shoulders and kissed the tip of Carson's nose. "I know you, Shaw."
Carson sighed, her eyes slipping closed. "Thank you."
“Thank me with bread. You're not the only one needing food. The only one who isn't, is her." Greta gave Sophie a bounce, who was still eyeing off the daisies that had been grievously stolen from her. "The bag has a spare bottle, just in case," Greta preempted Carson, who thought it, but never got so far as to say it.
"Okay, yeah. That's good, thank you." Carson tickled a finger into Sophie's rib. "You stay away from my flowers. You get to play with Teddy today, and you know how much he loves you."
"It is pretty cute how fascinated he is with her. It might prompt Jo and Flo to talk about giving him a sibling." The phone vibrating in... wherever Greta had it in that dress, distracted Sophie with a start. It also distracted Greta as Carson's gaze glossed over, lost in her own thoughts about giving Sophie another sibling. An idea slowly turning into a need that rarely left Carson. Greta plucked her phone out of her bra. "Jo's downstairs. Ready to go?"
Not really, but it was necessary if Carson wanted some semblance of her adult life back.
"I can't wait."
~*~
The drive to the park was wonderfully peaceful. No grizzling child in the back seat, no plethora of bags and wipes and snacks throughout the car. Just loud music they rarely got to play and Greta's fingers laced with Carson's own. Following Jo's car meant it was easy to hold up a conversation, without having to wonder aloud about where Sophie was and if she was okay.
It felt close enough to before.
At the park, Greta took the time to help Jo set up the strollers and get Sophie settled in. The weather was cool, but not cold, and it was overcast enough that Carson didn't need to worry about heat or sunburn. Only then did a feeling of awkwardness settle over her as she stood to the side with her arms folded and her shoulders up to her ears, watching Greta and her friends go to all this effort just because Carson had completely done a U-turn from struggling to engage with her daughter, to worrying about her all the freaking time.
"It'll be alright, you know." Flo appeared at her side, a curious Teddy easily settled on her hip and his crawling fingers pulling at the collar of Flo's blouse. "Jo is probably more protective of Sophie than she is of Greta." Carson couldn't disagree. Jo was great with Teddy, and had a no-nonsense air about her that deflected trouble. Yeah, Sophie would be safe with Jo. And Flo, of course. "You know, it's okay if you don't feel like you have anything to talk about."
Carson sighed, "I noticed that. In the car. It's either work, or about the baby. It's like we have nothing else in common. I don't even remember what we used to talk about when we were dating—before, I mean."
Flo smiled, but nodded. "Well, your lives do become all about the baby when you become parents. That's normal. Maybe good. You both have this new interest that takes up all your time. And Jo and I got so much closer after he was born. It was like she had nothing to tell me that I didn't already know."
"Tell me there is a 'but' coming."
"But... You find things. Even though you two work together, you don't spend all day together, right?"
"Not really."
"Do you talk to other people?"
"I talk to Bob—my ex-husband's half brother. I talk to him and his wife pretty regularly; they don't have kids but they're really nice. Greta talks to Dottie a lot."
"Maybe start with that. Or things you want to do after today. Plan your next date."
"I—yeah. That could work. I think." Carson nodded at her shuffling feet, until Greta's 'all done' made her look up through her eyelashes. Sophie was comfortably rugged up in the stroller, nearly back to sleep after she had dozed off in Jo's car. If Greta was satisfied, then Carson was too. There was an odd niggle in the back of Carson's head that wanted to only trust her own judgement, blame it on a mother's intuition. But Greta was more than capable, and though they sometimes disagreed, never acted on less than Sophie's best interest.
Greta was Sophie's mother too. Completely. It didn't matter who carried Sophie. Carson wasn't going to let it matter.
Jo manoeuvred the stroller over with practised ease, pulling her baseball cap down tightly over her short, black hair. "You all right, Vis?"
Carson tolerated all of the safety related nicknames Jo bequeathed upon her, because so far none had stuck and—on Greta's advice—it would be better than 'Farm Girl', or whatever Jo might come up with if she ever found out that Carson grew up on a dairy farm in Idaho. This week, it was a shortening of 'hi-vis'.
"Did you bring the taser?" Carson smirked.
"Of course I did."
Greta's head snapped up from giving Sophie a kiss to her cheek to glare at Carson. "What taser?"
"Never you mind, Bird." Jo waved a dismissive hand, taking her son so Flo could prep their own stroller. The nicknames may not be working well, but Carson liked to help Jo tease Greta. That said, Carson also knew the extent to which she would piss off her girlfriend, and when to stop teasing.
Carson very quickly mouthed a 'kidding' at Greta. She cleared her throat, "can we do a lap of the lake before food?"
"Sure thing chicky, whatever you want," Greta softly agreed, coming to Carson's side to rub her lower back. She looked to Flo, who was near enough to listen but remained politely uninterested. "You guys okay to walk ahead and go around the lake?"
"Perfect. We'll have to stop at some point for the d-u-c-k-s though. Teddy will make the ride home a nightmare if we don't feed them."
"Still going through his du—uh... floating bird phase?"
"Could be worse." Flo beamed with a shrug, taking the handles of Teddy's stroller. "Have fun, lovebirds."
And off they went. Taking Sophie with them.
"Hate to tell you this, Shaw, but you have to pay attention to me if we're having a cute date." The fingers that slipped between her own stifled the immediate wonderings about their daughter that were about to tumble out of Carson's mouth.
Thankfully, when Carson looked up, she was met with a tender and forgiving smile. Greta wasn't upset—in fact, she was teasing Carson already.
"You can have all of my attention."
Greta squinted slyly. "A hundred percent of it?"
Carson's eyes slipped to the side, where Jo and Flo were meandering down the path, their pace deliberately slow to stay in sight. This was a break for Greta too, and it wouldn't be fair to assume that she wasn't going to benefit from today's arrangement.
"Eighty?"
"Ninety five?" Greta counted quickly.
"Ninety three."
"Ninety three and we get to make out in the bushes at least once."
It was going to be okay.
Greta's eyes dazzled when Carson leaned closer to whisper, "They have a conservatory, right?"
~*~
It took a few distracted glances to the couple walking about a hundred feet up the path with strollers, before Carson felt her body loosen. Greta didn't call her out on it, but Carson felt the squeeze of her hand pull her attention back.
Flo was correct.
At first, there was silence. The passing conversations of people who seemed to actually have lives filling the gap.
Neither wanted to talk about the same tired subjects. They just walked, hand in hand, following Jo and Flo. It was peaceful, really. But relaxing felt like a wasted opportunity. Even when Teddy sighted a flock of ducks, signalling the mandatory stop along the lake and Carson fell into a park bench, they still hadn't said much.
Greta just crossed one leg over the other, her toe caressing the side of Carson's calf, and laid her arm along the back of the bench behind Carson's back. Carson took one last look at Flo pushing Sophie's stroller back under the shade. She looked down at her lap, a determined frown creasing her brow.
She had to try.
The slap of her hand on Greta's knee felt forceful, awkward, but Carson rubbed the exposed skin with her thumb. "Have you, um... Have you heard from Dottie lately?"
"I did, actually. She checks in now and again on me. See if I'm doing alright—" As if Carson had voiced her immediate worry that she wasn't checking on Greta aloud, Greta's arm along the bench curled around her shoulder. "I don't mean that as a jab, Shaw. "
"Oh, right... Sorry. Okay, well, I'm still... gonna do that. For you." Awkwardness loomed in Carson's mind like the roll of distant thunder. Greta's sweet smile was like sunshine, and it felt like forgiveness that Carson didn't deserve. "Is she okay? Dottie?"
It was shocking how easily, how casually, Greta said with a light scratch of her jaw. "Well, she said they were going to start looking at their options for kids."
"What? Really?" It was one of the reasons Dottie and Greta clicked so well: Dotti had her own troubles with fertility. Bob and Dottie were like Greta in that they so desperately wanted children, but carried that tender hope on top of the pragmatic acceptance of their difficulties. "I hope they can. They'd be such amazing parents."
"I hope it's easy for them. It can be absolute hell. That conversation with my own doctor was hard enough." Carson may never experience the devastation Greta would have felt in that moment of revelation, but Greta's deep sigh and unmoving stare towards Jo and Flo spoke volumes. "I get how Dottie feels because it's both of us. We're both the ones that... can't. In our relationships." Carson knew this, and her heart ached when she talked to them about it. "It's worse for her, because as great as Bob is, he can't carry a child." Greta gave her head a shake, as if to brush off a lingering worry that couldn't hurt her anymore. "But I have you, so... lucky me. And they're going to try, which is really great."
Carson frowned at the laced fingers in her lap, her persistent thoughts finding ground in reality. It was a growing wish that felt unsupportable. Until now. "Would you do it?"
"Do what?"
"IVF? Or whatever we had to do if we wanted a baby. Another one. Together." The question fell from Carson's lips before she thought about how to word it well.
Thankfully, Greta's brow furrowed, like she knew it was a silly idea but appreciated the question anyway. "Carse, we already have a baby. You're enough, and Chickpea is more than enough for me. I've already got everything I want."
"I know but..." Carson turned into her, clutching Greta's hand on her lap. "...I mean, if it was me. Carrying again. If we could do everything together, from the start—because I love you." At this, Greta smiled and pressed a kiss to Carson's temple. "I don't want you to miss anything."
"Pretty sure I didn't miss much, Shaw," Greta chuckled, perhaps indulgently. "I fell for you long before we hooked up in the elevator, so when you told me you felt the same and we both wanted to go on a date—fuck so much happened all at once."
Carson kissed her shoulder. "So much. And it was great. All of it. I think it was one of the best days of my life. Rain and broken elevator and everything."
"Mm... Me too. God, when you told me you were pregnant, it felt like more good news. And it was like you were announcing it to me, and we were already together. Because we liked each other for so long before that night. Clearly I wasn't upset about it."
"No, no. You weren't."
"Look, Shaw, in another way, the idea of making love to my girlfriend—fiancée, wife, whatever..." They smirked to each other. "...and then seeing you falling pregnant with our kid: fuck, that's hot. In the way I like."
She may need Greta to explain it later, but Carson knew Greta well enough to believe Greta's arousal was founded on genuinely good intentions. Besides, the idea of Greta fucking her into absolute oblivion and then showering her in sweet, tender care because of Carson's pregnancy felt like a win-win for both of them.
Carson leaned in closer to whisper in Greta's ear and was impishly tickled when Greta shivered at her, "Want to fuck me until you knock me up?"
The sharp draw of breath, the movement of Greta's throat as she swallowed... Carson knew the effect her words had on Greta.
"Carson, don't distract me or I'll drag your butt back home right now and sink the strap deep into you." Not an unpleasant prospect at all. They'd barely started to use a strap before it became uncomfortable for Carson and Greta threw it into the back of the drawer to gather dust in response. It had yet to make a reappearance, but Carson definitely enjoyed it. If only she could get past her ever-present fear of Greta seeing her changed figure.
They both shifted on the bench, pulling away from each other just enough to be suitable for a public space. Carson played with the fingers draped over her shoulder as they both took in the lake, occasionally distracted by Teddy chasing ducks down the path. The question still hung between them.
Carson had to know. "I—I love her. I do. But I didn't get to plan anything, she was just suddenly there. I didn't get to sit and deliberately decide if I wanted to have a kid and even though I knew I wanted to keep her, you didn't get any say in my decision."
"I got to decide if I wanted to be involved though. I could have politely stepped back when I found out you were pregnant."
"True, and I'm glad you didn't. But, we didn't get to plan her together—
"Shaw."
"What?"
"A planned baby isn't more special than one who isn't."
"No! No, I know that. It's not better than her. Or us. I get that—actually, forget the planning then. But if we could do it for a second one, would you want to? With me? Because it's something we want to do together. Because you love kids and I'm finally starting to love being a Mom because of you. And her. And I want that with you?"
Carson would have grinned with excitement, maybe even kissed Greta again, if not for the sadness in Greta's voice when she whispered "Yes..."
"...But?"
"But... When I realised I wanted to be with women, I spent years daydreaming about what it would be like to have a wife and little kids that looked like her. Or me. And then I got a bitter dose of reality: that I couldn't have kids or how fucking hard it would be to find my person. Which doesn't matter anyway because now I have a kid that looks exactly like my—hopefully, my future wife." Greta pinned her with an intense stare. "But all that aside: I watched you go through a rough labour, Carson, and I'm not going to ask you to go through the depression again. Not for me. I'd choose to have you healthy and our one Chickpea, over that struggle for a second baby. If it was my choice."
It was a sweet sentiment, and Carson couldn't discern her complicated feelings. It seemed noble of Greta to prioritise Carson's health over her dreams. And as much as Carson wanted to explore the idea with Greta, now, she felt guilty for bringing it up.
Greta pulled Carson in and pressed her forehead into Carson's temple. "Babe, listen, I have a wonderful, beautiful girlfriend, and an amazing daughter. You've given me enough of my dreams. Everything we do for our family from here is a new one. More kids, marriage, buying a house, a dog... whatever. But if you want to carry another baby: I can't make that choice for you. If you decide to add one more to our perfect little family, then I'm on board. I'm brave enough to get my hopes up again for you."
It gave Carson a lot to think about.
Carson didn't answer, now understanding where Greta stood on the matter, but she did cup Greta's cheek to kiss her.
It was a stretch to their budget, but Greta insisted on buying lunch for Flo and Jo. Not only could Carson sit at the little café and eat more bread than she'd allowed herself in months, but she actually felt enough at ease to wave off their friends as they disappeared for a short walk to settle a restless Teddy. It was barely ten minutes before Flo returned with Sophie and sat with Jo at a distant table, but it felt like an achievement for Carson.
To be able to not only be completely present with Greta and giggle over a coffee, but she managed to not feel guilty about putting her daughter aside in her head. Sophie was safe, and Greta was here.
They played with each other's fingers across the table and Greta scrunched her nose at Carson's less-than-subtle flirting. They gently argued over who would pay, even though they had mostly joined finances so it didn't matter anyway. When they got up and walked again, Carson laced her fingers with Greta's and though she still kept tabs on Sophie, she let herself enjoy being with Greta without feeling like it was taking something away from their little girl.
Carson felt like a girlfriend again. Like she wasn't letting Greta down in that way.
She still didn't want to have sex when they got home, she couldn't. She wasn't ready yet.
Soon, though. The first step hadn't been so scary.
The First Night Back Together
Carson had been thinking about it.
Quite a lot, if she was honest. After their first successful date, a second faux double-date followed the next weekend. When Greta brought up their next, Carson rolled her bottom lip between her teeth until she awkwardly gathered her courage and asked if, maybe, they could get a coffee at their favourite café around the corner from their apartment while Flo and Jo babysat Sophie. At their house. Out of sight.
It wasn't so bad.
It wasn't perfect either. Greta held her tightly and awkwardly across the corner of their little table when Carson burst into tears, blindsided by a wave of sadness. Greta rocked her as Carson berated herself for offloading their daughter for an hour, then for ruining their coffee date. Nonsense, she was lovingly assured. Carson pulled herself together and made the most of their last twenty minutes.
But it was another important step for Carson. They couldn't completely go back to how they were when everything was shiny and new. There was a new normal, one for which Greta was obviously more prepared, but Carson finally felt like she had caught up.
Except for one thing.
Now, as Carson stood in front of the mirror, skin still glistening from the shower below the warmth of her blue towel... Carson dared to plan something. 'Something' being the operative word. She'd only gotten so far as to lock Kit in the office with her food and water. Carson didn't get much further than that, let alone how she was actually going to proposition her girlfriend. She could just greet Greta in her towel, she supposed.
Intuitively, Carson knew it wouldn't take much to draw Greta's attention and Greta made it no secret that she missed fucking around together. It wasn't pressure, but her position on the subject was clear as day.
God, it didn't have to be a full seduction! She could surprise Greta by sending Sophie to Jo's again, but it made Carson itch with how often they called upon Greta's friend. Jo and Flo deserved a break, or a child-free afternoon themselves. Especially how obvious Carson's plans might be if she asked them to take Sophie for a few hours in the evening. Flo's teasing, Carson could handle. But Jo’s—yikes. Jo would never let Carson forget.
The house was quiet though. Sophie was fed, already sound asleep in her room. They could... Yeah. Yeah, they could. Quietly. No grandeur or setup, because that would undoubtedly make Carson clam up. But... something. A little simple and subdued something.
Carson nodded to herself, and untucked the towel around her chest. The beginnings of regrowth on her legs caught on the cotton as she dried herself off, and she had gambled on the need to wash her hair. It was a little tangled, the beginnings of oily, but nothing that wouldn't survive another day. Reminiscent of their first date, when she had no time to prepare and tried to fuck Greta at the end of the night. Hardly a shined and polished seductress. Regardless, Carson wasn't going to retreat to the shower to tidy herself up.
Like she had told Greta: this wasn't their reality.
All she had was bigger boobs with changed nipples to match, cellulite at her hips and stretch marks on her stomach, which still had the soft, wrinkled skin that wouldn't go back to how it was.
Carson chuckled at her naked self in the mirror: lucky for her, Greta was particularly attracted to the physical changes that came with motherhood. She loved to cup Carson's boobs as she slept, curled along the length of Carson's back like a warm blanket. Greta's long fingers found purchase on the curve of Carson's hips when they made out, especially if they were stealing a cheeky kiss at work.
Carson nodded, and threw on her favourite oversized T-shirt and cotton shorts. As long as Sophie stayed asleep, Carson was willing to see where the evening took them.
~*~
Carson's whole body twitched when she heard the front door open and Greta's soft 'Hey Momma!' rang through their apartment. Carson nearly put her book on the side table and went to meet her girlfriend, but she cast her eyes to the windows and the orange glow of impending sunset. Sophie was still quiet, save the usual little murmurs in her sleep that peeped through the baby monitor on Greta's side of the bed.
Instead, Carson took a deep breath and pinched the pages of her book tightly. Footsteps echoed outside their bedroom as Greta poked her head into Sophie's room, and, apparently satisfied that their baby girl was fine—which was reassuring to Carson in itself—continued until she appeared in the bedroom door with a pleased smile.
Greta was barely awake when Carson left for work in the morning—a testament to Carson's improved ability to handle Sophie in the morning now—and she hadn't seen Greta at work today but how she wished she did! Greta had, apparently, spent the whole day in a black power suit and sheer stockings for a meeting with some big-ticket contractors. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.
Fuck.
Carson lost all interest in her book. It fell onto her stomach when Greta swept in, tossed her jacket on the bed, popping the buttons of her perfectly-fitted white blouse with one hand and ruffling her red curls with the other.
"Ugh, you have the right idea," Greta half whispered with a grin, leaning over Carson to quickly peck her lips. Like it was just another day when Greta wouldn't be greeted with Carson's sexy plans. Little did she know. "You'd think the supply chain would have recovered by now but we're still getting bullshit answers blaming COVID and long lead times pushing back the schedule!" Carson was barely hanging onto Greta's words as she watched Greta peel off her stockings, hang up her jacket and unzip her skirt. Greta may be ridding herself of her work clothes, but it was a damn striptease to Carson right now. "Seriously, when the customer wants this much fucking marble, they should expect some form of delay..."
Carson wondered how naked Greta might become while remaining completely oblivious to Carson's staring. She didn't want to think that Greta had forgotten what Carson's desire looked like, but then again, Carson couldn't blame Greta if she did either. Instead of guilt, Carson let the feeling drive her determination to remedy that situation.
Greta stopped in her bra and underwear, wearily crawling from the foot of the bed to collapse on Carson's side, an arm slung over Carson's stomach and her nose in Carson's neck. "Reckon we can squeeze in a whole nap before she wakes up?"
"Long day?" Carson quietly laid her forgotten book aside and shuffled lower on the bed to get her arm around Greta and nuzzle her nose over Greta's hair. Greta groaned into her neck.
"A good day. Meeting went well; we're not getting penalised for the phase four delays. But fucking long. I got a load of evidence for why I deserve a pay raise, I swear." Carson reached down her side and took Greta's hand, and lifted it to cover her own breast. Greta hummed happily in Carson's ear. "Mm... boob."
Carson's hand stayed over Greta's. She waited. Felt Greta lift her head, a curious frown meeting Carson's determined gaze. "Oh?"
Greta came willingly, though with no shortage of confusion tinged with sweet hope, when Carson hooked her ankle on the back of Greta's knee and pulled Greta on top of her. Carson pressed a finger up to Greta's lips. "She's asleep. I put Kit away. We can... you know. If we're quiet? Maybe?"
Despite the hesitancy in Greta's voice, Greta slid her thigh between Carson's legs. "Like this? I can not look if you like?" Greta ran tingling trails up and down Carson's sides, over the top of her shirt.
"I, uh, I... I want you to look. Really." Greta crawled back at the lightest of Carson's nudge to give her room to sit up, swallow the lump in her throat and take off her shirt. The air was cool, and prickled Carson's skin. Carson's chest felt tight, until she took a deep breath and looked at Greta. Greta, her loving partner, who looked at her with sparkling eyes like Carson was her favourite snack. "’Cause... Even now we have her... I'm still your girlfriend. Right?"
Greta always felt like a protective blanket when she touched Carson. Be it when Carson curled into a miserable ball in bed and Greta spooned her from behind, or trapped her against a wall to kiss her silly, or inserted herself between Carson and whatever threatened or upset her. Greta had her own vulnerabilities, but she made Carson feel safe. Greta knew Carson was being brave and needed a moment to hide and breathe.
Carson fell back into the pillows and soft blankets, the warmth of Greta's body covering her own. Greta kissed her slowly, but deeply. A hand instantly tangled in Carson's hair and another hiked Carson's knee up over Greta's hip. Yes, Carson was perfectly fine with Greta taking some of the lead. She'd check in; she always did. Greta pulled back far enough to huskily whisper into Carson's open mouth, "Yes. For now. Until our baby has my name and then I ask you to take mine as well."
Oh how Carson fucking missed the needy roll of Greta's hip, the pressure. "I miss you. I'm sorry— Sorry, I can't get out of my own head. But I want this. You. I just can't show myself off yet."
Greta dropped a kiss to her chin, her jaw. Peppered little nibbles down her neck. "Do you look at me any differently, Shaw?"
Was Greta kidding? Carson had her own personal Aphrodite laid across her bod—Sweet fuck, that one spot just below her ear. "Uh. No... you're, um, still as beautiful as the day I met you." Was that her voice? She hadn't sighed like that in... months. Damn.
Greta's head lifted, eyes low and dreamy as her cool fingertips traced a half circle under Carson's breast. "But I became a Mom too when she was born, right?"
Greta had to be going somewhere with this, surely. Carson's growing arousal tempered her frustration with what felt like a conversation they'd had before. Still, the questions sounded like... almost playful teasing sprinkled over Greta's relentless lips and hands. Carson had no desire to shy away from the way Greta was turning her on. It had been so long.
"Of cour—Oh, right there... Um, of course. But I—" Oh fuck, Greta's tongue ran between the valley of her boobs and Carson groaned. Loudly. Greta snapped a hand over Carson's mouth and pinned her with a smirk that made the voice in Carson's head say, be a good girl for me. Carson was still panting, quietly this time, when Greta carefully took her hand away. "I just have to get used to seeing what it did to me. It's different. An actual Mom bod now."
Teeth nipped at the soft flesh of Carson's breast, leaving a pink mark. Greta didn't answer immediately, content to capture Carson in a libidinous daze as her fingertips lightly traced the scars on Carson's stomach, the different textures left behind. It wasn't to tease, and Carson appreciated that Greta wasn't looking. Her fingers simply felt, and... they admired.
"Mm... I don't think so." Greta whispered, the puffs air cooling the wet skin left behind. "You're still you, Carson. I want you just as much now as I did when I first saw you." Her thumbs brushed over a particularly long, indented mark. "Your body paid a price so we can both be mothers."
Greta crawled back and—thankfully—gave Carson a once over before she unclipped her own bra and pulled Carson's shorts off. Greta dug her knees against the inside of Carson's thighs, opening her legs wider. Carson covered over her own mouth when Greta pressed a flattened hand over Carson's exposed centre. It happened so quickly, Carson didn't have time to think. It was, perhaps, a good thing. Either way, Carson was all for Greta's directness.
"But... You're her Momma. Not mine. And while I love what you did to be that..." Her middle finger pressed deeper, teasing her entrance and applying pressure to Carson's clit when Greta laid down. Greta's thigh returned, hips rolling in a rhythm that made Carson's eye's roll and a little choke escaped. "...You're not my mother. And I have never thought of you like that. You're the love of my life, sweetheart. You're the beautiful woman—Yes Shaw, you are, don't fight me on this—the beautiful woman I get to ogle at work and sleep next to at night." Another press of her fingers to Carson's clit, another absolutely filthy kiss. Greta pulled back and whispered ardently, "So let me want you and show my admiration, okay?"
Carson nodded, finally understanding. "Jesus— please do."
Greta brushed her nose against Carson's, and Carson felt the tips of two fingers slip inside her. Just to the second knuckles but it had been far too long. "And then I'm going to need you to be good for me and come, without making a single sound."
Knowing that that was a condition of this reunion was one thing, enacting it, as Carson now realised, was quite another.
"Fuck, Gre—" Thankfully Greta swallowed her moan as Carson's cunt took in the long, talented fingers that slid fully inside. Greta was the one that responded to praise, not Carson. Then again, Carson's senses were already so sensitive, she could—fuck it, she was definitely going to come by Greta's fingers and slow kisses alone.
Enough of Firsts: It's Time to Consider a Second.
"Mom!"
Carson sat on the sofa with her cat snoozing against her thigh, her chin resting on her clenched fists and a wistful smile on her face. She was almost a statue in her vigil; perfectly, blissfully content to watch Sophie wiggle across the carpet, crawling until she decided to sit and then shuffle along on her butt towards her Mom.
Little Sophie... Shaw-Gill. As she had been legally for the last six weeks. It was perfect.
Thankfully it went as smoothly as Carson and Charlie initially planned. Carson sent him the paperwork, and he arrived at the courthouse in New York with the documentation signed, on time. It was an awkward first meeting for Greta and Carson's former husband, but at the end of the day, Charlie left with their well wishes and a comfortable degree of kind indifference to Sophie. He had his own life to live and sure, they would need to talk again if Sophie wanted to meet him as an adult, but until then, he was going to go do his own thing.
Carson had practically slumped in relief to see Charlie and feel very little. Some warmth from old memories, and a funny feeling of gratitude that her one night stand had brought her the life she had now. But that was it, really. No odd feelings towards Charlie, or worry that Charlie might decide to re-insert himself into Carson's life. Carson, and her family's, life.
Carson hated to admit it, but Greta had other, very valid reasons to worry. With Charlie, Carson used to fold in on herself. Give in to his puppy-dog eyes and boyish sweetness. It had made Carson indecisive in the past. All too willing to fit into Charlie's white picket fence world. But that was before Greta came into Carson's life and demanded Carson fortify her integrity. There was no going back to Charlie after Greta. Carson was sure of that. More sure than Greta, it seemed.
It made Carson reflect.
Either Carson was poorly conveying her love for Greta, or Greta still grossly underestimated the love she deserved. Well, Carson was confident Greta would have no reason to doubt after today. Their daughter had both their names, that was a good start.
More than 'good', if Carson thought about it. It had changed the entire feel of their home. Greta couldn't really dedicate herself any better to her girlfriend and daughter, so that didn't particularly change. But Greta did get a tender warmth in her eyes when she said it, something like wondrous disbelief. Because she could tell the world that Sophie was hers, and the law agreed with her.
Carson couldn't thank Greta enough for sticking by her side as she managed her postnatal depression. Not for a lack of trying. As much as Carson enjoyed the attention Greta lavished upon her, it didn't quite feel like she was doing enough for Greta in return. Carson had somewhat levelled the playing field since she'd been able to resume their bedroom activities; as much fun as they were having now Carson was no longer inhibited by a perpetual beachball on her stomach, or Greta's fears of hurting her, it was satisfying the wrong craving. Great sex was fun, but Carson wanted that, and more.
She wanted to marry Greta, which she knew was something Greta aspired to as well; that was a given after almost two years and a child together. Carson planned to ask, unless Greta beat her to it. That would come in time. Maybe next year. On her own or Greta's next birthday.
Because their birthdays were thus far muted affairs, both before and after Sophie. Either by restricted finances or time. A year ago, it was Carson's own depression that kept Greta's birthday low-key after they'd had a small disagreement and came back together by the evening. Carson still felt guilty for that—Greta assured her there was no need, but Carson felt it all the same.
A year on, there was only one thing Carson wanted to do for Greta. Greta's birthday felt right for the occasion.
Tucked into her back pocket, was a plain envelope bearing Carson's decision.
There was no doubt in Carson's mind that if she was going to have another child, it would be with Greta. She felt far less indifferent to being a parent now. More than that, Carson wanted to carry Greta's child. Because even though, yes, technically, Greta could, it was well understood that Greta wasn't going to go down that path. Having kids was a cherished, but fragile dream for Greta. The risk wasn't just about failed attempts: it was about breaking Greta's heart over and over again. Carson could, however, use Greta's egg—or Carson's. Carson was willing to pursue that option and maybe reach out to a cousin Greta kept in contact with as a donor. There was still a risk, but less.
It's just... Greta so happily and fully stepped into the role of parent in Charlie's stead, and Carson wanted to step into Greta's shoes for a pregnancy that Greta couldn't do for herself. Kink aside, Greta loved the idea of having a wife carrying her child. Carson could understand that, accepting herself as a lesbian and the realities that came with that. Carson had no doubt that when Greta thought about the possibility, she only saw Carson in that dream.
But none of this was the reason Carson had mulled on the decision for so long.
It was Carson that was the problem.
Greta had said she didn't want Carson to put her body or mental health on the line with another pregnancy, and as desperately as Carson wanted to do it again for Greta, she wasn't going to disregard her partner's concerns. They were real, and Greta was one hundred percent right. Her labour had been difficult, the mental aftermath hadn't been pleasant for either of them. Greta had put the decision in Carson's hands, and Carson took that responsibility to heart. She gave the decision every degree of consideration she could.
Carson quietly discussed it with her doctor on a solo visit, and asked a few questions to an IVF provider. No commitment, just to get a better understanding of if it was possible and the risks. Just preliminary research. Her doctor was hesitant, but comforted by Carson's due diligence. They agreed that pending all other factors, her doctor was willing to support her and Greta.
Now, Carson just had to propose the idea to Greta.
"Come on, baby!" Greta wiggled her extended fingers in the air, attracting Sophie's attention and earning her a wet, toothy grin.
Sophie squeaked a laugh around the fist in her mouth, but cheekily ignored her Mom waiting for her on the floor and butt-shuffled towards the elephant she'd left under the window.
"Fine. Don't walk for me. I'll remember this when you want me to take you somewhere when you're older." Greta planted her hands into the carpet, rolled her neck with a stiff crack. Beside her, Kit stretched, pressing her toe-beans into Greta's foot. "At least Kit loves me. Carse, help, my knees are stuck."
Perfect. Carson smiled, scooted Kit aside and rose—no more nimbly than Greta would have—to her feet, discreetly patting her back pocket to double check the brochure was still there, and took the hands reaching up to her.
"I can stretch them out for you?" Carson smirked as she heaved Greta to her feet, rubbing her thumbs over the back of Greta's hands. Her girlfriend was quick to catch her meaning and pulled Carson in for a kiss.
"Birthday sex later... and it's not me that will be stretching my legs wide open."
Carson intended to dispute that theory, but only after Greta fucked her with the new strap that arrived in the mail yesterday. At least twice.
"Uh huh..." Carson grinned, her arms hooked around Greta's neck. "I have something else."
"Carse, you didn't have to."
Carson's want certainly started to feel like a need. "I know. But I'm really sure you'll like it. And I will too."
Greta narrowed her eyes. "I'm terrible at keeping my thoughts PG around our kid, but my first thought was another dildo."
"You're not terrible. You're beautiful and I'm demanding..." Carson pulled Greta's hips tight against her own. "...Like that. But no, that's not it."
"Is it one of those pink Stanley cups?"
"I—uh, no. I think it's better though."
"Is it big or little?"
"Greta..."
One thing Carson knew about Greta: she loved surprises, but wanted to be slightly prepared for them. A deeply ingrained need to give what she felt was the correct response. She was learning that it wasn't necessary with Carson. But she did prefer a hint.
Greta rolled her eyes and stepped back to hold out her hands. "Since I know you'll find a way to give it to me anyway."
Carson stood for a moment, just to absorb this view of Greta, only the sweet, but incoherent noises of their darling Chickpea babbling to her elephant to break the pensive silence. Completely open, and completely trusting of Carson. Taking everything Carson gave, without thinking she deserved any of it. A wave of gratitude washed over Carson, and it fed the certainty in her soul.
Carson hoped she would be receptive to this too.
Silently, Carson slid the envelope from her pocket and carefully placed it across Greta's open palms. Once her fingers left the paper, and there was no going back, did a spark of nerves hit Carson. All irrational, but it filled Carson with tension nonetheless. She gripped her elbows, until Greta inevitably hugged her in joy or... apology. Greta's brow frowned above her closed eyes, and she opened one, then the other.
She flipped the envelope over, finding nothing on the other side. "Concert tickets?"
"Geez, Gre—Just open it. Please."
Sensing her growing restlessness—a skill at which Greta was now well-practiced—Greta smiled at Carson as she opened it with a long fingernail. "I think the only show I can stand to watch these days is Bluey anywa—"
Greta looked down. Saw the cover of the pamphlet. The name of the clinic. Carson saw the moment Greta realised what she was looking at. A pamphlet for IVF treatment options and a card with an appointment time. Because Greta's hands started to tremble, and she rolled her weight onto the foot that stepped back. "Wait... Is this... Carse, is this?"
The tension in Carson's body fell away. She stepped forward, determined to stay with her love. "Uh huh...Yeah. It is."
"You want..." Greta cleared her throat, a sign that signalled imminent tears. "...You want to have a baby? With me?"
"I do."
The first tear fell. Greta sniffled and chuckled, "I mean, we already have a baby, but you know what I mean."
It was true that when Carson had the life-changing revelation that Greta was in love with her in the elevator, she'd already decided to keep Sophie. Greta came on board and accepted the already-made decision, happily, of course. But Carson didn't start the adventure with Greta in mind. She couldn't change the past, but she could offer Greta that future.
"I know. You've been here with me, the whole time. But Greta, I... I want to choose this future with you. Together. I feel like we fell so perfectly into each other—we've built an amazing life. Wouldn't it be great to have an addition that we planned together too?"
Carson couldn't even blink before Greta was wrapped around her, a hand cupping Carson's jaw to pull her into the most thankful, loving kiss Carson had ever gotten in her life. It wouldn't be remembered as the most fiery, skillful kiss, however. It was firm, and desperate. With all the fumbling and gasping breaths of a woman who didn't know how to convey this much gratitude with a kiss alone. But Greta sure tried. The taste of salt teased their tongues that chased each other; Carson wasn't convinced they were all Greta's.
Greta pulled back, barely a few inches, the paper fallen at their feet as her thumbs brushed Carson's wet cheeks. "You're sure? Carse, do you mean it? Are you sure?"
"Truly. I thought about it. About every step; the good and the bad. I've thought about it for a really long time. I talked to my doctor. I'm sure, Greta." Greta scrunched her nose, and leaned on for another kiss. Carson stopped her, her own hands holding Greta's face to keep her attention to the words Carson was about to say. "There's one more thing I need to tell you."
Greta tried to frown, confused, but still happy. "Carson..."
"I want to carry. For you."
"Well, yeah, you know I can't—"
"Greta, I want to carry your child. Your egg, donor sperm. That woman you dreamed about carrying your baby."
"Carse..."
Well, if Carson thought she'd adequately surprised Greta before, she was quite wrong. Greta stared, wet eyes wide, and Carson felt Greta's entire body shake. She pulled Greta closer, aware that Greta had to lean down but her girlfriend came so willingly.
"I promise I mean it. I know you can't, Greta. I wish I could make that better but it's not something I can change. But I do know that I want to be with you until we're really old and have this family, and... one day... for you to be my wife." If Carson was saying any other words, she might think that she was hurting Greta. The tears flowed freely and Greta shivered in fear. Carson knew Greta's past well enough to see the scared young woman that wanted so desperately and had her dreams taken from her by her own body. She could see the terror of having this hope taken away too. Carson had no such intention. This was a world Greta wanted, and Carson was going to try to give it to her. All she was doing was rebreaking a bone that never healed properly, familiar and aching in a way Greta simply got used to. Carson was going to do her best to set it right. "Step parents are parents that step up, and you did that for me. So please, Greta, please let me do this for you."
Like the bones breaking, Greta collapsed into Carson. The weight of her joy, her sadness, the fucking unfairness of it all and the incredible luck that they'd found one another. All of it. She'd done so well to carry all of it for so long, but with Carson... Greta was safe to break down.
That said, Carson was in no physical condition herself to hold her girlfriend up. She'd tried a few times in the bedroom but it never worked. Once they slid to their knees, it was easier to pull Greta halfway into her lap and hold her in her arms from the floor anyway.
Carson had never heard Greta cry like that. Deep, choking sobs into her shoulder. Greta was saying words that Carson couldn't understand; it didn't matter. Greta's vulnerability was Carson's to protect. Carson held Greta, and rocked her, and laid bandages of whispered I love you's over Greta's wounds. Carson felt the weight of Greta's hope, and gladly took up to the burden with Greta.
"Mom!" Tiny, moist hands fisted around the bottom of Greta's shirt were enough to distract Greta. They tugged, and Greta lifted her red, tear-stained cheeks from Carson's shoulder with a watery chuckle. "Mom-Mom!" Sophie tugged and whined, propped up on one knee and a foot with the loose end of her onesie dragging behind her. Both of Sophie's mothers helped to pull the crawling toddler into the warm space between them.
"Mom's okay, Soph. She's alright." Carson cooed, turning Sophie in her lap to face Greta while she wiped her eyes. Greta laughed, deep and watery. But happy nonetheless.
"Okay is an understatement, Shaw. You're fucking unbelieveable."
"Unbelievable... In a good way?"
"Yes." Greta flicked her hands and scooped Sophie up under her arms. "Come here, baby." Instinctively, Greta gave Sophie a cuddle, rubbing large circles on her back. "Don't worry Chickpea. I'm just really happy. Your Momma gave me an amazing birthday gift."
"We've got to do our research."
"I know."
"And save up for the treatment."
"I know."
"I don't want to disappoint you if it doesn't wor—"
The fingers covering Carson's lips, thankfully, stopped Carson before she tainted the magical atmosphere.
"Carson, honey, I know. I don't care. Not right now." The fingers fell from Carson's lips and stroked the back of Sophie's brown locks. "I'm happy. Even if it doesn't work the way we want it to: you're trying anyway. That's special in itself. Nobody ever gave me that before. But is this really, truly what you want, Carse?"
Of course Carson was trying. She loved Greta. Despite the emotional rollercoaster of the last two years, Carson could honestly say that overall, Sophie and Greta made her happy. Greta came into her life almost by accident, the depression Carson felt after Sophie's birth sucked, but really, was beyond Carson's control. This— this was a happiness Carson could choose.
Carson rolled onto her hip, leaning forwards. She kissed the top of Sophie's head on her way to kiss Greta. Tenderly, and so, so slowly.
"I want this with you, Greta. All of it."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Let's do it."