Although, my mother had stepped in and taken over most of the middle of the night responsibilities where Ryan was concerned, since I was attending high school full-time a couple of weeks after he was born.

But all the same, JJ doesn’t cry or fuss a lot. In fact, he seems like the perfect baby. Sweet, happy, and adorable.

And then, just as his middle name suggests, the winds change a little over a month after Jacob Storm comes into the world.

He becomes more alert, awake for longer periods of time. And he loves to be carried around. I try to use one of those baby carriers, so my hands are free, but it’s like he knows that I’m not actually holding him, and he starts to fuss unless he’s in my arms. His favorite thing to do is stare at my face. It’s sweet, but it also means I can’t get a whole heck of a lot done.

He also decides that three in the morning is a good time to be awake. And not just to feed or have his diaper changed. He legitimately wants to be entertained. This wasn’t one of the things I had to contend with when Ryan was a baby. So it takes some real discipline on my part not to pick him up every single time he makes a noise.

Last night he was up three times. Once for a feeding, once for a diaper change, and once because he felt it was time to play, not sleep. At six-thirty, I give up on the idea of getting any more sleep and settle into Jake’s lounger so I can breastfeed, hoping it will help calm him and allow me to get another twenty minutes of half-sleep. Which is better than no sleep.

I’m sure I look like something the cat dragged in. My hair is pulled up into a messy bun. I keep having to blow strands out of my face and my giant boob is hanging out of my shirt. JJ’s hand rests protectively on the swell, his eyes closed, sucking contentedly.

“That’s the life, right there.” Jake is standing in the middle of the living room. He’s wearing navy dress pants, a white button-down, and a tie that matches his eyes hangs loose around his neck.

I give him a sleepy smile. “Got some boob jealousy?”

He holds his fingers half an inch apart. “Maybe a little.”

“The cleavage might look sweet, but being a feedbag doesn’t scream sexy.”

He crosses the room so he’s standing next to me. “I’ll agree to disagree on that. You’re one hot mama.”

I snort a laugh. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“I’m not lying, Hanna. There’s something ridiculously sexy about seeing you mom like a boss.” He strokes my cheek and tips his head to the side. “How are you doing? You were up a lot last night.”

“I’m okay. Tired. Hoping JJ will want a big, long nap this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stay home today.”

Jake took the diaper change and I took the other two middle of the night disturbances, but the broken sleep isn’t as easy to manage as it was when I was younger. Even the frequent get-up-to-pee in the middle of the night during the last trimester have nothing on this. And I can see the fatigue on Jake’s face. I feel bad that he has to go to work and manage a team while I get to spend my entire day with our son. I can be a total zombie, but he has to be productive and effective. He’s still sexy, even though he looks like he could use at least three more hours of sleep.

“You don’t need to apologize. Playoffs are right around the corner. Queenie’s supposed to stop by this afternoon, and she offered to watch JJ for a couple of hours later in the week so I can do a grocery run.”

“What day is that? Maybe we can work it so we can go together.”

“Like a date?” I ask.

“Mm. Like a date. Which we’ll have to go on one of these days.” Jake’s eyebrows pull together, as though he’s trying to figure out how to make that work.

We skipped over that whole part of the relationship process, going from secret weekends together, to suddenly contending with a later-in-life pregnancy fraught with worries and potential complications.

“We should try scheduling that. In six months to a year from now, we’ll probably be able to swing it.” It’s sort of a joke, sort of not.

“We have built-in babysitters coming out the wazoo. Queenie’s offered a million times to take JJ for a few hours. And when your parents come down to visit next time, we can go on a real date. The kind where I take you out for dinner. Wine you and dine you.”

“I haven’t had a glass of wine in nearly a year, so we should go easy on that part.”

My parents came to visit a few days after JJ was born and stayed with Ryan. It was a little awkward, especially with the way my mom always wants to give advice on how to do things the right way. I bit my tongue and let Jake politely put her in her place. But it was nice to have them visit and for my mom to tell me I’m a good mother. The best part of the visit—which was also the most emotional—was when she asked if she could take a picture of me with both of my sons and told me she knew I would be a great mother to JJ because I’d been a wonderful mother to Ryan, even if he hadn’t known at the time.

“Noted. We’ll go light on the drinks so you don’t fall asleep on me before we get a chance to make out post-date.” He waggles his brows.

“That may have to take place in the back seat of the car if my parents are staying here.” In the post birth-haze phase, there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for snuggling or connection. I miss it. I miss Jake, even though we’re in the same house, under the same roof, sleeping beside each other every night.

“Or.” He holds up a finger and his eyes light up. “We could go back to your house since the lease doesn’t run out for a few more months.”

“Oooh. Now that’s an idea.” And one I hadn’t thought of.

Jake’s phone buzzes with a message. “Let’s put a pin in this conversation for now, but we are definitely going to talk about it later tonight.” He checks his phone. “I should be home around five. I ordered a bunch of those meals for us that have all the ingredients. We can choose whatever looks good to you and we can make it together, sound good?”

“Sure. Sounds great.”

He grabs his suit jacket and heads for the door. Thirty seconds later, he returns because he forgot his keys and his tablet on the kitchen counter. And his travel mug of coffee.

_______________

A FEW DAYS later, Queenie and Ryan come over to watch JJ while Jake and I go grocery shopping.

Since JJ was born, I haven’t been away from him for more than a few minutes. Unless you count sleeping, which I do not.

“I fed him before you came, so he should be good for at least a couple of hours, but if he gets fussy, there’s a bottle of breastmilk in the fridge. It just needs to be put in a warmer for a couple of minutes.” I show Queenie where everything is in the kitchen, and then take her to the nursery where the crib and diaper changing station are set up. We turned the top of the dresser in Jake’s bedroom into a second one, since the bassinet is in there, but over the past week, we’ve been transitioning JJ to his own room.

“We’ll be fine,” Queenie assures me. “You two enjoy grocery shopping and we’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Okay. Just text if you need anything. Or you have questions. We’ll both have our phones.”

“King is a baby whisperer. You have nothing to worry about. And this is good practice for us.” Queenie hands me my purse and pushes me toward the front door, where Jake is waiting for me.