Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The house buzzed with an energy that was part excitement and part disbelief. In the hallway, a little girl stood in her red cardigan and neatly pressed grey pinafore, her hair brushed up into a ponytail with a red bow and her rucksack already slung over her tiny shoulders.

"Are you sure I look like a Year 2?" Betsy Swain asked, twirling for her mums.

Lisa crouched down, adjusting the collar of Betsy’s polo shirt with the precision of a DS and the tenderness of a mother. "You're not just a Year 2, you’re the biggest, bravest one I know."

Across the room, Carla found Betsy's new patent shoes before heading over to help her daughter into them. "You look so grown up, Bets. Are you sure you're not ready for secondary school?"

Betsy giggled and fiddled with Carla's hair as she waited for the buckles to be fastened. “I'm only six, Mum. I can't go to secondary school yet.”

"I dunno, I think you'll be ready before we know it,” Lisa added, her grin softening as she met Carla’s eyes. A shared glance passed between them - equal parts pride and awe. Their girl. In Year 2. The three months since their wedding seemed to have flown by in an instant.

On the walk to the gates, Betsy bounced along the pavement, hand in hand with Carla on one side and Lisa on the other, skipping now and then and already making plans about who she was going to play with at breaktime.

Lisa and Carla tried to walk more slowly, as if trying to savour every step before the inevitable letting go. It had been a beautiful summer: days spent playing together in the garden, endless ice-cream parties and a family holiday in the south of France, which had doubled as a honeymoon.

When they arrived at the school gate, Betsy turned and flung her arms around Lisa’s waist. “Love you, Mummy.”

"Love you more, monkey," Lisa said, holding her tightly for a second too long.

Then it was Carla's turn for a hug. “Bye, Mum. Don’t cry.”

Carla chuckled, brushing a hand down her daughter’s back. “Me? Never. Go on, before they close the doors.”

The bell rang sharply and with that, Betsy bounded off towards her classroom, turning once to wave before disappearing into the blur of bright backpacks and bubbling excitement.

Lisa blinked hard.

“You alright there, Detective Softie?” Carla teased gently, slipping her arm around Lisa’s waist.

“I’m fine. Just… going to miss her, that's all. It's been so nice having her around all the time.”

Carla smiled. “Me too.” She looped her arm through the crook of Lisa's elbow. “Come on. Roy’s?”

By the time they arrived, they were hand in hand, wrapped in that rare kind of early morning peace that Coronation Street seldom offered. Inside, Roy greeted them with a nod and mugs of coffee already halfway poured.

“You’re out early this morning,” he said, placing the mugs down. “First day back at school?”

Carla nodded, voice thick. “She practically ran in.”

Roy offered a soft smile. “Time marches on. Be proud.”

They found their usual spot by the window. Lisa checked her watch.

“I’ve got just under an hour before I’ve got to be at the station. Enough time for a bacon butty to take our minds off of worrying about Betsy, I reckon.”

Carla hesitated, stirring her coffee with far more concentration that it required. “Actually… there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk about.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Oh right? What's that then?”

Carla took a breath, her voice softer now. “I’ve been thinking - remember when we talked a bit after Isla was born? About the idea of maybe having a baby. Together. I mean, I know we said we were happy as we were… well, as we are. And we are. Happy, I mean. Really, really happy.”

Lisa brushed her fingers against Carla's in an effort to stop them from fidgeting wildly with the handle of her mug.

Carla looked up to meet Lisa's eyes. “But we also said we'd talk about it again if we were still… I don't know…” She sighed, almost frustrated by the way her words were escaping before she'd had a chance to form them coherently. “I just keep looking at Betsy, and how happy she is. How happy we are. And I just… I don’t know. It feels like maybe it's time to talk about it again. Is that mad?”

Lisa stared at her for a long while, her fingers still threaded through Carla's; she squeezed them gently. The question settled between them like a delicate thread.

“No darling, it's not mad. I’ve been thinking about it too,” she said finally. “All summer, actually - ever since you were brave enough to tell me how you felt after we got married. I haven't said it out loud yet, but yeah. I see the way she is, the way we are… I think about how I missed everything with Betsy and how much I'd really like to do it all. From the beginning. With you.”

Carla’s shoulders dropped and she let out a long breath, smiling with relief. “Really? I wasn't sure if it was just Isla making me all… I've never felt like that before - never even entertained the thought of it - but you and Betsy… You've made me realise that maybe I could do it. That it's something I actually want.”

Lisa's eyes began to prickle as she looked deeply into her wife's and saw her desire - her open honesty. “Let’s talk about it properly, when I get home tonight. We’ve built this life together, Carla, and if we're really going to add to it, I want to do it right.”

----

It was surprising how quickly they fell back into the quiet, predictable rhythm of post-school routines: animated debates over tea, practising spellings and reading whichever new book Betsy had chosen from the library that day.

By the time the clock ticked past six, the living room had taken on a familiar sight.

On the sofa, Betsy and several of her cuddly toys lay in a tangled heap under the woollen throw Carla had tucked over her. Her hair stuck to her forehead with the sweat of sleep, cheeks flushed, little mouth parted.

When Lisa came in from her shift, she leaned in the doorway, pulling off her boots and shrugging off her jacket.

“She always ends up like this,” she whispered, eyes never leaving her daughter, “when she first goes back.”

Carla moved over to her, silently. She had a tea towel slung over one shoulder, having just cleared the remnants of dinner away.

“She was exhausted,” she said, smiling fondly. “Wouldn’t admit it, of course. Swore blind she wasn't tired, even though she was yawning every thirty seconds.”

Lisa chuckled under her breath, eyes filling. “It shouldn’t make me this emotional, but…”

“I know,” Carla said gently, sliding an arm around Lisa’s waist.

For a few minutes they stood there in the hush, the TV on low in the background - a wildlife programme Betsy’d begged Carla to let her watch before her bath. The light from the screen cast soft shadows over her peaceful face.

Lisa swallowed and finally looked away from Betsy, her eyes finding Carla’s. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About having a baby. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it, actually.”

Carla’s brow softened with surprise, her lips parting just alfraction. “Really?”

Lisa nodded. “All day. And now, looking at her, it just feels clearer. I want to. I want us to have a baby. I want to do it together. From the start.”

Carla let out a slow breath, the kind that came with big feelings and careful hope. “Are you sure? I don't want you to feel any kind of pressure.”

Lisa gave a small laugh. “I’ve never been more sure. Look at our home. Look at her. Look at us . I know we’re tired and busy and maybe slightly insane… but I’ve got more love to give and I know you have too.”

Carla blinked a few times, the tough exterior she wore like a second skin peeling away in that quiet, private way she allowed only Lisa to see.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Then let’s do it. Let’s work it out together.”

Lisa leaned in and kissed her gently, a long, warm press of lips that spoke of gratitude and certainty and something new blooming in the space between them.

They pulled apart slowly, and looked again at the sofa.

Betsy gave a sleepy murmur, nuzzling further into the blanket.

Carla smiled. “I wonder what she'll say.”

Chapter Text

Carla and Lisa lay on their backs in bed, legs tangled, with the duvet pulled up to their waists. Surprisingly, Betsy hadn’t stirred yet and in this rare, golden pocket of stillness, neither woman reached for her phone or rushed to start the day.

There was just silence. Warmth. Breath. Thought.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Carla said softly, breaking the quiet.

Lisa turned her head, one hand resting underneath her pillow. “The baby?”

Carla nodded. “Feels surreal. Like we’re already talking about it like it’s a real person.”

Lisa smiled gently. “I know what you mean. Like he or she is just waiting in the wings.”

Carla shifted slightly to face her, propping her head up on her hand. “How would we… actually do it? I mean, I know the basics obviously. But not all our options.”

Lisa gave a soft laugh. “I mean, I think I remember most of it now, if you want me to talk you through it?”

“I want to know all of it. I want to understand,” Carla said. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m catching up.”

Lisa inhaled slowly, then nodded. “Okay. So, there’s IUI and IVF. IVF is more invasive, more expensive. They collect eggs, fertilise them outside the body, then implant the embryo. It’s what Becky and I looked into at first, but in the end we did IUI.”

Carla’s brow furrowed gently. “That’s the one where they… insert the sperm, right? Like the old fashioned way without the… you know, the actual old fashioned bit.”

Lisa chuckled, “Exactly. Less clinical than IVF, cheaper, and it worked for us after a few tries. We chose a donor from a bank - one Becky liked, actually. He'd had a good education and ran marathons.”

Carla smiled at the thought of Becky, her presence still lingering in the photo of her and Lisa on the dressing table and in Betsy every time she smiled. “Did you ever consider carrying Betsy back then?”

Lisa hesitated. Then she said, “No. I didn’t want to. I was too busy, too… ambitious. I was determined to make DS and Becky was happy to take the time out instead. She wanted to.”

Carla was quiet, letting the admission settle.

Lisa turned her eyes back to the ceiling. “But lately… I don’t know. Watching Betsy grow up with so much of Bex in her. It’s beautiful. Sometimes I look at her and it hits me - I love her more than anything, but… I wonder what it would be like to look at a baby and see some of me too. My nose. My eyes. Maybe even my stubborn streak.”

Carla reached out and took her hand, her thumb brushing gently across Lisa’s knuckles. “Well she's definitely got that from you, Lise,” she said, with a smile.

Lisa blinked back something sharp in her eyes. “It sounds selfish, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Carla said immediately, voice low but sure. “Lisa… it’s not selfish to want to see yourself in your child. That’s human. And brave. And honest.”

Lisa swallowed hard. “How would you feel about that? Would you want to… you know… have the baby?”

“What? And ruin this?!” Carla gasped in mock shock, gesturing with a hand that ran dramatically down the length of her perfectly toned body.

Lisa rolled her eyes softly. “I'm serious, Carla. If you want to do this, I don't want to take it from you.”

Carla gave her a look that made Lisa feel steady again. “Honestly? I don't think I do. I love the thought of it… of, I suppose, the magic of it, but I've just never really imagined I'd ever actually do it. Besides, I’d love nothing more than a little girl with your blonde hair or a boy with your determination, who sticks his tongue out like you do when you’re thinking too hard.”

Lisa’s lips quirked.

“You deserve this,” Carla went on, softer now. “If it's truly what you want. I’d do it if you didn't, sure. But I want you to have that chance. And I’d be right there for every single part of it.”

Lisa exhaled, long and slow, like something deep inside her had finally unclenched.

“Besides,” Carla added with a smirk, “I've got a few years on you so your eggs must be fresher than mine.”

That made Lisa laugh, a tinkly sound that still made Carla’s knees feel weak. “So we look into a donor, then?”

Carla nodded. “We do it properly. Take our time. Make the right choices. Together.”

A rustling sound echoed from the landing - light footsteps followed by half-asleep grumbling.

Carla smiled. “Looks like she's awake.”

Lisa laughed under her breath. “We’ve got time to make this happen.”

“We don't have to rush anything,” Carla said.

----

It was six weeks later and Betsy had finally gone to bed after a solid hour of bedtime negotiations, two storybooks, and a last minute debate over whether her glittery unicorn pyjamas would be dry enough to wear tomorrow night.

Lisa and Carla had earned their reward: a quiet living room, two generous glasses of red wine and the glow of the laptop balanced on Carla’s knees.

“Well,” Carla said, tucking her feet under herself on the sofa and raising her glass, “here we are. Choosing the genetic contributor to our future child with the help of a delicious Malbec and the internet. How very modern.”

Lisa grinned and clinked her glass against Carla’s. “To science.”

Carla smirked. “To wine-fuelled eugenics.”

Lisa nearly choked on her drink, swatting her wife's shoulder with the back of her hand. “Don’t say that! You’ll get us taken off the clinic's list.”

They both giggled, giddy with excitement.

Lisa tapped the mousepad. “Alright. So we start with the basics - height, hair colour, eye colour, ethnicity…”

“Oh good,” Carla said, eyes narrowing playfully. “Let’s make this sound exactly like the casting call for a shampoo advert.”

Lisa nudged her. “Oi. We want someone healthy: that's most important.”

Carla leaned over and squinted at the screen. “Okay, hold on - this one says ‘avid rock climber and vegan environmental lawyer’. That sounds… like a lot.”

They both snorted and scrolled on.

“Ooh,” Lisa paused. “This one: brown hair, green eyes, dimples, apparently loves music and fashion. That’s… actually kind of like you.”

Carla blinked. “Me?”

Lisa looked at her properly. “Yeah. I was thinking… It'd be nice for the baby to have some things that make it like you. If I’m carrying it, and we're using my egg, I’d love it if they looked a bit like you. Your eyes, maybe. Your complexion. So they feel like both of us.”

Carla was still, glass paused mid-sip.

A silence passed before she gently put her glass down and cupped Lisa’s cheek. “You daft woman. You're already making me well up and you’re not even pregnant.”

Lisa laughed, a little teary herself. “I just… you know. It’s important to me. That it feels like ours."

Carla leaned in and kissed her, soft and lingering, before pulling away just enough to whisper, “It already does. But I’d love that too. A little green-eyed tornado running around with my determination and your hair? God help us all.”

They scrolled more, the wine mellowing their nerves, their chatter weaving between silliness and sincerity.

“What about this one?” Lisa asked. “Brown eyes, musician, likes hiking, favourite film’s The Sound of Music.”

Carla pulled a face. “Can’t do it. If I have to listen to ‘Edelweiss’ for the next ten years, I’ll actually lose my mind.”

Lisa laughed so loudly they had to wait for a moment in silence in case they’d woken Betsy up.

Eventually, they paused the search, their eyes glassy and content, shoulders touching. The laptop sat still between them, endless donor profiles frozen in the open tabs.

“You know what’s funny?” Carla murmured, resting her head on Lisa’s shoulder. “I thought this bit would feel weird - clinical - but it’s kind of exciting, isn’t it?”

Lisa nodded slowly. “It is. It’s like… the first page of something. Looking at these people and wondering if one of them’s going to help make someone we already love, even though we haven’t met them yet.”

Carla turned her face into Lisa’s neck. “Our new little person.”

Lisa kissed her hair. “Whoever they are, they’re going to be so loved. From day one.”

“From before day one,” Carla corrected softly.

Chapter Text

“Hiya love!” Carla called from the kitchen as she heard the front door closing and Lisa kicking off her boots in the hall. She continued to stir, wooden spoon clinking dully against the saucepan.

“In here, Mummy!” came Betsy’s voice from the living room. “I saved you some strawberries!” she added with her mouth clearly full.

Lisa smiled, her heart blooming at the sounds of home. She popped her head in and saw Betsy curled up on the sofa, a bowl balanced on a cushion, with berry-stained cheeks. She blew her a kiss.

“Ta, sweetheart. I’ll be in in a sec.”

She made her way into the kitchen, where Carla stood at the hob, her hair beginning to wave from the steam and an apron slightly askew over her work blouse. She turned when she heard Lisa’s footsteps, face immediately clouding with concern.

“How’d it go? I tried calling but you must've already gone in. It felt awful not being there with you-”

Lisa gently touched her arm. “Carla. Breathe. It’s alright.”

“But I wanted to be there. For all of it.”

Lisa gave her a soft smile. “You’ve been to the last three scans - you’ve already seen more of my insides than a medical student. You’re allowed to miss one. Besides, we can't keep relying on Michelle and Roy to pick Betsy up for us without them knowing something's going on. And anyway…” She glanced briefly at the door, making sure the little ears were still occupied. “You’re going to want to keep 10:30 free tomorrow morning.”

Carla blinked, spoon paused mid-stir. “Why?”

Lisa’s smile widened. “Because they said everything’s looking perfect. Lining’s good, hormone levels are right… they want to do the insemination tomorrow.”

Carla’s eyes went wide. “Tomorrow?”

Lisa nodded, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning too much. “Tomorrow.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other - excitement bubbling under the surface.

Then Carla suddenly rushed forward, pulling Lisa into a fierce hug that almost knocked the breath from her.

“Congratulations on your excellent womb lining,” she whispered dramatically into Lisa’s ear.

Lisa muffled a laugh into Carla’s shoulder. “Thank you. I’ve been working hard on it.”

Carla kissed her cheek, her temple, then stepped back with her hands on Lisa’s upper arms. “Are you okay? Nervous?”

“A bit. Mostly excited. It’s real now.”

Carla nodded, eyes shining. “I’ll text Michelle after tea and see if she can cover for me at the factory tomorrow morning. I’ll be there.”

“You don’t have to rearrange your whole day for me-”

“I do,” Carla said firmly. “This is important. It's special.”

----

By 10:20am, they were sat in the clinic's stiff-backed chairs, which were arranged in neat rows like a school assembly. The tension in Lisa’s shoulders made it feel more like a police interview room than anywhere designed to create new life.

Carla sat next to her, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap, betraying no nerves except for the way her thumb kept reaching up to brush her bottom lip. She’d dressed smartly - as if the doctor might judge them on appearance. Lisa, in her soft hoodie and jeans, felt suddenly underdressed for conception.

“You alright?” Carla asked, her voice quiet but kind.

Lisa gave a tight smile. “Yeah. Just… bit nervous.”

Carla reached over and threaded their fingers together. “I know. Me too.”

Lisa looked at her properly. “You don’t seem it.”

“Darling, I’m internally screaming,” Carla said with a wink.

Lisa laughed softly, squeezing Carla's hand appreciatively. “I’m just trying not to get my hopes up too high. Becky didn’t get pregnant with Betsy until the third try, remember.”

Carla gave her hand a squeeze back. “If it takes three tries, it takes three. Or four or five… But this is try number one, and I’m here with you. We’re doing it together.”

Lisa swallowed the lump in her throat. “I love you, d’you know that?”

“You might've mentioned it before,” Carla said with a smirk, lifting her chin proudly.

Before Lisa could respond, a nurse poked her head out into the corridor and called her name.

Lisa stood up: Carla followed.

The insemination itself was swift - clinical, efficient and over in minutes. Carla blinked when it was done. “That’s it?”

The nurse smiled. “That’s it for today. Now we wait.”

Lisa laughed under her breath as she sat up. “I remember thinking the same thing. Like… there's all this build-up and then - boom, done.”

----

Back at the house, Carla refused to let Lisa lift a finger. Betsy was at school, Michelle had things in hand at Underworld and the house was unusually quiet.

Carla guided Lisa to their bed with the determination of a woman on a mission. “Right then. Legs up.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I read online it helps. Gravity or... something.” Carla waved a cushion. “Feet on the wall. Come on, let’s give those little swimmers a head start.”

Lisa flopped back onto the mattress, laughing. “That’s not science, that’s an old wives’ tale.”

“Well, no stone left unturned. Come on, lie down and point your toes at the ceiling.”

Obediently, Lisa positioned herself, her legs elevated awkwardly with a couple of pillows and Carla’s enthusiastic arrangement of another cushion under her hips.

Carla lay down next to her on the duvet, resting on her side, facing her. She reached for Lisa’s hand again and swirled circles on her palm with a finger.

“After all that talking,” Carla murmured, her voice softer now, “all the scans, the appointments, the late-night planning sessions… this is the first time it actually might happen.”

Lisa turned her head to look at her. “I know.”

“I mean, there could be the beginning of a baby growing already. Right now.”

Lisa blinked, her eyes glossy. “That’s a strange thought, isn’t it?”

Carla nodded. “A beautiful one.”

They lay there in the hush of their shared bedroom, where memories had already made a home - where bedtime stories were read and tears had been comforted and laughter had spilled from under the covers more times than either of them could count.

“Whatever happens,” Carla whispered, “this was the best decision we’ve ever made.”

Lisa squeezed her hand. “Even if we have to do it again, or again after that. I’m glad we've started.”

Carla smiled. “I’ve never been more glad of anything. Well, except for somehow convincing you to marry me. That was quite an achievement.”

Lisa laughed, deep and full and easy now. “You’re ridiculous.”

They stayed in bed, just talking in that hushed way for a long time: legs raised, hands held, hearts wide open.

Chapter Text

The days didn’t drag - not exactly. Life with a nearly seven-year-old Betsy meant the time passed in paint-splattered school uniforms, endless reading books and cereal bowls left half-eaten on the table. But for Lisa and Carla, the quiet moments in between felt heavy with something unsaid - a secret tucked into the hours that only they shared.

They hadn’t told anyone: not Roy, not even Michelle. The only people who knew were the two of them. It was too early to say it out loud - too early to risk shattering it with outside opinions or other people's hope - but the secret hummed between them. A maybe, a might be, a tiny what if.

It changed everything.

Lisa caught Carla watching her across the café one afternoon, her chin resting in her hand and a dreamy little smile playing on her lips as she watched Lisa order their lunch.

“What?” Lisa mouthed with a raised brow, her lips twitching.

Carla just shook her head and mouthed back, Nothing. Just you.

A few nights later, while folding clean washing in the living room, Lisa felt Carla press a quick kiss to the top of her head before disappearing upstairs to run Betsy's bath. Another night, Carla poured her a cup of tea and slid it across the table with a quiet, “Camomile. Just in case.” She didn’t say “in case you’re pregnant,” but Lisa heard it anyway.

Carla was all hope - quiet, steady and stubborn as ever. She read articles on early symptoms and took secret pleasure in decoding every yawn Lisa gave, every different movement she made. Lisa let her - let her hope - but she didn’t let herself go there.

She’d done this part before. The waiting. The wondering. The falling asleep thinking maybe and waking up thinking probably not. She remembered Becky crying in the shower after the first try didn’t work, and the second. Lisa had been the strong one back then; she didn’t mind being the strong one now.

Until she did.

It was eleven days in, a Sunday morning, and the house was still quiet. Betsy was at a birthday party - the kind that involved a bouncy castle and far too much sugar. Lisa was curled up on the sofa in her dressing gown, the mug of tea long gone cold in her hands. Carla walked in from the kitchen carrying a pile of freshly dried towels and paused when she saw the look on Lisa’s face.

“Something on yer mind?” Carla asked softly, coming to sit beside her.

Lisa didn’t answer straight away. She put the mug down on the coffee table and picked at the sleeve of her dressing gown.

“I keep pretending I’m not bothered either way,” she said quietly. “Like I’m just... being realistic. And I am. I am realistic. But I think… I think I’m going to be really sad if it doesn’t work.”

Carla took her hand immediately, her voice low. “Come here.”

Lisa let herself be pulled into her arms, head resting on Carla’s shoulder as the pile of towels slipped off the arm of the sofa and onto the floor. Carla wrapped both arms around her and held her close.

“It’s okay to want it,” Carla murmured. “It’s okay to be scared.”

Lisa’s voice was muffled. “It’s just, I told myself I wouldn’t feel anything yet - not until we knew - but now it’s all I think about. Every twinge. Every hour.”

“I know,” Carla whispered. “Me too.”

Lisa looked up at her. “What if it doesn’t work?”

Carla stroked her hair, gently. “Then we’ll be sad. For a little while. But we won’t stop. We’ll go again. We’ll do whatever it takes until we’re holding our baby in our arms. Yours and mine. I promise.”

Lisa’s throat ached as she nodded.

They sat like that for a while, arms wrapped around each other, the silence broken only by the distant echo of children’s laughter somewhere outside.

----

A few days later, the thin white stick lay on the bathroom side, face down, as if turning it over again might somehow change the answer. Lisa stared at it anyway, her arms folded tightly across her chest, knuckles pressed into her sides. She wasn’t crying. Not yet.

Carla stood beside her silently, one hand braced on the edge of the sink. Her reflection in the mirror looked calm, composed - too composed. Two weeks of waiting had led to this one tiny line, stark and definitive.

Lisa cleared her throat, the sound brittle in the tiled room. “Well. That’s that then.”

Carla wanted to say something - anything - but the words wouldn’t come. Not without the tears beginning to fall and she knew Lisa didn't need that. Instead, she nodded and placed a gentle hand on Lisa’s shoulder. The silence between them was careful, like they were both desperately trying to hold themselves together.

“Lise…”

But Lisa was already walking towards the stairs.

For the next couple of hours, the house felt strangely hollow. Carla sat downstairs on the sofa, staring at her laptop screen and pretending to work. Lisa moved aimlessly between the kitchen and the living room, making endless cups of tea which each cooled and were poured away, before retreating upstairs. They exchanged the odd word but otherwise didn't speak - not because there wasn't anything to say, but because they knew that saying it would make it real.

----

Carla found her later, curled up on their bed, face half buried in the pillow. Lisa’s shoulders trembled with the quiet sobs she couldn’t contain anymore.

“I feel so bloody ridiculous,” Lisa whispered as Carla slipped into the room and perched on the edge of the mattress. “I said I wouldn’t get my hopes up. I told you I wouldn’t… but I did. I really thought-” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, wiping at her eyes with the pad of her thumb.

Carla reached out, rubbing her warm hand up and down Lisa's arm. “You're not ridiculous.” Her voice was low, unsteady. “I’ve been sat downstairs crying all morning, Lise.”

Lisa blinked, startled. “Have you?”

Carla nodded, a tear slipping free despite her best efforts. “Course I have. We wanted this so much. But it’s not the end. It’s just… not this time.”

Lisa sat up, leaning into her, and Carla wrapped her arms around her tightly. The tears came freely now - Lisa’s first, then Carla’s, mingling with whispered reassurances neither of them were sure they believed but needed to say anyway.

“This is normal,” Carla murmured into Lisa’s shoulder. “Isn't it? Feeling like this?”

“Yeah,” Lisa said. “It means we care. It means we know we're doing the right thing.”

Carla nodded against her shoulder, clinging to her. “We’ll try again. Just… maybe after Christmas?”

Lisa kissed the side of her head. “Yeah. After Christmas.”

They stayed like that until it was time to fetch Betsy from school, holding each other until the weight of disappointment eased just enough to breathe.

Chapter Text

The living room was lit with soft golden fairy lights, the scent of pine emanating from a tree-shaped candle Carla had lit. The actual Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, a mix of carefully hung baubles and Betsy’s handmade decorations: a lopsided felt star, a paper snowflake smothered in glitter and a candy cane that had been accidentally bent last year but had survived against all odds.

Lisa sat on the floor in her Christmas jumper - a navy one with silver snowflakes embroidered on it - while Carla knelt next to her in her dressing gown. Betsy was still in her festive pyjamas with reindeer antlers perched on her head. Her eyes sparkled as she examined the pile of presents with an exaggerated look of wonder.

“Right then, trouble,” Carla said with a grin, holding up a small, brightly wrapped box. “Are you starting small or going straight for the big one?”

Betsy tilted her head thoughtfully, then grabbed the little box. “Small please! Let's save the big ones until last.”

Lisa chuckled, sipping her coffee. “Good strategy.”

As the morning went on, the room became a riot of wrapping paper and excited chatter. Betsy squealed when she unwrapped the woolly hat with cat ears she'd been hinting at for weeks. She hugged Lisa first, then Carla, thanking them with her usual boundless enthusiasm.

Carla leaned close to Lisa as Betsy tore open another parcel. “Is it me or does she seem so grown up since she turned seven?” she whispered. “Look at her, saying such a genuine thank you. Last year, she’d have just screamed and run around.”

Lisa smiled softly. “She’s still screaming inside. You can see it in her face.”

Betsy proved her point a moment later by gasping at a pile of books and bouncing up and down in excitement. Lisa and Carla exchanged a glance, laughing quietly. The moment was cosy - the three of them sitting together by the tree with warm hugs and warm hearts.

When the presents were all opened, Betsy insisted on trying her new chalk pastels straight away, setting up at the coffee table while Lisa and Carla cleared away the paper and ribbons.

“She’s in her element,” Lisa murmured, watching her daughter frown in concentration, tongue poking out as she used the tip of her finger to blend the colours together. “You know… I think she gets her creative streak from you.”

Carla paused in the middle of folding some discarded paper, glancing at Lisa. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lisa said softly. “Well she didn't get it from Becky or me! She loves to make things. Just like her mum.”

Carla’s lips curved into a smile - one of those small, private ones Lisa had come to love. “Maybe.”

----

By eleven, the three of them were dressed in their Christmas best and heading to Helen and Dan’s house, arms laden with presents and a bottle of fizz. Their breath came out in clouds as they made their way up the path and knocked on the door.

Helen greeted them each with a hug, balancing a now six-month-old Isla on her hip. The baby babbled away, reaching for Carla’s necklace. Lisa couldn’t help but grin.

“She’s getting so big!” Carla said, laughing as she took the baby from Helen. “What have you been feeding her?”

“Everything,” Dan said, appearing from the kitchen. “We can’t keep up.”

Lisa stood back for a moment, watching Carla with Isla. The way Carla’s arms wrapped around the baby and how she swayed instinctively as she stood, gentle and calm; it made something warm bloom in Lisa’s chest.

A bit later, whilst Lisa was holding Isla, Carla leaned in close and whispered, “You know, having a baby on your hip really suits you.”

Lisa glanced at her, caught off guard, and saw that Carla wasn’t teasing - her eyes were soft and wistful. Lisa smiled bashfully. “Well, we did say after Christmas.”

Carla nodded, squeezing her hand briefly before Betsy came bounding over to show them the new bracelet Helen and Dan had given her.

The afternoon was full of warmth and laughter: Betsy played with Oliver in the living room and Dan carved the turkey while Helen fussed over the sprouts. Christmas lunch was Helen's best yet - far too much food, multiple puddings and the sort of conversation that drifts between jokes and meaningful moments without anyone realising.

It was at times like these when Lisa sat back and watched the most important people in her world talking and laughing and loving each other so fully - so honestly - that it felt as though everything they had all endured had truly been worth it.

----

By the time they got back home, the sky had darkened and the fairy lights on the tree cast a soft glow across the room once again. Betsy was still chattering about Isla and Oliver as she hung up her coat and Carla went through to put the kettle on.

Lisa waited until Betsy had curled up on the sofa and was asking if she could open the tin of leftover biscuits, even though she couldn't possibly have been hungry. “Actually… I’ve got one more present for you both.”

Carla raised a brow. “More? Lisa, you’ve spoiled us enough already.”

“This one’s different,” Lisa said, reaching into the drawer of the coffee table and pulling out a large, white envelope. She sat next to Carla on the arm of the sofa, heart thudding, and handed it over.

Carla frowned curiously and carefully opened it. She scanned the papers inside and froze.

She took in a sharp breath. “Lise… are these…?”

Lisa nodded, smiling through the lump in her throat. “The adoption papers. They came through a couple of weeks ago. I thought… I thought it would be more special to save them and give them to you today.”

Betsy's eyes lit up. “Wait. So that means…”

Lisa turned to her daughter, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It means Carla is finally your mum. Not just in our hearts, but on paper too. It’s official.”

Carla pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes shining. “Lisa… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you're happy,” Betsy chirped, climbing into Carla’s lap.

Carla let out a soft laugh that broke into a sob. She hugged Betsy close, kissing her hair over and over again, before looking back at Lisa. “Of course I'm happy. I don't think I've ever been happier!”

Lisa swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “Merry Christmas, Carla.”

Carla shook her head, still holding Betsy tightly. “This is… this is the best Christmas present I’ve ever had. Thank you. Both of you. For being my family.”

Lisa leaned over, pressing a kiss to Carla’s lips and then one to Betsy’s cheek as well. “Forever,” she said.

Chapter Text

There was a frost on the inside of the windows that February morning but Lisa was already wide awake before the sun had even begun to lighten the sky, the nerves in her stomach twisting more tightly with each passing minute.

She’d taken the test out of the drawer half an hour earlier after lying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to take the waiting any longer. Carla had woken up to the sound of the ensuite door creaking open, and now here they were - Lisa pacing in her pyjamas with her hair tied back in a rushed bun and Carla sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, phone in hand with a timer quietly ticking down.

"You know," Carla said, her voice gentle, "you're going to wear a hole in that floor."

Lisa turned mid-pace and tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. "I can’t just sit, Carla. It’s like I’m full of electricity. What if it’s another negative? I don’t think I’ve got it in me to pretend I'm okay again."

Carla opened her arms. "Then come here. Sit with me. At least let me save the tiles from wearing through."

Lisa hesitated for a few seconds, then crossed the floor and settled onto Carla’s lap, burying her face in the crook of her wife’s neck. Carla wrapped her arms around her tightly, as though desperate to hold her wife together. She was determined to be warm, solid and unshakable in all the ways Lisa had come to love so deeply.

“You’ve done everything right,” Carla murmured into her hair. “And whatever happens, I’m here with you.”

Lisa exhaled slowly, letting the tension begin to drain, though her hands still gripped the edge of Carla’s dressing gown. They sat like that, wrapped around each other, until the soft ping of Carla’s phone made Lisa’s entire body stiffen again.

“That’s it,” Carla said softly. “Five minutes.”

Lisa didn’t move at first.

“D’you want me to look?” Carla offered.

But Lisa was already shaking her head. “No. I’ll do it this time.”

She got up slowly and crossed the room, her bare feet sticking slightly on the cool tiles. The test lay on the edge of the sink, facing down so they wouldn't be tempted to look too soon. Lisa picked it up, turned it over, and stared.

Silence.

Carla stood slowly. “Lise?” she said gently. “Is it…”

Lisa didn’t answer.

Carla’s heart sank. She stepped forward, already putting together the right words in her head: how to cushion the fall, how to say next time, how to hold Lisa through the disappointment as though it wasn't rippling through her own body too.

But then Lisa looked up, her expression unreadable - eyes wide and mouth parted in disbelief.

“It’s not negative,” she said finally.

Carla froze. “What?”

Lisa gave a tiny breath of a laugh. “It’s not negative.”

Carla blinked, unsure if she’d heard right. “It’s… wait. Are you saying-?”

“I’m pregnant.” Lisa’s voice cracked as she held out the stick. “Carla… it’s positive. I’m pregnant.”

For a split second, neither of them moved. Then Carla surged forward and wrapped Lisa in her arms, both of them laughing and crying all at once.

“You’re pregnant,” Carla whispered, pulling back to brush her fingers against Lisa’s cheek. “You did it.”

“We did it,” Lisa said, holding her face in both hands. “Oh my God, Carla. We’re having a baby!”

Carla kissed her - long and deep, with her hands in Lisa’s hair, like she wanted to burn the moment into her memory forever. Then they were forehead to forehead, their eyes shining and the test still clutched loosely in Carla’s hand between them.

“I love you,” Lisa whispered.

“I love you more,” Carla said back, grinning through her tears.

----

It had been just over a week since the test turned positive and they remained wrapped in their precious secret. Lisa still kept the test in the drawer of her bedside table, though she didn’t feel the need to keep checking it anymore.

They still hadn't told a soul - not even Betsy. Even now she was seven, she was still a whirlwind bundle of energy and questions and they had agreed not to open that door until things felt more certain.

So instead, they lived inside the quiet joy of it - stealing glances, secret smiles, holding each other a bit tighter when no one was looking. Lisa had always tried to carry the weight of reality first, but something about seeing the word pregnant in bold on that stick had cracked her wide open: she let herself believe now.

On Saturday, they wrapped up in scarves and thick coats and took Betsy to the park on the edge of town. The air was chilly and the path through the woods was muddy in places, which only thrilled Betsy more as she splashed through puddles and collected sticks to make into magic wands.

Carla carried a Thermos of tea in one gloved hand and held Lisa’s in the other. The bump didn’t exist yet but Lisa walked with a subtle new protectiveness, like her body was holding something sacred.

“Do you think she suspects anything?” Carla asked as they strolled behind their daughter.

Lisa smirked. “She asked me a few weeks ago if we could get a cat so she could have a sister so… probably not.”

They shared a quiet laugh.

When they got home, rosy cheeked and windbitten, Carla put the kettle on and Lisa laid out the mugs for hot chocolate. Marshmallows, cream and a sneaky drizzle of caramel: a true weekend indulgence. The oven was already warm with jacket potatoes inside, skin crisping perfectly.

The three of them sank into the sofa under some blankets, Betsy still in her tights and long jumper, cheeks flushed as she giggled at a cartoon. Carla and Lisa sat shoulder to shoulder with their hands brushing under the throw as they shared small, reverent looks that said This is everything.

That night, after stories and toothbrushing and a final chase down the landing, Lisa tucked Betsy into bed. She smoothed her daughter’s hair back from her forehead and kissed her temple.

“Love you, Mummy,” Betsy said sleepily, her thumb hovering near her mouth.

Lisa smiled. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“No, I mean I love you the whole sky.”

Lisa froze.

Her throat tightened instantly. “Wow. That’s a lot of love,” she managed.

Betsy nodded, eyes already closing. “And the stars. I love you all the stars too.”

Lisa held it together. She gave her another kiss, turned off the lamp and closed the door quietly behind her. She didn’t speak again until she was downstairs, stepping into the soft light of the living room, where Carla sat cross-legged on the sofa, leafing through a magazine.

“She asleep?” Carla asked.

Lisa nodded. Her voice came out small. “Betsy said she loves me ‘the whole sky’.”

Her eyes filled. She sat down heavily beside Carla, blinking fast and wiping at her cheeks. “Bloody hormones,” she muttered, half laughing.

Carla grinned and slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. “Oh love, it’s happening, isn’t it? First official pregnancy symptom: spontaneous weeping.”

“I didn’t even cry when she made me watch Bambi,” Lisa protested weakly, already leaning into Carla.

They laughed together, quiet and warm, and settled deeper under the blanket. Carla kissed Lisa’s hair and whispered, “I love you the whole sky too, by the way.”

Lisa’s smile spread slowly, resting her head on Carla’s chest. “And the stars?”

Carla nodded. “And the stars.”

Chapter Text

Daffodils trembled in the March breeze in the pots on the front steps of the house. Inside, Lisa Swain was discovering what six weeks pregnant really felt like - and it wasn't the glowing skin or serene smiles she'd imagined. It was nausea. Persistent, bone-deep nausea that came in waves without warning. Sometimes in the car. Sometimes mid-sentence. Often, embarrassingly, during briefings at the station.

So much so, in fact, that she'd perfected a sort of polite dash to the nearest toilet. None of her team had said anything but Lisa could feel the sideways glances. She knew what coppers were like: someone had definitely started a bet.

So when she dragged herself through the front door on Thursday afternoon, pale and clutching the bannister like a lifeline as she toed off her boots, Carla was already there with her coat still on, fresh from the school run.

Lisa tried to give her a tired smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Didn’t even make it to my lunch break before it started. Had to throw away that tuna sandwich because of the smell alone.”

“That’s because tuna is disgusting,” Carla replied gently, kissing her on the temple. “You’re done. No more pretending you’re fine when you’re clearly ready to keel over. You’re calling in sick tomorrow.”

Lisa opened her mouth to argue.

“Nope,” Carla said, holding up a hand. “No speeches about duty or the chain of command. You’re not saving Manchester from any baddies tomorrow. You’re lying in bed and letting me take care of you.”

Lisa gave in with a small nod. Her stomach turned at the smell of something that was cooking two doors down. “Fine. But only because I don't have the energy to argue with you.”

Carla smirked and led her upstairs.

----

The next morning, Lisa was stretched out on the sofa in her dressing gown with a warm hot water bottle pressed against her stomach. Betsy, halfway through her toast, was eyeing her with concern from the table.

“Mummy looks green,” Betsy whispered dramatically to Carla. “Has she got germs?”

Before Carla could answer, Lisa bolted up and rushed to the downstairs bathroom. The sound of retching followed. Betsy froze as she was about to take another bite.

Carla crouched beside her. “She’ll be okay, I promise. She’s just a bit poorly, that’s all.”

“Like, hospital poorly?”

“No, no,” Carla said quickly, brushing a hand over her curls. “Just... a bit of a sicky tummy. Nothing serious. She just needs rest and lots of boring food. Like dry toast and crackers.”

Betsy squinted at her. “Why does she keep being sick if it’s not serious?”

Carla pulled her in for a hug. “Because sometimes when grown ups catch a bug, it hangs around longer than it should. But she’ll be okay, you don't need to worry. I’m going to stay at home and take care of her all day.”

Betsy still looked a bit wary, but she nodded and waited for Lisa to come back so she could climb up and kiss her cheek before Carla zipped her into her coat and ushered her out for school.

----

Once Carla returned, the kettle went on and the day became one long, gentle blur of cream crackers, plain pasta and dry cereal. Lisa managed small sips of ginger tea in between trips to the bathroom. Carla held her hair back, rubbed her back and murmured encouragement with quiet tenderness, even though the sight made her heart ache.

“Have I told you today that you’re amazing?” she asked softly, wiping Lisa’s face with a cool flannel after another bout of sickness.

Lisa gave a weak smile. “Twice. And also that I looked like something from The Walking Dead.”

Carla tucked a blanket up around her shoulders. “Sexy, undead, glowing-with-motherhood zombie.”

Lisa rolled her eyes but didn’t protest when Carla kissed her forehead.

After a long nap, they lay together in bed with the curtains drawn. Carla ran her fingertips slowly up and down Lisa’s arm, watching her with quiet concern.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You don’t regret... this?”

Lisa blinked her eyes open. “No.”

“You can be honest.”

“I am, ” Lisa said firmly. “It’s crap, yeah. But it’s... good crap, if you know what I mean?”

Carla gave her a look.

Lisa smiled faintly. “It means something’s happening in there. Our baby is doing what it’s supposed to. And every time I feel like I'm going to throw up again, I remind myself this is a good sign. It’s horrible, but it’ll be worth it.”

Carla leaned in and kissed her. “I think I fell even more in love with you this week. Is that possible?”

Lisa snorted. “You say that now. Wait until I’m eight months pregnant and shouting at you for breathing too loudly.”

Carla laughed and snuggled in closer. “Can’t wait.”

Chapter Text

The clatter of the factory floor was a constant hum in the background. Carla had just stepped back into her office, already typing an email to a fabric supplier, when there was a soft knock on the glass door.

Lisa stood there holding a brown paper bag and a Tupperware box, the collar of her leather jacket turned up against the wind and a sheepish little grin on her face.

“You forgot your lunch,” she said, stepping inside.

Carla’s face broke into a smile immediately. “You’re the best wife I’ve ever had.”

Lisa rolled her eyes and set the food down on Carla’s desk. “I'm the only wife you've ever had, but I'll let that go. You need to stop existing entirely on crisps and coffee, you know?”

Carla kissed her cheek. “I exist on sarcasm and sheer bloody mindedness. The crisps are just extras.”

Lisa perched on the corner of the desk while Carla opened the lunch box - pasta salad and a packet of salt and vinegar. “Betsy’s talking non-stop about my birthday,” Lisa said, her hand instinctively smoothing over her stomach. “Forty, eh? How did that happen?”

Carla chuckled. “She told me last night she wants a unicorn to come to your party.”

“A real one or a person in a suit?”

“Real,” Carla said dryly. “Apparently anyone who's anyone has a unicorn at their party nowadays.”

Lisa laughed. “Maybe I’ll ask Roy to dress up in a horned onesie.”

Carla nearly choked on her coffee.

They chatted for a while - about the cake Betsy wanted to make for Lisa (pink, sparkly with chocolate inside and strawberry outside), and her insistence that she be allowed to help plan every detail (“I’ll be in charge of balloons and decorating,” she’d declared the night before).

Eventually, Lisa stood up, brushing down her jacket. “Right, I’d better get back. We’ve got a new officer who thinks paperwork is optional.”

Carla stood too, walking her to the door. She leaned in for a kiss, soft and warm, then dropped to her knees and pressed one more to Lisa’s stomach.

“Bye, baby. Be nice to your mummy today, please.”

Lisa grinned, her heart tightening with affection until the sound of the outer door opening startled them.

Michelle.

She stepped into the office without knocking, halfway through a sentence. “Carla, have you got that updated-”

She stopped dead.

Carla straightened guiltily. Lisa looked mildly horrified.

“Michelle.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow, putting the fabric swatches down on the desk. “Either you’ve developed a very weird new goodbye ritual or…”

Lisa flushed. Carla rubbed a hand over her face.

“We were going to wait until after the twelve-week scan,” she said. “We haven’t even told Betsy yet.”

Michelle’s jaw dropped. “Wait - you're pregnant?”

Lisa nodded shyly.

“Carla!”

Carla held up her hands. “It’s still early. We were being careful. But yes, she is.”

Michelle’s eyes were wide and watery with happiness. “You’re having a baby? Together. You made a baby?”

Carla smiled, a little misty eyed herself now. “We did - and we’re really happy. But we need you to keep it a secret. Just for a few weeks. Even from Ryan.”

Michelle nodded rapidly. “Mum’s the word. Are you kidding? I feel honoured I get to know first.”

Carla smiled. “We’ll tell Betsy after the twelve week scan. She's going to start demanding a sister on the spot.”

Michelle laughed again. “You two. You’re building something really special, d’you know that?”

Carla looked at Lisa, her hand finding hers.

“Yeah,” Carla said softly. “We do.”

And so, for the first time, they let someone else in on their secret. The circle widened just a little bit and everything still felt just as sacred.

----

The house was quiet that evening.

The washing up had been done, the cartoon theme tunes had faded and Betsy was finally asleep with her dinosaur bedding pulled right up under her chin. 

Lisa and Carla had done the bedtime routine on autopilot - stories, hugs, drinks of water, one last toilet trip, a discussion about why teddy bears didn't need passports - and now they were finally in their own bed, wrapped up in the gentle hush of late evening.

Lisa lay on her side, hair pulled back messily with one hand resting instinctively over her stomach. Her eyes were half closed, and her voice was low and rough with sleep when she yawned, “Tiring work, growing a baby.”

Carla smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from Lisa’s cheek. “I bet,” she said. “Did Becky feel like this? You know… with Betsy.”

Lisa thought carefully. “Yeah, she did actually. I used to tease her for having nana naps in the middle of the day. I don't remember her being this emotional though; I cried yesterday when the petrol station didn't have the sour sweets I wanted.”

Carla shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. “You’re allowed. You’re doing a lot. So…”

Lisa cracked one eye open as Carla reached across to the drawer in her bedside table.

“I got something,” Carla said softly. “It’s not a big thing. Just… Well, here.”

She pulled out a small grey rabbit, no bigger than her hand. Its fur was impossibly soft, the kind that made you want to rub your thumb over it and never stop. It had long floppy ears and a gentle, stitched smile. Carla held it out.

Lisa blinked at it. Her tired eyes softened.

“Carla…”

“I know it’s still early,” Carla said quickly, “but I saw it when I popped into the card shop. It reminded me of the one Betsy has and I just… I couldn’t leave it there.”

Lisa took the rabbit in her hand and ran her fingers over its tiny ears. “We haven’t even had the scan yet.”

“I know,” Carla whispered. “But I wanted them to have something. Something that’s theirs. Something that belongs to them already.”

Lisa was silent for a moment. Then she gave a watery laugh, tears threatening to spill over. “You’re such a sap.”

Carla smiled, brushing her thumb gently against Lisa’s cheek to wipe one away. “You turned me into one. I didn’t even know what real happiness was until I met you. Not really. I thought I did… but I was just getting by. You - you and Betsy and now… the baby. This is it for me, and if that makes me a sap then… so be it.”

Lisa didn’t say anything at first. She just reached for Carla and pulled her close, the little bunny tucked safely between them. They kissed softly and slowly, reminding each other of everything they’d been through to get here.

When they broke apart, Lisa tucked her head into Carla’s neck.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Carla smiled against her hair. “I love you too.”

For the rest of the night, they lay there, in the quiet warmth of their bed. Just the two of them and a bunny and a baby, still no bigger than a raspberry, growing steadily and safely, with all the love in the world waiting for it on the outside.

Chapter Text

The school gates bustled with morning chatter - there were coats half on, lunchboxes swinging and children darting about like fish in a stream. Lisa and Carla stood together just outside, holding hands, watching as Betsy ran towards her classroom door.

She only stopped to turn back and shout, “Don’t forget to pick me up! It’s library day today!”

“We won’t forget,” Carla called back, grinning. “Have fun, trouble.”

Betsy waved wildly with both hands. 

When she disappeared inside, Lisa let out a long, slow breath.

“You okay?” Carla asked, gently.

Lisa nodded. “Yeah. I just… feel like I’ve been holding it in all morning.”

Carla snaked her hand around to Lisa’s and held it tightly. “Well, we’re nearly there.”

The scan. Twelve weeks: the milestone they'd been moving towards in silent hope.

----

At the hospital, Lisa sat rigidly in her chair, eyes fixed on the door opposite. Carla rubbed small, steady circles on her back.

“It’s going to be alright,” Carla whispered. “You’re okay. The baby’s okay.”

Lisa gave a small, grateful smile, but her eyes didn’t waver.

When Lisa's name was called, they up stood together and walked in.

The room was warm and dim, and the technician was kind - a woman with purple rimmed glasses and a voice like soft felt. Lisa lay back on the bed and pulled up her shirt. Carla stood next to her and took her hand, both of them watching the screen in anticipation, their hearts thudding.

There were a few moments of silence as the wand was moved slowly across Lisa's skin.

And then - there.

A flicker. A shape. Movement.

“And... there’s your baby,” the technician said, smiling.

Carla gasped: Lisa’s grip on her tightened.

“And there’s the heart beating - can you see it there? Nice and strong.”

She flicked a switch and the room filled with the rapid, steady rhythm of life. That tiny, thunderous sound filled every quiet space inside both of them.

Lisa blinked fast. Carla had a hand pressed to her mouth.

They watched the little form squirm and stretch. Ten fingers, ten toes. A full profile. A real, moving life.

“Everything’s looking great,” the technician said warmly, printing out two pictures and handing them to Carla, who stared down at them like she'd never seen anything as precious in her life.

As they walked back out into the waiting room, Lisa's hand found Carla's once again. She took one look at the photos in her hand and then broke.

Not in a loud, collapsing way, but in a quiet release that went soul-deep. Her shoulders trembled and the tears came, unstoppable.

Carla immediately turned to her, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close so that Lisa could bury her face in Carla’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” Carla murmured. “I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that, the other waiting couples disappearing into background noise. Carla didn’t try to stop the tears; she didn’t hush them away. She just held Lisa until the sobs ran out and her breathing began to steady.

Then she led her gently outside, out into the cool May air, where they sat together on a bench in the sunshine, just far enough from the door that they could be alone in the middle of it all.

When Lisa finally spoke, her voice was raw but steady. “I kept thinking… we’d get in there and they’d tell us there was nothing. No heartbeat. No baby.”

Carla turned to her, waiting.

“It felt like… this life - you, Betsy, the baby - it was too good. My brain kept trying to protect me by preparing me for the worst. After Becky…” she trailed off, unable to put words to the feelings in a way that Carla would be able to follow.

Carla reached for Lisa’s hand. “But it’s real, love. The heartbeat. The baby. Everything.”

Lisa looked at the scan photo in her lap and let out a small laugh through her tears. “I saw it. Our baby. Wriggling around like it’s already planning trouble.”

Carla grinned. “With a big sister like Betsy? Trouble’s definitely on the cards.”

Lisa leaned into her, resting her head on Carla’s shoulder.

"I don't want to forget this, Carla. I don't want to forget a single second of this feeling."

Suddenly, it all made sense. Carla nodded as the realisation sank in.

"You wont. I wont let you. This isn't like before, Lise. Everything we have now... everything we are is what you deserve. Your brain doesn't need to protect you anymore - not from this.'

She lay her hand softly over where the baby was nestled safely, invisible to the outside world but already so loved. The warmth of it spread slowly through Lisa until it reached her face in a watery smile.

For a long time, they just sat there. Two women, wrapped around the miracle they’d made, with the sun warming their backs and the photos pressed between their palms like proof.

Proof of life.

Proof of love.

Proof of everything that mattered.

----

The kitchen smelled like home: golden batter crisping in the oven, caramelised onions simmering low in gravy and asparagus steaming on the hob. Betsy was already giggling at the table, proudly sipping from her cartoon character cup like she was fine dining.

“Toad in the hole,” Lisa declared as she put the tray down on the table with a flourish, “for my two favourite people.”

“You mean three,” Carla corrected with a small, secret smile, resting a hand on Lisa’s lower back as she passed behind her.

Lisa returned the smile. Not a secret for much longer, she thought.

They all sat down and for a moment it was just the familiar clatter of cutlery and Betsy trying to see how much gravy she could soak into her Yorkshire pudding without it falling apart.

She was the first to speak, with her mouth still full of sausage. “Can we have this for tea on my birthday?”

“It's not your birthday for quite a while yet, darling,” Lisa said, laughing.

“I know. I’m planning ahead,” Betsy said matter-of-factly. “I think I also want a dinosaur cake.”

“I thought you wanted a space cake?” Carla asked.

Betsy nodded. “I want both. A space dinosaur.”

The two women exchanged a look across the table. There was no perfect moment. But this one - this was real. Warm. Full. It was right.

Lisa cleared her throat. “Bets… we’ve got something we want to tell you.”

The little girl immediately dropped her fork. “Are we moving house?”

“No lovey,” Carla said, smiling. “Well, not at the moment, anyway. This is our home.”

Betsy gasped. “Are we getting a dog?!”

“No dog,” Lisa said. “But…”

She looked at Carla, who nodded softly and picked up the thread.

“...Mummy's going to have a baby. You're going to be a big sister.”

Betsy stared at them for a moment - eyes sparkling and mouth open wide - and then she shrieked.

“A BABY?! IN YOUR TUMMY?!”

Lisa laughed, her cheeks pink. “Yep. In my tummy.”

Betsy clapped both hands over her mouth. “You mean like actually?”

“Like actually actually,” Carla said. “We saw the baby on a screen today. Its tiny little arms and legs were wriggling all over the place.”

She pushed the ultrasound photo across the table with a smile. 

Betsy stood up on her chair. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know yet,” Lisa said, as Carla gently guided Betsy back to sitting. “It’s too early to tell.”

Betsy leaned across the table, squinting seriously at Lisa. “How did it get in there?”

Lisa coughed. “Oh! Well…”

Carla jumped in smoothly. “With the help of some very clever doctors.”

“You went to the doctor to ask for a baby?”

“We did,” Lisa said. “And after lots of check-ups and waiting and hoping, it worked.”

Betsy blinked rapidly and, before anyone even knew it was happening, tears began to stream down her face. She swiped at them frustratedly as she whispered, “That’s magical.”

“In a way, yeah,” Carla said, her brow furrowing. “Lovey… are you alright?”

Betsy’s eyes were enormous, as though she thought that by making them as wide as possible, she could stop them from leaking. Then, in a small voice, she said, “I'm just really happy. I always wanted a baby brother or sister. I don't know why I'm crying because I feel like I want to be smiling.” She was properly crying now, confused by the overwhelming emotion she felt and turning pink with embarrassment. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Lisa soothed as she pushed back her chair and rushed over to gather her daughter into her arms. “It's okay to cry - really. It's a big change and you're bound to have some big feelings about it.”

Carla pulled her chair closer to Betsy’s and rubbed her back until, under her mothers’ careful touches, the little girl’s breathing began to even out. 

“When’s the baby coming?” she asked.

Lisa smiled. “Around Christmas time. So you’ve got plenty of time to help us think of names.”

That did it. Betsy bolted from her chair like a coiled spring and ran upstairs, yelling “WE NEED PAPER!” and “WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT LILAH? OR FINN?”

Carla and Lisa burst into laughter, leaning towards each other from where they stood either side of Betsy’s now empty chair.

“I think she's happy,” Lisa said, beaming.

“She is,” Carla murmured. “That went well, didn’t it?”

Lisa nodded, tears prickling in her eyes again - honestly, she cried at anything these days. “It feels good… having her know. Like the secret’s even more special now, somehow.”

“She’s going to be the best big sister in the world.”

“She already is,” Lisa said softly.

As they stood, Carla wrapped her arms around Lisa from behind and Lisa tilted her head to rest it against Carla’s chest.

Upstairs, there were shouts of “ALEXA, WHAT NAME MEANS MOON?”

Lisa laughed, warm and full. “God help this baby.”

Carla pressed a kiss to her temple. “It’s already the luckiest kid in the world.”

Chapter Text

June came in soft and golden, with early morning light spilling across the cobbles and long evenings that felt like they’d never end. Lisa’s bump was still barely visible, just the faintest swell beneath her clothes, but to the three of them it already felt like the baby was here somehow - folded into their days like an extra heartbeat in the house.

It wasn’t dramatic: it didn’t need to be. The beauty of it all came in the quiet, precious moments - little things that stitched the days together with love and trust and contentment.

----

One warm Saturday morning, Lisa was lying on the sofa in her pyjamas, her feet tucked under a blanket and beads of condensation sliding down the glass of iced water on the coffee table beside her. Betsy clambered up next to her and settled herself like she belonged there - which, of course, she did.

“Mummy?” she asked softly, resting her chin on Lisa’s arm.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Betsy placed her two little hands very carefully on Lisa’s tummy, like she was afraid she might startle the baby. “Is the baby sleeping in there?”

Lisa smiled. “I think so. It does a lot of sleeping at this stage because it's growing so much.”

Betsy leaned in, whispering like she might wake it. “But what does it dream about if it's never seen anything?”

“That’s a really good question.” Lisa looked at her, awestruck by how much thoughtfulness her daughter had grown to possess. “Maybe it dreams about voices and heartbeat sounds. Maybe about what it feels like to be warm and safe.”

Betsy was quiet for a moment. Then she whispered against Lisa’s belly, “Hi baby, it’s me, Betsy. I’m your big sister. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Lisa swallowed down the lump in her throat and just held her close, her hand smoothing through Betsy’s wild morning curls.

----

A few days later, Lisa had gone for a lie down after a particularly queasy morning. Carla was wiping down the kitchen worktop when Betsy padded in, dragging one of her cuddly toys - a squashed bear with only one eye - by its leg.

“Mum?” Betsy said, voice hushed.

“Yes, lovey?”

Betsy climbed onto a stool. “How can I help?”

“Help with what, darling?”

“With Mummy,” Betsy said, twisting the bear’s ear. “She’s making the baby and that’s really hard work. So I want to help make her okay.”

Carla came around the counter and crouched in front of her. “Well, that’s one of the kindest things I’ve ever heard.”

Betsy shrugged, suddenly shy. “She always lets me have the biggest strawberry if there’s only two left.”

Carla smiled. “Well, in that case, I think the best way to help is by giving her lots of cuddles, letting her rest when she needs to and maybe helping me remember which foods make her feel sick so we don’t cook those by accident.”

Betsy nodded seriously, suddenly feeling quite grown up. “She doesn’t like the smell of eggs anymore.”

“Very true,” Carla whispered, giving her a high five. “Operation Look After Mummy is now underway.”

----

One Tuesday evening, all three of them were curled up on the sofa under a light blanket with pasta bowls balanced in their laps. Lisa had conceded to the Betsy's request and made her favourite: spaghetti with Marmite stirred through the butter and cheese - a weird combination that made Carla pull faces but which Lisa secretly quite liked.

“Do you think the baby will like eating this?” Betsy asked, slurping a long strand which sprayed Marmite butter across her lips.

“Only if they’ve got good taste,” Lisa replied seriously.

“Or they're very weird,” Carla muttered, which earned her a grin from Lisa and an outraged gasp from Betsy.

“Maybe they’ll like fish fingers better,” Lisa said.

“Or rice pudding,” Carla added, screwing up her nose at the thought of the gelatinous mush she was served at school.

“No,” Betsy said thoughtfully. “I think they’ll like what we like. Because they’re ours.”

The room went quiet for a second, as though it were swelling with the size of the love they had for this little life already. Lisa reached out and brushed Betsy’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Lisa said softly. “They are.”

----

That night, long after Betsy was tucked in and dreaming, Lisa and Carla lay in bed. Lisa’s back was curled into Carla’s chest and Carla’s hand rested lightly on the subtle curve of her stomach.

“She’s so ready,” Lisa whispered. “Betsy. I wasn't sure how she'd be when we told her… but she's already acting like a big sister.”

Carla smiled into Lisa’s shoulder. “Because she is a big sister. Through and through. I mean, she's had enough practice with Ollie and Isla. ”

“Do you ever wonder if it’s all too perfect?” Lisa asked, her voice trembling just slightly. “Like it’s all going to get taken away.”

Carla kissed the back of her neck, as gentle as breath. “No. Because we’ve fought too hard to get here. It’s ours.”

Lisa didn’t answer straight away. But she nodded and Carla felt it. Then Lisa lay her hand over Carla’s and pressed it firmly against her stomach.

“Say goodnight to your baby,” she murmured.

Carla grinned. “Goodnight, little one. We love you already.”

Chapter Text

The last school bell of the term rang out across the playground like a starter pistol. Children of all ages burst out of the doors like champagne corks, full of energy and the fizzy promise of six whole weeks of summer. Carla and Lisa stood waiting with their sunglasses on, coffees in hand, already steeling themselves for the chaos to come.

“Freedom!” Betsy shouted, running straight for Lisa and throwing her arms around her growing bump before moving up into a proper hug. “No more spelling tests! Can we go to the park today? Please? For the start of the holidays?”

Carla raised her eyebrows. “You’ve barely taken your book bag off, kiddo.”

Lisa ruffled Betsy’s hair. “Go on, then. Let’s start as we mean to go on, eh?”

----

That evening, after showers and hair-brushing and a rather loud kitchen disco to the Encanto soundtrack, Lisa and Carla finally got Betsy to bed and collapsed on the sofa. Lisa sighed and stretched, her hand resting subconsciously on the gentle curve of her stomach.

Carla glanced at her and smirked. “So. Are we going to have this argument again?”

Lisa feigned innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Carla nudged her knee. “The scan’s in three days, missus.”

“You mean the scan where we could find out whether we're having a boy or a girl?”

“Could,” Carla echoed. “But we don’t have to.”

Lisa turned her head. “I genuinely can’t believe you don't want to find out.”

Carla grinned. “What, and ruin the surprise? The mystery? The drama?”

“You, my favourite control freak Carla Swain?” Lisa asked, incredulous.

“Nope. I'm staying strong. Even when I'm staring at tiny baby grows in shop windows thinking, ‘God, that floral onesie would look so cute if we had a girl.’”

Lisa laughed. “You’re not helping your case here.”

Carla shrugged. “I'll still get to buy him or her all the cute little outfits when they're born.”

“Exactly!” Lisa pointed, “but why not get a headstart?”

“Because what if we’re sitting there, and they ask, and we just… don’t look?” Carla gave her best mischievous grin. “Imagine. We’d have the most dramatic and exciting delivery room moment. It's the last great surprise left in life isn't it, really?”

“You do know we’re not starring in a film, don't you?”

Carla looked around their modest, chaotic, love-filled living room before grinning. “I don't know - lately our life feels a bit like a cheesy romcom.”

From upstairs, a pair of small feet pattered back in. Betsy appeared, hair sticking up and hugging her bedtime bunny.

“I forgot to ask something!”

Carla smiled. “What is it, trouble?”

“Can we find out if the baby’s a boy or girl soon?”

Lisa and Carla exchanged looks. “We’re thinking about it,” Lisa said, keeping her voice gentle.

“I hope it’s a girl,” she said dreamily.

The two women laughed, and Lisa leaned over to kiss her forehead. “We’ll let you know what we decide soon, okay? And you do know there's just as much chance of you having a little brother don't you?”

Betsy nodded, then scampered back to bed.

----

The back and forth continued - Lisa playfully needled Carla in the kitchen whilst she chopped carrots and Carla teased Lisa about her “impatient” tendencies - but it was always light, always underpinned with warmth.

On the night before the scan, Lisa emerged from the ensuite wrapped in her sage green dressing gown, skin still glowing after moisturising. She paused in front of the mirror, pulling aside the fabric and studying the swell of her stomach, fingers tracing it gently. Carla, who was already tucked into bed, looked up from her book.

Lisa caught her watching. “You’re staring.”

“I am,” Carla admitted, voice hushed. “You’re so beautiful, Lise. Honestly.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Hormonal? Sweaty? Bloated?”

Carla held out a hand. “Come here.”

Lisa padded across the room and slid into the bed beside her. Carla took one look at the soft curves of her body, glowing and real in the lamplight, and smiled softly.

“You win.”

Lisa blinked. “What?”

Carla leaned over and kissed her shoulder. “If you want to find out tomorrow, we’ll find out.”

Lisa turned to face her. “Really? But you were so set on the surprise.”

Carla gave a small shrug. “You're the one growing the baby. You get the final say.”

Lisa’s eyes shimmered. “What changed your mind?”

Carla reached out, cupped Lisa’s cheek. “You did. Watching you... every day, taking care of yourself and the baby. You’ve never looked more like home to me. And when you look like that, I’ll never be able to say no to you.”

Lisa laughed, blinking back tears. “You sappy thing.”

Carla grinned. “Now come here and let me kiss that gorgeous bump goodnight.”

Lisa stretched out, letting Carla’s hand rest on her belly as she leaned down, pressing a kiss just above her navel.

“Night, baby,” Carla murmured. “Tomorrow, we get to find out a little bit more about you.”

----

The front door opened and Carla and Lisa stepped inside, grinning like teenagers sneaking home after a date. Michelle popped her head out from the living room, Betsy chatting away noisily behind her.

“Well?!” she whispered, eyes wide, barely containing her excitement. “Did you find out?”

Carla laughed. “We did.”

Michelle clapped her hands together. “Come on, tell me!”

“Not yet,” Lisa said, hanging up her coat. “We want to tell Betsy first.”

“We’ve got a plan,” Carla added with a wink. “But I promise I’ll text you as soon as she knows.”

Michelle groaned but grinned, grabbing her bag. “You two are evil. But fine. I’ll go home and try to survive the suspense.”

As she left, Betsy ran to the door.

“‘Chelle, did you like playing with the sock puppets with me?” Betsy asked, clinging to her side.

“Course I did. I’m a sock puppet expert now,” Michelle said proudly, kissing her on the head before heading out. “Be good for your mummies, you.”

Lisa shut the door behind her, leaning against it with a slow breath. Carla smiled.

“Ready?”

Lisa gave a small nod. “Ready.”

----

Dinner that night was a vision in pink.

Lisa and Carla had gone all in. The table was set with pink napkins. Pink lemonade fizzed in tall glasses. Watermelon slices glistened beside bowls of beetroot fusilli with salmon flakes. Betsy tucked in with enthusiasm, completely oblivious.

“Mmm,” Betsy said, slurping a forkful of pasta. “This tastes like Barbie food.”

Carla grinned behind her glass. “Does it?”

“Wait… is it someone's birthday?”

“Nope,” Lisa said innocently. “Just a treat. It’s the start of the summer holidays, after all.”

They continued eating, giggling and chatting about what they’d do the next day - the paddling pool, a walk to the duck pond, maybe some baking if the weather turned.

It wasn’t until the last of the watermelon had been eaten that Betsy suddenly froze.

“WAIT!”

Both women turned to look at her.

“You went to the hospital today! That's why Auntie ‘Chelle was here. Did you find out if it’s a baby brother or baby sister?!”

Carla and Lisa exchanged a smile.

“We did,” Lisa said slowly.

“What is it?” She leaned in, eyes wide.

“Well…” Carla nodded towards the plates. “We might’ve given you a clue.”

Betsy looked at the table, then at each of her mums in turn. There was a puzzled silence.

“All the food…” Lisa encouraged gently.

“It’s pink!” Betsy gasped. “Everything’s pink!” Her mouth dropped open. “Does that mean it’s a baby girl?!”

Carla’s eyes sparkled. “It does.”

There was a shriek. Betsy jumped up and danced in a circle before flinging herself onto Lisa’s lap and hugging her bump.

“I knew it! I knew you’d be a girl!”

Next, Betsy hugged Carla tightly. “I'm going to be the best big sister in the whole world.”

“You're right about that,” Carla said, kissing her head.

Lisa wiped at her eyes with a napkin. “Since we’re clearly destined to be a house full of girls,” she said, smiling through happy tears, “I think we need a special pudding.”

“Ooooh, what is it?” Betsy bounced up and down on her toes.

Carla got up and opened the freezer with a flourish. “Pink strawberry ice cream, of course!”

Betsy squealed and ran to get bowls. As Carla served up the ice cream, her eyes met Lisa's across the kitchen - full of joy, laughter, love, and pride.

Lisa slipped an arm around Carla’s waist.

“Well,” she whispered, “I think that went down well.”

Chapter Text

The cottage sat tucked into the hillside, just a five minute walk from the sea; its white stone walls glowed in the evening sun. Lisa stood on the little back terrace with her hands resting on the growing curve under her t-shirt, listening to the seagulls and the distant hush of the tide.

A soft breeze carried the scent of sea salt and wildflowers. She took a long, deep breath and let her shoulders drop; she hadn’t realised just how much tension she’d been carrying - in her back, in her jaw, in her shoulders - until they’d finally arrived here.

Behind her, laughter burst from the living room. Betsy and Carla were arguing joyfully over how many scoops of ice cream Betsy should be allowed to eat when it was so close to bedtime. Lisa knew who would win.

She smiled; her whole body sighed with happiness.

Carla appeared behind her a few minutes later, wrapping her arms gently around her waist. “Hey. You okay?”

Lisa leaned back against her. “More than okay. I think this is the first time I’ve properly relaxed in months. No work, no estranged grandparents, no drama. Just us.”

Carla kissed the curve of her neck. “You’re glowing.”

“I’m sweating.”

“You’re pregnant and radiant and on holiday. I'm pretty sure part of being married means I'm legally required to dote on you.”

Lisa chuckled softly as she gazed out to the shimmering sea. “Well I'm not going to fight you on that.”

----

The week unfolded in a collage of perfect little moments.

Mornings began slowly, with mugs of tea on the bench in the front garden and Lisa wrapped in one of Carla’s kimonos. Betsy would tumble out of bed and immediately run outside to check if she could still see the sea from the top of the lane, as though she worried it might have moved overnight.

Carla insisted Lisa rest while she made scrambled eggs and toast with jam for them all, and Betsy would sit with Lisa, one hand on her bump, telling the baby about the beach they were going to visit that day.

“Don’t worry,” she’d whispered seriously. “You’ll get to come next year. I’ll show you how to build a really good sandcastle.”

At the beach, Lisa mostly stayed in the shade under a wide brimmed sunhat while Carla and Betsy raced into the surf. Carla shrieked when the cold water hit her knees and moaned when she got sand in her hair but it was clear to anyone who witnessed it that there was nothing on Earth she'd rather be doing. When they'd had enough of the water, Lisa helped Betsy to collect shells and smooth, interesting stones to put in the ‘treasure box’ she had brought with her from home.

Carla took pictures of all of it: Lisa laughing behind her sunglasses, Betsy tangled in towels, sand-flecked ham sandwiches being eaten with glee.

Every night, they returned to the cottage sunkissed and salty. Betsy would curl up in a makeshift bed on the sofa to watch a film while Lisa and Carla cooked together - nothing fancy, just simple food full of warmth and love. One night, after the little girl had fallen asleep halfway through Finding Dory, Carla led Lisa out onto the terrace again.

The stars were thick above them, glittering against the inky sky. Carla wrapped a blanket around Lisa’s shoulders and pulled her into her arms.

“I’ve loved every second of this week,” Lisa said quietly. “I didn’t even know how much I needed it.”

“I know,” Carla whispered, her voice full of love. “It's made me so happy watching you rest. Seeing you smile so much.”

Lisa glanced up at her. “Can we just forget that I cried because they didn't have raspberry ripple at the kiosk on Tuesday?”

“Never. Peak second trimester, that.”

They laughed softly and Lisa rested her head against Carla’s chest. “Betsy's been so happy. I wish we could pause this and live in it for a bit longer.”

Carla kissed the top of her head. “We can’t pause it, but we can take it with us.”

And they did.

Every grain of sand in Betsy's pockets. Every photo taken for the scrapbook Carla promised to make. Every touch of Lisa’s hand to her growing belly as she stood at the edge of the sea, imagining the little girl they’d be bringing back next year.

They carried it all home with them: love, in every sun drenched moment.

Chapter Text

The spare bedroom hadn’t changed much since Carla had moved from sleeping in there all those years ago to being in with Lisa. It had been a bit of an everything room over that time: part storage, part laundry overflow, part ‘where things go when we don’t know where else to put them’. Now it was going to be something else entirely; it was becoming the nursery.

Saturday morning arrived slow and bright. Carla made coffee, Lisa made toast, and then Betsy played with her dolls in the living room while her mums headed upstairs and eyed the door to the spare room with matching resolve.

Lisa rubbed her bump. “Well, little one,” she said, glancing down, “today we're making some space just for you.”

Inside the room, they found boxes of old books, suitcases that were stuffed full of clothes long out of use, some unopened Christmas decorations and one mystery box labelled ‘Carla - factory crap’.

They worked in tandem, side by side, sorting into piles: keep, donate, bin. Every so often, Carla would glance over at Lisa to make sure she wasn’t overdoing it. Lisa, determined and glowing, stubbornly insisted she was fine - though she did agree to take a quick break and sit down for five minutes when the baby seemed to lodge herself squarely under Lisa’s ribs in protest.

By the middle of the afternoon, the floor was finally visible again. The light streamed in, making the cleared room look suddenly full of possibility.

They stood in the middle of it, breathing it in.

“Feels more real now, doesn’t it?” Lisa said, her hand resting on the swell of her stomach.

Carla nodded. “It does.”

A beat passed, and then Lisa’s smile turned wistful. “It's strange, isn't it? That I don't have any of Betsy's old things. You know, from when she was a baby. I mean, it's all Helen and Dan's isn't it? They'd have had to do this for her - to buy her everything she needed when I was… When I couldn't.” She pressed her lips together and one side of her mouth turned down a little. “I remember doing this part before… building the furniture, setting it all up, buying books and little toys and outfits for her. It must've all just been left behind when I moved.” Carla came up behind her and rested her hands on Lisa's shoulders as she spoke. “It feels strange that we have Betsy but neither of us has actually done the baby thing before,” Lisa admitted, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a slight groan.

Carla joined her, taking Lisa’s hand and pulling it onto her lap to rub the pad of her thumb over her wife’s knuckles. “I’m sorry, darling,” she said quietly. “I…” She took a breath. “Sometimes I get so excited about what we have now - what we're going to have - that I forget there are some parts of all this that aren't new to you.” She laced her fingers in between Lisa’s.

There was a short pause, before Lisa spoke. “I'm excited too - really I am. I don't want you to feel like I'm not. And I'm not lying when I tell you I've never felt happier in my whole life than I do right now, here, with you. I just… There are just times when I still feel… sadness, I suppose. Loss… Of all the things I didn't get to do with Betsy. Or that I couldn't remember for all that time.”

Carla nodded, turning her head to look into her wife's glassy, green eyes. “That’s grief, Lise. You've lost so much. That's never going to go away, not completely. You're just learning to… live around it. To make new memories that go alongside the ones from before.”

“I'm really glad we've ended up here,” Lisa said, glancing around the room. “Making space for someone we didn't even know would come into our lives.”

Carla leaned her head against Lisa’s shoulder. “We’re lucky.”

“We are.” Lisa looked down, where their hands had joined together over her bump. “Starting something new and holding on to everything we already have.”

They sat in silence for a moment, a kind of peace wrapping around them.

Then Carla sat up a bit. “There is one thing I picked up the other day,” she said, leaving the room for a minute and returning with a white paper bag. “Betsy and I saw it when we went to get her those sea shoes in Cornwall.” She held up the tiniest sleepsuit, pure white and soft, with tiny pink stars dotted all over and a little grey bear holding a balloon on the left hand side near the chest.

Lisa smiled, eyes prickling. “Wow,” she breathed, reaching out to run her fingertips over the tiny feet.

Carla placed it in Lisa’s lap. “Maybe our little girl can wear this when she first comes home with us.”

“She’s going to be so lucky. She'll have her own things. Her own little pieces of the world.”

Carla grinned. “And we’ll keep them all this time.”

Chapter Text

It happened on a typical Wednesday afternoon.

They were all curled up on the sofa, watching a nature documentary about penguins. Betsy was snuggled against Carla’s side, thumb half in her mouth, eyes wide at the icy landscapes and occasionally narrating what she thought the penguins were saying to each other in a series of dramatic whispers.

Lisa wasn’t really watching. She had one hand resting on her stomach - something she found herself doing more and more these days without noticing. The baby was growing fast now; she’d started to show properly a few weeks ago and her bump was now unmistakable beneath her soft jumper.

Suddenly there was a flutter. 

Movement. 

Not her tummy rumbling. Not wishful thinking. A definite, undeniable thud from the inside. 

Lisa froze.

“Oh,” she said softly, eyes wide.

Carla looked over immediately. “Love? Are you okay?”

Lisa pressed her palm harder to the spot and let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “She just kicked. I think… no, I know she kicked.”

Carla sat up straighter. “Really?”

Lisa nodded, and her face folded with emotion. “I thought I knew what it might feel like. I’ve spent so long imagining it. But this-” her voice cracked, “this is her. Inside me. Saying hello.”

Betsy’s mouth fell open. “The baby kicked?”

Lisa looked down at her, grinning, tears building in her eyes. “Do you want to feel her?”

Betsy inched closer like she was approaching a sleeping animal, careful and tentative. Lisa took her small hand and pressed it against her stomach, just where she’d felt the movement.

They waited.

There was a pause. Then another kick. A soft thump against the surface of Lisa’s skin.

Betsy gasped. “She kicked me!” She wriggled closer, placing both hands gently next to each other. “Hello baby!”

Her eyes filled with wonder when the baby nudged again. 

Carla’s hand joined the others, warm and familiar. The moment her palm touched Lisa’s bump, the baby moved again - stronger this time, like she knew her mum was there. 

“She’s saying hi to us,” she whispered. 

Lisa turned to look at Carla, her eyes glistening. “I was on the outside last time. When Becky was pregnant with Betsy. I had to wait for her to tell me what it felt like - I could only guess.”

Carla brushed a tear from Lisa’s cheek with her thumb.

“But now,” Lisa whispered, voice breaking, “I get to feel it. Every day. Every little movement. This is happening in me.”

Carla leaned in and kissed her, softly and full of pride. “You’re doing something incredible, and you're doing it brilliantly.”

“Thank you for letting me be the one to do this for us.”

The three of them stayed huddled together like that, a tangled mess of limbs and warmth and wonder, all six hands pressed to Lisa's bump like it was the centre of the universe.

----

Carla plopped down next to Lisa on the sofa with a glass of wine. She draped one arm over the back of the sofa, watching her with a mixture of fascination and amusement. “You’re still smiling,” she teased softly, leaning closer. “You’ve hardly stopped since this afternoon.”

Lisa let out a quiet laugh, still half in awe. “I can’t help it. It felt… I don’t know, Carla. Real. Like properly real for the first time.”

Carla reached over, resting her hand gently over Lisa’s where it lay over the growing swell. “She is real. We’ve known that for months.”

Lisa nodded, but her gaze had drifted to the middle distance, lost in thought. “I didn't realise that knowing it and feeling it were such different things.”

----

Later, when Betsy was asleep and she was fresh from the shower, Lisa climbed into bed beside Carla. The glow from the bedside lamp caught the soft contours of her face, but there was something thoughtful - almost anxious - about her expression.

Carla noticed immediately. “You’re thinking,” she murmured, tucking herself closer to Lisa, “and not the good kind.”

Lisa exhaled, running her hand over the bump beneath her nightshirt. “It’s just… today it hit me. Properly. This little one is going to be here before we know it. And suddenly I realised - I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to giving birth.”

Carla softened, brushing her fingers along Lisa’s arm. “You’ll be amazing.”

“You don’t know that,” Lisa replied, trying to laugh it off but failing. “I’ve never done it before. When Betsy was born, it was… different - it wasn't how we'd planned it. Becky was… dying. I wasn’t even allowed in the room when they got her out.”

Carla’s expression shifted as her understanding deepened. She had been there for all of Lisa’s most vulnerable moments these past few years, but this felt different - more raw. “So you don't know what to expect?”

“I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately,” Lisa confessed. “The baby’s getting bigger and more real every day. And I know it’s still months away but… I’m scared, Carla.”

Carla’s heart ached. “Oh, love. Of course you are.”

Lisa shook her head. “And now, I can feel her moving inside me and all I can think about is what happens when it’s time for her to come out. What if I panic? What if I can’t do it? What if something goes wrong?”

Carla reached out, turning Lisa’s face towards her. “Lisa. Listen to me. You are one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through more than most could handle in a lifetime and you came out fighting. You’ll do the same with this.”

Lisa swallowed hard, eyes glassy. “But I feel completely clueless, Carla. I have no idea what it feels like. What happens first. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to… to cope.”

Carla took a moment before replying. “I mean, I know even less than you do. Do you think maybe it would help to talk to someone who does know? Helen’s done it. Twice. She could tell you what it’s really like - not the horror stories you read online.”

Lisa hesitated, then nodded slowly. “D'you think she would?”

“I know she would,” Carla said with certainty. “She cares about you. About us. She could help to put your mind at rest.”

Lisa rested her head on Carla’s shoulder, the weight of her thoughts still present but softened by the reassurance. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.”

Chapter Text

Late summer sun spilled across the narrow terraced houses as Lisa made her way up the path to Helen and Dan’s. She’d barely slept the night before, her mind running round in circles about the baby’s first kick, about how real it all suddenly felt, and - most of all - about what lay ahead.

Helen greeted her at the door with her usual warmth. “Hiya, Lise. Come in. You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Lisa smiled faintly, though her nerves were obvious. “Yeah, something like that.”

The house still smelled of the toast from breakfast and Lisa followed Helen into the kitchen where the kettle was already boiling. They settled at the table, mugs of tea in hand, before Helen finally asked, “So, what’s up?”

Lisa hesitated, then admitted, “I wanted to talk to you, if you don't mind… about giving birth. I felt the baby kick for the first time yesterday and it was amazing, but… now I can’t stop thinking about what comes next.”

Helen’s expression was immediately knowing. “Ah. That moment does make it all feel real, doesn’t it?”

Lisa nodded, her fingers tightening around her mug. “It does. And I realised that I’ve never really been there for any of it before. With Betsy, Becky had an emergency cesarean. I didn’t see anything: I wasn't there. I don’t know what it’s like - what it'll feel like - and the closer it gets, the more I’m… worrying.”

Helen reached across the table, giving Lisa’s hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s completely normal, you know. Every mum feels it whether it’s their first baby or their fourth.”

Lisa exhaled shakily. “So… what’s it like? Really like? I've looked online but people either tell horror stories or they tell you it’s all beautiful and I just… I need the truth. From someone I trust.”

Helen smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as though rewinding her memories. “Alright. I’ll give you both sides. No sugar coating, no drama. Just how it was for me.”

Lisa nodded, bracing herself.

“First off,” Helen began, “it’s different for everyone, which I know isn't necessarily helpful to say but it might be good to know that the things you've read online may not happen for you. With Oliver, it started slowly. Little twinges, almost like cramps, then stronger and closer together. I won’t lie - it hurts. But it’s not like any other pain, because you know exactly why it’s happening. Every minute, every contraction, it’s your body working to bring your baby to you.”

Lisa listened carefully, Helen’s thoughtful tone keeping her calm.

“When it got really intense,” Helen continued, “I remember thinking I couldn’t do it, but then Dan held my hand and the midwife said, ‘You’re nearly there,’ and something in me shifted. You don’t think about the pain anymore - you just focus on getting through and your body sort of… takes control.”

“And when it’s over?” Lisa asked softly.

Helen’s face softened into a smile that was almost luminous. “When they put that tiny, squirming little person on your chest, there’s nothing like it. Nothing. It’s like… It's like the whole world changes shape. Everything goes quiet and it’ll be just you and her. You'll feel like you’ve known her forever and only just met her all at once.”

Lisa’s throat tightened at the tenderness in Helen’s voice.

“I won’t say it’s easy,” Helen admitted, her tone still gentle, “but I promise you it’s worth every second. And you won’t be alone, Lisa. Carla will be there. The midwives will be there. They'll listen to you. To whatever you need.”

Lisa swallowed, emotions swelling in her chest. “Thank you. That… actually makes me feel a lot better. I just needed to hear it from someone who’s done it.”

Helen smiled knowingly. “And now you have.”

----

When Lisa got home later, Carla was in the garden with Betsy, who was proudly showing off a chalk drawing she’d done on the patio.

She lingered by the back door for a moment, just watching them. Carla was leaning on one hand, her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders and her eyes full of quiet affection as she nodded along to Betsy’s rambling tale.

Carla looked up and smiled. “Hey. You alright?”

Lisa nodded, bending to press a kiss to her temple. “Yeah. I think I am now.”

----

Carla was in the kitchen making a brew when Lisa came downstairs from tucking Betsy in. “Come here,” she called, pulling her wife close and wrapping her arms around her so she was completely enveloped.

The blonde's tired brow relaxed as she melted into Carla's hold.

“So… how did it go with Helen? Really.”

Lisa exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing patterns on Carla’s back. “Better than I thought. She didn’t sugar coat it. She said it’s hard, that it hurts, but… she also said it’s the most incredible thing she’s ever experienced.” She pulled back to look at Carla's face, still held by her wife's comforting arms. “When she talked about holding Ollie and Isla for the first time it was like… like I could feel what she felt just from the way she described it.”

Carla smiled wistfully. “Sounds like she was honest in all the right ways.”

“She was,” Lisa admitted, “and it did help. I’m still nervous - I don’t think that’ll go away completely - but I feel less… lost, I guess.”

Carla pressed a kiss to Lisa's forehead, before bringing her in close again. Lisa rested her ear against her wife's chest and listened to the steady heartbeat that never failed to calm her. 

“She reminded me that you'll be there with me. That helped, too.”

Carla stroked down the length of her soft, blonde hair. “I'll be with you through it all. Every breath. Every contraction. Every swear word you scream at me, I’ll be there. I won’t let go of your hand for a second - not until she’s in your arms.”

Lisa's tears spilled over but she didn't brush them away. 

“I'm going to have a baby, Carla,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Yeah, love. You are.”

They stood like that for a while, pressed together, breaths syncing up and the baby shifting gently between them like she knew they needed reminding that things would be alright.

“Maybe we could do some antenatal classes?” Carla said eventually. “Talk to midwives. Hear from other mums. It might help us feel more prepared.”

Lisa pulled back, wiping her face on her sleeve. “That… yeah. That might help. Just so it’s not all stuck in my head.”

“Then we will. Together.” Carla kissed her forehead. “You’re not alone in this, Lise. Not for one second.”

Between them, the baby gave a sharp nudge just to make sure they really knew.

Chapter Text

The scent of cut grass mingled with the faint sweetness of wildflowers as Carla and Lisa spread out a blanket under the tree. Betsy ran loops around them, barefoot and glowing with the kind of untempered joy that only came from summer days with no rules and no worrying about what the time was.

Lisa eased herself down onto the blanket with a small huff, her bump round beneath the flowing cotton of her shirt. “Next summer I’m bringing a deck chair,” she muttered, rubbing the base of her spine.

Carla grinned, sitting next to her and opening the cool bag. “Next summer you’ll have a baby on your lap - good luck trying to sit still.”

Lisa leaned her head on Carla’s shoulder for a second. “Don’t remind me how fast it’s going.”

“I know,” Carla said softly. “I keep thinking about Wednesday. Back to school: packed lunches, uniforms, no more mid-morning snuggles.”

“No more blanket dens in the living room," Lisa added.

“No more lying in and pretending we can't hear her spilling cereal everywhere.”

They both laughed. Across the grass, Betsy was chasing a butterfly in circles, her laughter loud and bright.

“It’s been a good summer,” Carla said, reaching for the Tupperware box of sandwiches.

Lisa nodded, leaning back on her hands. “The best. I wish we could freeze it.”

“But then we wouldn’t get to meet that little one,” Carla reminded her, passing her a drink and nodding towards the ever-expanding swell.

It wasn't long before Betsy ran back, breathless and flushed. “I’m starving. Did you bring the triangle sandwiches?”

“I did,” Carla said proudly, lifting the lid to reveal little sandwiches in perfectly crustless quarters, “and strawberries and the pizza flavoured crisps we opened last night.”

“Best mums ever,” Betsy declared, collapsing dramatically.

They all sat together on the blanket with limbs overlapping, fingers sticky with fruit juice and the park buzzing gently with other families who wanted to soak up the last of the holiday sun.

Between bites, Lisa reached down to her stomach and gave it a gentle pat. “Right then,” she said to the bump. “We’ve got a big decision to make.”

“What decision?” Betsy asked with a mouthful of crisps.

“What we’re going to call your little sister,” Carla explained.

Betsy’s eyes lit up. “Can I help?”

“Of course,” Lisa said. “We need all the ideas we can get.”

“I quite like Nola,” Lisa said thoughtfully. “Modern. Bright. A bit different. I saw it on one of those lists online.”

Carla wrinkled her nose. “It sounds like a car.”

Lisa grinned. “You’re thinking of a Kia.”

Carla shrugged. “Still. I was thinking something a bit more classic. Like Eleanor. Or Charlotte.”

Betsy made a face. “That sounds like a teacher.”

“It’s a lovely name,” Carla defended.

“Elsa!” Betsy blurted out suddenly. “Like from Frozen!”

Carla raised her eyebrows. “Do we really want to be singing ‘Let It Go’ every time we change her nappy?”

“Or Mirabel from Encanto?”

Lisa giggled. “Looks like we might end up with a Disney princess on our hands.”

“We already have one,” Carla said, tapping the tip of Betsy’s nose with her fingertip.

They all laughed. The conversation flowed easily, with suggestions flying in all directions: Luna, Daisy, Zelda, Matilda, Sophie, Skye. Some names were met with giggles, others with dramatic groans of disapproval and a few with thoughtful silence as the possibility settled.

Eventually Betsy managed to persuade her mums that her lunch had gone down enough to go back on the swings and the two women lay back on the blanket, full and warm and blinking up at the cloudless sky.

“I can’t believe we won’t get to do this with her all day anymore,” Lisa said softly, her hand finding Carla’s without even looking.

“I know. It’s been magic,” Carla said. “But maybe the best part is still to come.”

Lisa turned her head towards her.

Carla smiled. “We get to do it all over again. From the very beginning.”

----

Carla had been unusually pensive since they'd been home. Lisa noticed it in the way she stirred the teabag around the mug until it was stronger than Carla usually liked it, and in the way she kept glancing into the nursery as she passed its door, as though she were seeing the baby that the room would soon belong to.

Finally, Lisa placed her cup of tea down and turned towards her. “You’re miles away. What’s on your mind?”

Carla hesitated, biting her lip as she considered where to start. Then she said softly, “When we were talking about names earlier…”

Lisa nodded. “There's still plenty of time to decide, isn't there? We don't need to rush it.”

Carla drew in a steadying breath. “Not the first name: I know we said we'd keep talking about it and then decide when we meet her. It’s actually her middle name I’ve been thinking about.”

Lisa tilted her head, curiously. “Okay…”

Carla looked down into her tea. “I was wondering… how you’d feel about giving her the middle name Hayley.”

Lisa’s expression softened immediately. “Hayley… as in Roy’s Hayley?”

Carla nodded, her throat constricting unexpectedly. “Yeah. She… she was more than just Roy’s wife to me, Lisa. She was… the closest thing I ever had to a mother who actually cared. She saw me at my worst - truly at my worst - and somehow… she still managed to see something good in me. Even when I couldn’t see it myself.”

Lisa reached out, covering Carla’s hand with her own, encouraging her to continue.

Carla swallowed, memories pressing painfully against her chest. “When I was younger, before I knew her properly, I used to think people like Hayley didn’t exist. People who’d actually go out of their way to care about someone like me. But she did. She believed in second chances - and third and fourth ones, too. She taught me that no matter what I'd been through or how badly I'd messed things up, I could still find a way to be better… to be more than my past.”

Her voice grew quieter. “She saved me, Lise. Not with grand gestures but with kindness. With cups of tea and chats in the factory, with the way she made me feel like I wasn’t… irredeemable.”

Lisa’s heart ached at the emotion in Carla’s voice. “She meant a lot to you.”

Carla nodded, blinking quickly. “She did. When she got ill, it broke me in ways I can’t explain but even then, she made me promise to be the kind of person she believed I could be.”

Lisa rubbed Carla’s arm. “You’ve more than kept that promise. You helped me out of the darkness. You’re an amazing mum to Betsy and you’re going to be for our baby, too.”

Carla gave a shaky smile, but her eyes were still glistening. “That’s why I want to do this. I want to give her a name that means something. Something that says she was born into love and into a family built on the kindness Hayley showed me.”

Lisa sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. Then she asked softly, “You were nervous to bring this up, weren’t you?”

Carla gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Maybe a bit. She's your baby too - I didn’t want you to feel like I was imposing my past on her.”

Lisa reached up, cupping her wife’s face gently. “Carla… if Hayley was the person who helped you believe in yourself, then she’s part of the reason we’re here now - together, with this little girl coming into our lives. Of course I want to honour her.”

Carla’s breath caught. “Really?”

“Really,” Lisa said firmly. “Hayley it is. As a middle name. I never got to know her but I do know you and she'd be so proud of you.”

Carla leaned forward, resting her forehead against Lisa’s. “Thank you. I don’t know why I was so nervous to ask.”

“Because it mattered to you,” Lisa murmured, “and the things that matter most are always the hardest to say out loud.”

Chapter Text

It was a big day. Betsy was humming to herself between bites of toast and swinging her legs under her chair, trying not to look too nervous. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in soft waves, still waiting for Lisa to work her magic with the hairbrush.

Lisa, already dressed for the school run, was buttering her own round of toast and watching her closely. “Are you sure you’ve got everything in your bag?”

“Mummy,” Betsy said, rolling her eyes fondly. “I've checked it three times.”

“And you’ve got your lunchbox?”

Betsy nodded, wiping a crumb from her cheek. “Yep, Mum packed it - I chose Quavers and that yoghurt I like.”

Carla swooped in with her purple lunch bag and matching water bottle. “And now you’ve got your drink too. Almost had to take out a loan to kit you out with all this Smiggle stuff.”

Lisa smiled, leaning back slightly and placing a hand on her bump. “The baby’s lucky to have such a cool big sister.”

Betsy grinned, puffing out her chest a bit. “I'm gonna tell her all about school when I get home.”

“Big day, Bets,” Carla said, popping a cup of apple juice down in front of her. “Year Three! You’ll be running that school before long.”

Betsy giggled. “I don’t want to run the school, Mum. I just want to get a good seat next to Ella.”

Lisa leaned down, kissing the top of her head before grabbing a brush from the table. “Speaking of important things - how do you want your hair today? Plaits? Ponytail?”

Betsy grinned. “Plaits. But with the little clips at the ends, please.”

“Plaits it is,” Lisa said, gently beginning to section her hair. As she brushed, Betsy leaned back against her, eyes half closed. Lisa exchanged a glance with Carla, who smiled knowingly - these quiet, simple rituals were their favourite parts of parenthood.

When breakfast was cleared away, Lisa helped Betsy into her shoes and smoothed the front of her cardigan. Carla grabbed her own coat and checked the time.

“Right then, ladies. Are we ready to walk our little superstar to school?”

Betsy hesitated, fiddling with her sleeve. “Can I… um… can I ask you something?”

Lisa crouched, as best she could around the baby, so they were eye level. “Of course you can, sweetheart. What’s up?”

Betsy shifted awkwardly. “Is it okay if we… don't hold hands on the way? I mean… I’m in the Juniors now. The others might think it’s… you know…”

Lisa felt something twist in her chest, but she kept her expression light. “Embarrassing?”

Betsy nodded sheepishly. “A bit. But I still love you. Loads.”

Carla, watching from the doorway, swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You don’t have to explain, kiddo, we get it. You’re growing up.”

Betsy’s eyes flicked between them. “You’re not upset?”

Lisa smiled softly, though her heart ached. “Maybe just a tiny bit, but only because we love holding your hands. You’re getting so big on us, Bets.”

Betsy gave them both a quick hug, sensing their emotions. “I promise I’ll still give you kisses before I go in.”

----

The walk to school did feel a bit different. Lisa and Carla walked side by side, their fingers brushing before lacing together, holding each other’s hands instead. Betsy skipped slightly ahead, bag bouncing against her back and calling out to friends and neighbours as they passed.

Carla leaned toward Lisa and whispered, “When did she stop needing us anymore?”

Lisa squeezed her hand. “She still needs us. Just… in different ways now.”

When they reached the school gates, Betsy spotted her friends and her face lit up. She ran over to them, chatting excitedly about her summer holidays and new pencil case. Lisa and Carla stood back, watching with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

After a few minutes, Betsy jogged back to them, beaming with excitement. She wrapped her arms around Carla first, then Lisa, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks when they bent down to her. 

“Love you, Mum. Love you, Mummy.”

“Love you too, darling,” Carla whispered, hugging her close.

Then Betsy moved closely in front of Lisa’s bump, placed her palms softly and whispered, “Bye, baby. I’ll tell you all about my day when I get home, okay?” She gave the curve a little kiss over Lisa’s shirt before standing and grinning up at them.

Lisa felt tears prick her eyes, but she forced a bright smile. “We can’t wait to hear all about it.”

With that, Betsy turned and ran to join her friends, disappearing into the sea of children in the playground as the bell rang.

Carla slipped her arm around Lisa’s waist as they walked away from the school. “You’re holding it together well,” she teased gently.

Lisa let out a shaky laugh. “Barely. I keep seeing her in that uniform and thinking - where did our little girl go?”

Carla kissed her temple softly. “She’s still our girl. Just… a bit taller. And a bit more self-conscious.”

Lisa smiled, resting her head briefly against Carla’s shoulder as they walked home, hand in hand - already looking forward to three fifteen, when Betsy would come running back to them with a head full of stories.

Carla bumped her shoulder gently against Lisa’s. “We’ve got the whole day. What do you want to do?”

Lisa gave her a look. “Oh, you mean besides the thrilling world of flatpack nursery furniture?”

Carla laughed. “Hey, I took the day off from the factory for this. You know how hard it is to get time off when Michelle’s having one of those weeks.”

“Well then,” Lisa said, slipping her arm into Carla’s, “let’s go and buy a changing table and argue about drawer handles in public.”

They spent the next few hours strolling through the Trafford Centre, pausing often for Lisa to catch her breath or to rub her back as the baby pressed on everything inside her.

Their first stop was a baby furniture showroom. Lisa ran her hands over the smooth edges of a white wooden cot, her eyes bright with excitement. “What do you think? Classic, isn't it? Then we can decide on a colour scheme later?”

Carla grinned, leaning against the rail. “Is it strong enough to survive Betsy climbing in to ‘help’ with night feeds?”

Lisa laughed. “We’ll set some ground rules. Maybe.”

After furniture came the endless aisles of tiny clothes. Lisa held up a tiny pair of dungarees. “Can you believe an actual person is going to be this small?”

Carla took them gently from her, fingers brushing Lisa’s. “Can you believe we’re going to be parents to someone this small?”

It became a theme: every aisle, every item brought fresh waves of anticipation. After a few hours, Lisa began to slow, her hand resting on her bump more often, her breaths deepening even though she tried not to show it.

Carla noticed immediately. “Lise… how about we call it a day? You look shattered.”

Lisa hesitated. “We’ve still got half the list-”

Carla silenced her with a look. “The rest can wait. We don't have to get it all at once.”

By the time they reached home, Lisa was visibly wilting. Carla helped her to the sofa, surrounded her with cushions, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You stay put. I’ll go and get Betsy. You just… nap.”

Lisa mumbled a sleepy protest but was already drifting off as Carla slipped out of the door.

----

Betsy bounced over to Carla the moment she spotted her outside the school gates, her rucksack swinging wildly.

“Mum! You should have seen - Mr. Edwards said I wrote the best recount about our holiday today!”

Carla crouched to hug her tightly. “That’s my girl. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Hey - guess what Mummy and I did all day?”

Betsy’s eyes widened. “Did you buy baby stuff?”

Carla grinned. “Loads. Wait ‘til you see.”

When they got home, Betsy tiptoed into the living room where Lisa was curled up under a blanket. Carla whispered, “Go on, Bets - you can wake her up gently. I promised her you would.”

Betsy leaned close, whispering against Lisa’s cheek. “Mummy? We’re home.”

Lisa stirred, eyes fluttering open to find her daughter’s excited face inches from hers. She smiled, stretching. “Hey, monkey. How was the first day back?”

Betsy immediately launched into a detailed account of everything - her writing, her new seat by the window and how she’d been chosen to be a book monitor this term. Lisa listened intently, soaking up every word.

When Betsy paused for breath, Lisa sat up and gestured towards the pile of shopping bags. “And guess what? We bought so many things for the baby’s room. D'you want to see?”

Betsy’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Can we look now?”

The three of them sat together on the carpet, unpacking tiny outfits and soft blankets, running fingers over the smooth wood of a mobile as they took it out of its box. Betsy held up a pair of socks and giggled. “These are so tiny!”

Lisa laughed, pulling her close. “Soon, they’ll be keeping your little sister’s feet warm.”

Carla watched them both, heart full. Despite the exhaustion of the day, Lisa’s eyes were bright again - this time with joy.

Chapter Text

Michelle knocked on the door just after six, grinning with a bottle of Appletiser in one hand and a bag filled with colouring books and popcorn in the other.

“I’m ready for battle,” she said with a wink as Betsy shrieked in delight and ran to her.

“Movie night!” Betsy shouted, grabbing her hand.

“Pyjamas are on, and Disney+ is logged in,” Carla called from the hallway, slipping on her coat. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Michelle glanced over her shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Go. You’ve got a baby class to be late for.”

Lisa appeared at the top of the stairs, tying her hair into a ponytail. “It’s not a baby class. It’s antenatal education.”

Michelle smiled, rolling her eyes. “I know, I know. Good luck.”

Lisa descended slowly, one hand on the bannister and the other pressed into her back. She looked composed, but Carla had seen the way she'd been fidgeting with the skin around her fingernails all day.

“You sure you still want to go?” Carla asked quietly once the front door was closed behind them.

Lisa glanced at her, hesitantly. “I do. I just… I feel so silly being nervous.”

Carla nudged her gently as they walked. “You’re not silly. We’re doing something completely new. New things can be scary.”

Lisa gave a crooked smile. “I just hope the people are nice. I'm going because I want to feel less scared about it all, not more.”

“Listen, I don't know what the people will be like,” Carla said truthfully, “but I bet the biscuits will be good and I promise not to leave you on your own for even a minute.”

That earned a small laugh from Lisa as they climbed into the car.

----

The community centre was warm and softly lit, with chairs and beanbags set out in a circle and a table at the back offering tea, coffee, water and - just as Carla had guessed - an impressive selection of biscuits. Lisa hesitated in the doorway until Carla gently placed her hand on the small of her back and guided her in.

Lisa followed the others who were already settled and sat carefully on a beanbag, glancing around. Most of the mums looked to be at around the same stage as her - some maybe a little further along - but everyone seemed to share the same cautious anticipation, judging by their hushed whispers and tentative expressions.

The instructor, a cheerful woman named Tess, clapped her hands together. “Welcome, everyone! This is our first class so tonight is all about introductions, a little bit of theory and some practical exercises to get you feeling more confident.”

Lisa squeezed Carla’s hand and whispered, “Practical exercises?”

As the class began, Tess encouraged everyone to pair up with another couple and share what they were most nervous about. Lisa and Carla found themselves next to a young couple - Hannah and Jake - who looked even more anxious than they did.

Hannah was petite, with kind eyes and a protective hand resting constantly on her bump. “Honestly,” she confessed, “I’m terrified of what's going to happen at the birth. I keep picturing everything going wrong, even though I'm trying really hard not to.”

Lisa blinked, surprised to hear her own fears spoken aloud by someone else. “Me too,” she admitted. “I’ve been feeling the baby move for a while now and it just makes everything feel so real - like there’s no turning back.”

Hannah gave a shaky laugh. “Exactly. Jake keeps telling me women have been doing this forever, but… I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Lisa smiled gently. “Same here. But maybe that’s why we’re all here: to figure it out together.”

Carla and Jake exchanged knowing looks, both pleased that their partners were finding safety in sharing their concerns. 

Tess guided the class through some simple breathing exercises - slow, deep inhalations followed by measured exhalations.

“Breathing helps to manage pain and keeps you focused,” she explained, demonstrating. “Now, partners - your job is to help remind your loved one to stay calm when things feel intense.”

Carla leaned close, whispering, “I think I can manage breathing instructions. I’ve been bossing people around for years.”

Lisa elbowed her, barely suppressing a laugh, and nearly lost her rhythm. Hannah, on the other side, giggled too, and soon the four of them were struggling to keep straight faces while everyone else breathed serenely.

Tess gave them a good natured glance. “It’s okay to laugh! Birth isn’t all serious faces - it’s about connection, too.”

----

The second half of the class was a gentle overview of what to expect during labour: early signs, when to head to hospital and the role of the birthing partner.

Lisa listened carefully, her brow furrowed. Carla could feel her grip tighten every time Tess mentioned contractions or dilation.

When the session broke briefly for tea and biscuits, Carla pulled her aside for a moment. “You’re doing brilliantly, Lise. I know some of this is a bit scary but you’re listening - taking it all in.”

Lisa exhaled slowly. “It feels… less scary, hearing it like this - getting my head around it. I mean, I’m still nervous, but maybe not as much as I was. Knowledge is power, I guess.”

Hannah joined them, holding a paper cup of tea with both hands. “Same. I feel like I’m not the only one panicking now. Makes it easier, you know?”

Lisa nodded. “Definitely. Maybe we can stick together through the next few classes?”

Hannah smiled. “I’d like that.”

----

By the end of the evening, Lisa felt lighter. Not fearless - far from it - but more informed.

As they left the centre, Carla slipped an arm around her waist. “Well, Mrs. Swain, how are you feeling after your first antenatal adventure?”

Lisa let out a small laugh. “Like I might just survive childbirth after all and relieved that I’m not the only one terrified of it.”

Carla kissed the side of her head. “You’re braver than you think, Lise. And when the time comes, I’ll be right there, reminding you to breathe.”

Lisa smiled, leaning into her. “And making me laugh in between contractions.”

Carla grinned. “That’s all you have to remember. I'm here for you, Lise. I always will be.”

Lisa blinked quickly and then smiled, holding up the leaflet she’d picked up on the way out. “You’re not getting out of these breathing exercises either, you know.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Carla said, opening the passenger door and holding out a hand to help her wife down into the seat.

Chapter Text

Lisa was nestled on the sofa with a blanket over her knees and a mug of warm tea in her hands when Carla kissed her forehead and announced the plan.

“We’re going out,” she said brightly, standing in the hallway with her coat already on and Betsy excitedly bouncing behind her.

“Out?” Lisa asked, blinking.

“Just me and Betsy,” Carla said. “We’ve got a very special mission, haven’t we kiddo?”

Betsy grinned so hard her cheeks swelled. “A secret mission! For the baby.”

Lisa tilted her head. “Oh?”

“You’ll see,” Carla said, winking. “Feet up, telly on, and no moving - got it?”

“I could come with you - for a bit at least?”

Carla shook her head. "No, love. You’re exhausted; you’ve been running yourself ragged all week between work and sorting out baby bits at home. You need a proper rest day. Anyway, we've got things to do."

Betsy looked up, jam still smeared across her cheek from breakfast, and grinned. "Can we still have ice cream for lunch?"

Carla raised an eyebrow, feigning sternness. "After lunch, not instead of, and it depends on whether you're going to share any with me."

Betsy giggled. "Maybe."

Lisa smiled softly at the pair of them - the easy way Carla made everything fun for Betsy while still somehow being the grown up. She rested her hand over the bump, feeling the movement within, and wondered if the new baby would have that same cheeky glint in her eyes.

----

An hour later, Carla and Betsy were strolling hand in hand through the shopping centre, their steps echoing slightly underneath the glass dome. The place was already buzzing with weekend shoppers and the smell of cinnamon from a nearby bakery stand floated through the air.

"Right," Carla said, crouching down so she was eye level with Betsy. "Here’s the plan. First stop is baby things. You get to pick something - anything - you think your little sister would like when she arrives. Sound good?"

Betsy nodded eagerly. "Something soft. Babies like soft things."

They wandered into a shop and Betsy made a beeline for the display of soft toys, spotting a plush lamb and immediately clutching it to her chest. “It’s soft like mummy’s jumpers,” she said. “I think the baby will like to snuggle it at bedtime and maybe if she wakes up in the night, it can make her feel safe."

Carla felt her throat tighten slightly. "That’s a lovely idea, kiddo. She’s going to love it so much because her big sister chose it just for her."

Betsy beamed, her eyes shining with pride. "Can I get her some clothes too? Maybe something with rainbows on it?"

They spent the next half an hour browsing racks of tiny dresses and onesies, Betsy carefully selecting a pale green sleepsuit covered in little rainbows and clouds. Carla added a soft knitted blanket to their pile, one she could already picture being wrapped around their newborn at the hospital.

Once the baby gifts were purchased and bagged up, Carla steered Betsy towards a small wellness store nearby. The smell of lavender and chamomile drifted out as they stepped inside.

"Okay, now," Carla whispered, leaning down conspiratorially. "This is where we find something for Mummy. It's not an easy job growing your sister and I think she deserves a treat. What do you reckon?"

Betsy thought for a moment before nodding. "She likes candles and bubble bath."

Carla chuckled. "That she does."

They spent a long time opening and smelling all the different products. Betsy chose a fluffy pair of socks in Lisa’s favourite pale blue and a lavender and chamomile pillow mist. Carla added a candle that smelled like vanilla and bergamot and, on a whim, a hardcover journal with a deep blue cover and gold-edged pages.

“Something for her to write in,” she explained. “Thoughts. Dreams. Worries.”

"Can we get her some flowers too?" Betsy asked a little later, as they passed a florist. "She likes when the house smells nice."

Carla smiled. "You’re turning into quite the thoughtful little gift giver, d’you know that? Sounds perfect."

----

They stopped for lunch at a café with large windows that looked out over a park, settling into a booth with their shopping bags piled next to them. Betsy ordered a milkshake and pesto pasta while Carla opted for a chicken salad and - because Betsy gave her best puppy dog eyes - a side of cheesy garlic bread for them to share.

As they ate, Carla asked, "So… are you still excited about becoming a big sister?"

Betsy nodded but then paused, a small crease forming between her brows. "I think so. But… what if she cries when she sees me? Or what if she likes you and Mummy more than me?"

"Oh, Bets. She’s going to love you more than anyone. You’re going to be her favourite person in the whole world because you’ll be the one showing her all the cool stuff, like how to build the best castles out of Lego and how to persuade us to let her have an extra biscuit before tea."

Betsy giggled. "I’m good at that."

"You’re the best at that," Carla agreed, grinning. "And if she cries a bit at first, that’s just her way of saying she needs a cuddle. But we’ll figure it out together. We’re a team, aren't we?"

Betsy nodded, reassured, and took a huge bite of garlic bread. "Yeah. A team."

----

When they finally arrived home, Lisa was still on the sofa under a blanket, dozing lightly. She stirred when she heard the front door and blinked sleepily as Carla and Betsy came in, arms laden with shopping bags.

"Hey," she murmured, sitting up. "How was it?"

"Brilliant," Carla said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "We’ve got a haul to show you."

Betsy began pulling items out of the bags one by one, proudly holding up the lamb, rainbow sleepsuit and the blanket. "These are for the baby," she explained, "so she knows we already love her loads."

Lisa’s eyes softened as she reached out to touch the lamb's silky ear. "Oh, sweetheart… these are perfect."

"And these are for you," Betsy added, handing over the socks, pillow mist and candle.

The journal came last, and when Lisa opened the cover to see that Carla had already written the first line - This is your journey. I’m beside you all the way - her breath caught.

Lisa looked between Betsy and Carla, clearly overwhelmed. "You two… You’ve spoiled me."

Carla knelt beside her, resting her head gently against Lisa’s shoulder. "You deserve spoiling, love. You’re growing our little girl.”

That’s the most important job ever," Betsy added. “You need to feel calm so the baby knows it’s okay to come out soon.”

“Hopefully not too soon! Thank you,” Lisa said, sincerely, blinking back tears. She kissed Carla, then pulled Betsy into her lap for a cuddle. "I feel like the luckiest mummy ever.”

Chapter Text

Lisa sat on their bed, up against the headboard, in her pyjamas and wrapped in the warmth of the fluffy socks her girls had picked out for her. Carla and Betsy’s laughter drifted in from Betsy’s bedroom and the lavender pillow mist hovered in the air, soft and sleepy and safe. In her lap sat the journal - navy blue, gold-edged, untouched apart from Carla’s handwriting on the first page.

This is your journey. I’m beside you all the way.

Lisa traced the words with her fingers, then slowly picked up the pen she'd brought upstairs with her.

She sat for a long time, just looking at the blank page and thinking. Then, she began.

September 29th

I’m seven months pregnant. I still can't really believe I’m saying that - or writing it. There are moments when I catch sight of my reflection and see how huge I am and think, how on earth did we get here? But then I feel the baby moving, rippling under my skin, and it makes it feel real in a way nothing else can.

I’m not going to lie, I'm more than a bit nervous. I’ve never done this before. When Betsy was born, I wasn’t there. I missed so much. So, this - feeling the baby kicking, knowing I’ll be there when she takes her very first breath - it’s scary, but it’s also the most exciting thing I can imagine.

Sometimes I lie awake at night and think about everything that’s happened. There was a time - not even that long ago - when I didn’t think I’d have a future like this. Not with Betsy, not with Carla and certainly not with another baby.

But life has a funny way of surprising you I suppose, and now here I am - a bit older, a bit wiser and so unbelievably grateful.

Betsy has been my biggest teacher. She's taught me how to be brave, how to try even when I was terrified I’d get it wrong. Carla… well, she taught me how to believe in myself again. She saw something in me I couldn’t see for a long time. She still does actually, every single day. And this little one – she's teaching me patience. Hope. What it feels like to dream about the future and really mean it.

Betsy's been back at school for three and a bit weeks. She loves her new teacher but it seems to be taking her a bit longer to settle this year. Mind you, she did ask me earlier if we could look for a book in the library because her class started reading it last week so I think maybe she's coming around.

Carla took her out this morning to buy presents for the baby. They also came back with things for me - thoughtful, warm, perfectly ‘them’ things. The socks I’m wearing feel like a hug. The journal is beautiful. And the pillow mist… well, the whole room smells blissful!

Sometimes I sit with my hands on my stomach and try to picture what she’ll be like. The baby, I mean. I keep wondering if she’ll have Carla’s calm or my quiet storms. If she’ll love reading like Betsy does. If she’ll laugh with her whole chest or get that serious, thoughtful look when she’s concentrating.

I’m looking forward to the day we bring her home. I can already picture it - Betsy hovering nearby, wanting to be the first to hold her properly. 

I can’t wait to see Carla with her. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be amazing. She already is. She’s been amazing with Betsy from the start - patient, gentle, fun and fiercely protective. I think she’s going to fall in love with the baby the second she sees her. In fact, I know she already has.

Sometimes, when I really let myself think about it, I feel this huge ache of gratitude. Because I get to do this. Because I get to grow her. Because I still can’t quite believe that I ended up here - in this house, in this family, with all this love. It doesn’t feel like something I deserved. It feels like something I was lucky enough to stumble into, like tripping and landing in the middle of my own miracle.

There’s still fear, if I’m honest. I don’t know how this story ends. And I still think about Becky sometimes, in the quiet moments, and how she never got to do the part we'll get to do when the baby's here. But tonight, there’s peace too. Peace and love, and a candle that smells like maybe everything’s going to be okay.

Carla, I know you’ll read this one day. So thank you. For the socks. For the space to write this. For being the one who made it all feel possible. For seeing all the cracks in me and loving me anyway. You and our two beautiful girls are all I'll ever need. 

----

Lisa blinked back the wetness in her eyes, slowly closed the journal, and placed it carefully on the bedside table. She rubbed her bump gently and whispered, “Goodnight, little girl.”

Carla padded into the room with a pile of folded washing in her arms and paused at the foot of the bed.

“Writing?” she asked softly.

Lisa nodded. “I did my first page.”

Carla smiled, slipping into bed beside her. “How was it?”

Lisa leaned into her, resting her head against Carla’s chest. “It felt… honest.”

They sat in silence for a minute, the candle’s calming scent washing over them.

Then Carla said, “That’s all she’ll ever need from you. Honesty and love.”

Lisa rubbed her hand up and down her bump again smiled. Honestly and love: she could manage that.

Chapter Text

It had started innocently enough.

The three of them were sat in the living room on a rainy Friday afternoon. Betsy had dragged every pillow and blanket in the house into a huge, teetering nest in front of the TV, where she'd curled up to listen to the rain drumming against the windows. 

Lisa was stretched out on the sofa with her feet on Carla’s lap, one hand resting on her stomach, idly stroking it as the baby wriggled gently beneath her skin.

Suddenly, Betsy's voice pierced the quiet.

“Mummy?”

“Mm?” Lisa replied, opening her resting eyes and turning her head towards her daughter's where it just poked out from her makeshift den.

“How does the baby come out?”

Lisa and Carla exchanged a glance over her bump.

Lisa shifted so she was sitting up a bit. “Well, um... When it’s time for the baby to be born, my body will do all the things it needs to so she can come out.”

“But how does she come out?” Betsy pressed. “Through your belly button?”

Lisa blinked. “No - no, definitely not.”

“Your tummy then? Like, will the doctor cut her out like they did with me?”

Carla jumped in gently. “Sometimes babies are born that way, yes, but hopefully your little sister will come out another way.”

Betsy wrinkled her nose. “Out of your bum?”

Lisa stifled a laugh. “No, not quite. There’s a special part of a woman’s body, called a vagina, that’s made for babies to come through when the time is right.”

The little girl stared at them wide-eyed like she’d just been let in on the world’s weirdest secret. “That sounds... really hard,” she said solemnly. “Is it scary?”

Lisa hesitated for a moment. “It can be a bit scary, yes, and it hurts, but it’s also amazing. It’s what our bodies are built to do.”

“But who’ll be with you? Just Mum?”

“Yeah,” Carla said. “I’ll be there. There'll also be midwives - special people who know how to help babies come into the world.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Can I come?” Betsy asked.

Both Lisa and Carla blinked.

“To the hospital?” Lisa said.

“To see the baby be born,” Betsy clarified, clambering out of her blanket nest and making her way to the sofa. “I could help. And I'd be really, really quiet.”

Lisa opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked at Carla, who seemed just as thrown.

“Well,” Carla said slowly, “that’s... something we hadn’t thought about.”

“But I want to,” Betsy insisted. “I don’t want to miss it. It’s my baby sister.”

Lisa reached over to tuck a piece of hair behind Betsy’s ear. “We understand that. We really do. It’s just that sometimes babies don’t arrive quickly. It can take a long time and be tiring and loud and messy. It might be a bit... much for you.”

Betsy looked down, thinking. “But wouldn’t it be good if I could be the first person to say hello to her?”

Carla smiled gently. “That’s a beautiful thought, lovey.”

The conversation moved on, but the question lingered; even as Betsy returned to her den and began to whisper dramatic imaginary scenes as she played with her toys, Lisa and Carla sat quietly with the echo of it.

----

Carla came down the stairs after bedtime to find Lisa sitting on the sofa with a blanket around her shoulders and a conflicted look on her face.

Carla sat down next to her, thigh to thigh. She sighed.

“You’re thinking about it too, aren’t you?” Lisa asked softly. “To be honest, I'm surprised we made it this far before she asked how it all happens. I just didn't think she'd ask to be there.”

Carla nodded. “At first I thought it was out of the question. But then I thought... maybe it’s not.”

Lisa sighed. “I don’t want to traumatise her.”

“Of course not, but she is part of this, Lise. Betsy's already so connected to the baby - it’s not silly of her to want to be there.”

Lisa hesitated, tracing her finger along the edge of her mug. “I do understand why she wants it. She’s worried she’s going to feel left out, like she’s going to lose her place once the baby arrives. She wants to prove she’s part of it.”

Carla’s expression softened. “She’s not wrong. She’s been through so much already - losing Becky, being with Helen and Dan, watching you learn to be her mum again. She’s clung to us every step of the way. Maybe this is her way of saying, ‘Don’t forget me now.’”

Lisa leaned into Carla, resting her head on her arm. “What if something goes wrong?”

“Then we decide, together, how to protect her from that. But if it’s safe... if it’s possible... maybe we don’t have to say no just because we’re scared of what it might be like.”

Lisa was quiet for a moment. “I was so scared of being the one to give birth and now I’m scared of her seeing it. But maybe... maybe she’d surprise us.”

Carla kissed the top of her head. “She usually does.”

Lisa smiled, her voice warm and quiet. “Can we keep thinking about it?”

“Together,” Carla said, nodding. “No rush.”

They sat with the weight of the question gently resting between them - not an answer yet, but possibility.

----

Lisa clutched her water bottle a bit tighter as she and Carla stepped into the room. It was their second antenatal class and the nerves from last time had mostly settled, although Lisa still found her stomach tightening slightly when she looked around again at the other couples, all similarly expectant with neat little bumps or not-so-little ones like hers.

Carla nudged her shoulder. “Hey. We’ve got this.”

Lisa gave her a small, grateful smile. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one whose hips keep clicking every time she moves.”

“True,” Carla said, “but I am the one who’s deeply invested in watching you learn how to bounce on a birthing ball without looking like you’re about to fly off it.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “You’re hilarious.”

Tess once again clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Right, let’s talk about the stages of labour. We’ll keep it fairly light today - lots of time for questions and practical stuff.”

Lisa squeezed Carla’s hand where it lay on her lap. She didn’t let go.

As the session progressed, Carla could feel Lisa relaxing slightly. Tess explained everything clearly, even the messy parts. She explained the stages of labour, using diagrams and a small doll to show how the baby moved through the birth canal. Lisa tried to focus on the facts rather than the nerves rising in her chest.

When the group was asked to practise their breathing techniques again and one father-to-be got the giggles so badly he had to leave the room, Carla looked over at her wife and was relieved to see her smiling widely.

After that, Tess moved on to pain management options. “We’ll talk about gas and air, pethidine and epidurals,” she said, “but remember - there’s no ‘one-size-fits-all’ birth. What matters is making choices that feel right for you.”

As she spoke, Lisa noticed Hannah raise her hand. “Can I ask… um… what if you’re scared of the pain? Like… really scared?”

Tess smiled reassuringly. “That’s very normal. Fear of pain is one of the most common worries but the truth is, every contraction brings you closer to meeting your baby. There are ways to make it more bearable: breathing, support from your partner, being in water, hypnobirthing techniques. And, of course, medical pain relief if you feel you need it.”

Lisa felt Carla’s thumb rub gently against the back of her hand. She turned and saw Carla watching her, eyes soft. It wasn’t just Hannah who needed to hear this.

The session shifted to birth plans - writing down preferences for labour, pain relief and who would be present. Tess handed out worksheets.

“Now, this plan may not be followed to the letter,” she warned. “Birth can be unpredictable, but having something written down helps your medical team to understand your wishes.”

Lisa stared at the sheet. Who will be present during birth? The question leapt out at her. Carla, obviously. The midwives. But then… Betsy’s face flashed in her mind.

Carla noticed her pause. “You’re thinking about Betsy, aren’t you?”

Lisa nodded. “I just… I don’t want her to feel left out if it's something she really wants.”

Tess then had each couple practice comfort techniques. Carla sat behind Lisa, supporting her back as Lisa leaned into her, practising her breathing while Tess played soft music.

“Partners,” Tess said, “your calm presence makes a world of difference. Words, touch, even just being there. You’re the anchor.”

Lisa closed her eyes, feeling Carla’s arms around her, the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breath. For the first time, she could imagine the birth not as something terrifying, but as something she and Carla could face together.

Carla took advantage of this position to whisper into Lisa's ear, “I love you, so much, and Betsy too, but all of this has to be about you. This is the most incredible, terrifying, miraculous thing you're ever going to do, Lise. It has to be about what you want - what you need - not anybody else. That's what's most important to me: for you to know that.”

She couldn't see Lisa's face, but the tension in her shoulders seemed to melt into Carla’s chest. 

By the time Tess handed out some printouts about things to pack in the hospital bag, Lisa looked a bit less haunted - a bit more like herself.

“I do feel better,” she said quietly to Carla as they packed up their notes. “Like... I can imagine it now. It’s not just a big terrifying blur anymore.”

Carla kissed her temple. “That’s the point. Bit by bit.”

----

After they'd arrived home and relieved Roy of his babysitting duties, the house was quiet. Betsy had gone to bed without much fuss, worn out from a day of school and teaching her favourite café owner how to make bracelets from hand-painted beads. Lisa and Carla lingered on the landing on their way to bed, pausing outside their daughter’s bedroom.

Carla nudged the door open slowly.

There she was - Betsy - tangled in her duvet and clutching her favourite cuddly dinosaur. She looked peaceful, her face softer in sleep, the corners of her mouth twitching faintly as though dreaming of something delicious.

Lisa stepped inside, barely making a sound, and stood by the bed. She brushed a curl back from Betsy’s forehead and then gently adjusted her bedding. “Look at her,” she whispered.

Carla stood in the doorway, her arms folded loosely. “I know.”

“She's not that little three-year-old anymore,” Lisa murmured. “When did that happen?”

Carla’s voice was low and warm. “Somewhere between scooter riding and spelling tests.”

Lisa looked up at her, eyes glassy. “It’s like… she grew up when we weren’t looking.”

Carla came to stand behind her wife, wrapping her arms around and settling her hands to rest on where the baby grew safely inside her.

“She's still ours. Just... taller.”

Lisa huffed a soft laugh. “And louder.”

“And braver,” Carla added. “And kinder. We helped her become those things.”

They stood there for a long time, just watching their girl sleep. It was quiet and warm and, at the same time, completely extraordinary.

Finally, Lisa whispered, “We’re so lucky, aren’t we?”

Carla pressed a kiss to her cheek. “The luckiest.”

Chapter Text

The room was cloaked in shadows; it was the kind of darkness that seemed heavier in the early hours of the morning. Carla woke suddenly, heart hammering, unsure at first what had disturbed her. The faint glow of the clock on Lisa’s side of the bed read 3:34am.

She reached instinctively for Lisa but her fingers brushed against cold sheets. Empty.

“Lisa?” Carla whispered into the quiet, her voice edged with sleep and unease.

No answer.

Carla’s stomach tightened. She pushed back the duvet and sat up, letting her eyes adjust. That’s when she saw her - Lisa - sitting on the end of the bed, her back to Carla, shoulders hunched and staring down at the carpet.

“Lise…? Babe, you okay?” Carla asked, more awake now that the hairs on her arms were prickling.

Lisa’s head tilted slightly, but she didn’t answer properly. Instead, a soft murmur left her lips - broken words strung together, low and indistinct.

Carla slid down the bed and placed a hand lightly on Lisa’s shoulder. She flinched. Not from fear, exactly, but as though she hadn’t realised anyone was there.

“Hey, it’s me,” Carla soothed, her voice steady despite the quick thudding of her heart. “You’re all right, darling. You’re safe.”

Lisa turned her head just enough for Carla to see her face. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, lost somewhere else entirely. Her lips moved again, whispering.

“Becky…”

Carla’s stomach dropped. She knew this look. She hadn’t seen it in almost two years, but she knew.

A fugue.

Her chest ached: a slow, twisting pressure. They’d thought - hoped - that this was over. That the memories had all settled back into place - that the missing pieces of Lisa’s life had slowly stitched back together.

Clearly, they hadn’t.

Carla took a slow breath and spoke gently, “You’re remembering her, aren’t you?”

No response. Lisa’s gaze drifted down to her hands, which were clasped loosely in her lap. She started murmuring again - fragments of sentences, half-formed thoughts. Carla caught bits and pieces. “…looks beautiful… baby… can’t believe…”

It wasn’t present day Lisa talking. It was Lisa from years ago, living through a moment buried so deeply that her mind had locked it away for fear of breaking.

Carla stayed close, trying to ground herself in the fact that she’d been through this before, that Lisa always came back, but that didn’t stop the fear from gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. What if one day she didn’t? What if this new life they’d become used to the comfort of was only one fugue away from being back in that place, with that Lisa. The one who'd tried so hard to hold on when her memories threatened to swallow her whole?

She pushed the thought aside and focused on keeping her voice soft, calm. “I’m here, love. Whatever it is - whatever you’re feeling - you’re safe. Just… let it come.”

Lisa’s breathing shifted, deepening, her body swaying slightly as if caught between two worlds. Carla wanted to hold her, to shake her out of it, but she knew better. These fugues had their own rules. The only thing she could do was wait, be present, be her anchor.

The room felt charged, heavy with a silence that was broken only by Lisa’s quiet murmurs. Carla glanced towards the window, the pale glow of the streetlamps casting a thin line of light across the floor. Time seemed suspended.

Then Lisa exhaled, a soft sound, and whispered more clearly, “She doesn’t think she’s beautiful anymore… but she is… she’s glowing.”

Carla’s throat tightened. She could guess which kind of memory was coming. Becky. Pregnant Becky. It made sense - Lisa was pregnant now and her brain must be making connections with the time in her life when it was her wife who had been.

Carla whispered, “Go on, Lise. Remember.”

Lisa didn’t respond in words this time. Instead, her expression softened, like a veil lifting. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came out. Just a small, almost wistful sigh, before her body stilled.

And then, like slipping beneath the surface of a still lake, she was gone from the present entirely.

Carla didn’t move: didn’t dare. She stayed close, one hand hovering just shy of Lisa’s back in a silent promise of safety, and waited for her to return.

----

The scent of washing powder and a coconut candle filled the air in the warmly lit bedroom of years ago. Lisa could hear the soft hum of the town outside the window, but it felt distant, unreal. All that existed was this room - and Becky.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing at her face with the back of one hand. Little flyaway hairs stuck out from her dark ponytail from the chaos of the day, but Lisa drank in exactly how she looked in that moment: tired and a bit vulnerable, her face softened by the golden glow of the lamp. Her belly - huge, pregnant, perfect - rose and fell as she breathed. The sight of it made Lisa’s chest squeeze.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Lisa whispered softly, as she stood in front of her wife. Her hands shook slightly as she reached forward to brush Becky’s hair away from her forehead. “I mean it.”

Becky scoffed, but there was a blush beneath her freckles. “I look like a beach ball with legs, Lisa.”

“You look like the woman who’s growing our little girl,” Lisa countered, leaning down to brush her fingers over the swell of Becky’s stomach. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are tonight.”

Becky’s eyes flickered up at her, clouded with insecurity. “I don’t feel beautiful,” she muttered, almost inaudibly. “I feel… enormous and… just… gross.”

Lisa’s heart clamped painfully in her chest. She’d never seen Becky like this before. The confident, brave, self-assured copper she knew and loved could hold a room with a glance; here she was, laying herself bare. Lisa felt an overwhelming need to hold her, to make her feel cherished, to remind her exactly how extraordinary she was.

She knelt down gently before her.

Becky tilted her head forwards against Lisa’s shoulder, eyes closing as Lisa placed the gentlest kiss on her neck.

Lisa reached for the hem of Becky’s pyjama top and hesitated, searching her wife’s eyes for permission. Becky nodded, and Lisa lifted the fabric, revealing the perfect curve of her bump.

Lisa’s breath caught. “God, Bex… you’re incredible.”

Becky’s hands hovered protectively over her belly. “D'you think so?”

“I know so.” Lisa leaned forward, pressing a kiss just above the navel. Then another. Then one lower, until she was speaking softly against Becky’s skin. “Hi, baby. It’s your mummy. I love you so much already. We can’t wait to show you the world.”

Becky’s eyes filled with tears. Lisa looked up at her and smiled, brushing her thumbs across her hips. “Do you feel her a lot now?”

“All the time,” Becky nodded. “She’s running out of space in there so it’s not kicks anymore, just… wriggling. It feels like… like having a little secret. Like she’s talking to me, but only I can hear her.”

They sat there in silence for a while; the baby’s small, almost imperceptible movements beneath Lisa’s hand felt like a heartbeat itself, fragile and yet strong. Lisa closed her eyes and took it all in - the warmth, the smell, the soft hum of life around them.

“You’re going to be such a good mum,” Lisa murmured again, pressing a final kiss to Becky’s taut skin.

Becky’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and she whispered, “Thank you… For everything.”

Lisa’s chest tightened, and she whispered back, “Always.”

----

Lisa blinked rapidly, disoriented, and slowly realised she was sitting in a similar spot but on the edge of a different bed, with Carla’s arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders and back. She tried to speak, to explain, but the words felt tangled in her throat.

Carla didn’t need an explanation. She just held her steadily, murmuring softly, “I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re safe, Lise. It’s okay.”

Tears leaked down Lisa’s cheeks, hot and unrelenting. She choked out a broken laugh, half relief, half grief. “It… it was… it was so beautiful… and I… I missed it…”

“You didn’t miss it forever,” Carla said gently, stroking her hair, brushing damp strands from her face. “You’ve got it now. You’ve remembered it - that’s all that matters.”

Lisa sniffled, leaning into Carla’s chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart. “It’s been so long,” she whispered. “I thought maybe… maybe it wouldn’t happen again.”

“I know,” Carla admitted, brushing a thumb across Lisa’s damp cheek. “I was scared when I saw you. But you came back, and now you’ve got another piece of her with you. A happy piece?”

Lisa nodded, swallowing hard. “She looked… she looked like she did just before Betsy came. So beautiful. So proud. And I… I told her how much I loved her. And I… I love you both - Betsy and you - and the baby, and…” Her voice trailed off as another wave of emotion hit.

Carla pressed a kiss to the top of Lisa’s head, her voice low and soothing. “I know, love. I know. I’m so proud of you. So proud of you for remembering, for feeling, for letting it all back in. You’re incredible - you always have been - and you are so loved, Lise. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Lisa’s arms tightened around Carla, the sobs slowing, the world righting itself around her. “I was terrified. I didn’t know what I’d see.”

“You’ve got it all back,” Carla whispered. “And you’ve got me… Betsy… this little one growing inside you. D'you remember what I promised you? When we got married I promised, every day, to show you how loved you are. Well, I’ll keep showing you. Forever.”

They stayed like that for hours, curled together on the bed. Eventually, their breathing evened out, the tears slowed, and the weight of the night shifted into something lighter. Safe. Loved. Held. Lisa could feel herself letting go, even if only slightly, of the fear that had been building for weeks. She had survived another memory; she had embraced it, and now with Carla and Betsy and the baby wriggling inside her she felt, for the first time in years, a sense of wholeness.

Chapter Text

Betsy was at a sleepover when Lisa floated the idea initially.

Carla sat with her legs tucked underneath her on the sofa with Lisa perched nearby, one hand resting on her bump and the other clasped around a mug of chamomile tea. 

Lisa shifted, taking a long sip from her mug. “I had a thought…” she said, her voice hesitant. Carla immediately turned to look at her, sensing the weight behind the words.

“I know,” Carla said gently. “I’ve seen that look before. That quiet, serious one - you’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Lisa nodded slowly. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, “about the birth. When you said what you said about it being about what I need.”

Carla turned to face her. “Go on.”

Lisa hesitated. “I’ve been wondering if… maybe I’d like to do it here. At home.”

Carla’s eyebrows shot up, and she put her own mug down on the coffee table with a soft clink. “A home birth?” she repeated, carefully, trying not to let her worry show. “Now? But you’re… eight months along?”

“I know,” Lisa said, her tone unusually calm. “I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t think it would be safe. Every checkup has shown nothing is complicated - the baby’s healthy, I’m healthy. I just… I think it would be better for me.”

Carla tilted her head, studying her wife. “Better… in what way?”

Lisa exhaled, running her hand over the tight skin of her bump, feeling the subtle movements beneath that made her smile despite her nerves. “I want it to feel like… like I’m in control. Like I can do it in a way that’s calm and safe and… just us. I keep picturing the hospital and… I don’t know. It just feels clinical and cold. The worst thing that's ever happened to me happened there. When I imagine being here, in our house, maybe even in water, with our things all around us… it doesn’t feel as scary.”

Carla was quiet for a moment. Not resisting - just taking it in. She nodded, a lump forming in her throat at the vulnerability in Lisa’s voice. “I get that. Really, I do. I just… I worry about what would happen if something went wrong.”

“I know,” Lisa said softly, leaning closer and resting her head on Carla’s shoulder. “I’ve thought about that too - a lot - but we wouldn’t be alone. We’d still have a midwife, someone professional who knows exactly what to do, and if anything happened and we needed to go to the hospital, we’d go. No risks. I promise.”

Carla breathed out, still anxious but willing to listen. “Okay… I hear you. So you’re thinking of having the baby in the bath?”

Lisa shook her head with a small smile. “I thought about the bath, but I think a pool in the living room would be better. There’s more room, I can move about, and… if Betsy does want to be there, really be there, then she’d have the space to come and go. You know, be part of it if she wants to or not if she doesn’t. We wouldn’t have to make a rigid decision ahead of time.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Carla murmured. Her hand found Lisa’s, rubbing circles over the curve of her belly. “I understand why you want it,” she said quietly. “It's just… it seems really late to be deciding all this.”

Lisa turned and kissed Carla’s forehead, letting her calm energy wash over her. “I know you’re scared,” she said. “I would be too if the roles were reversed, but it feels right for me. I think… I think this will help me feel calmer, stronger, more held. But I do want it to be safe, so if we speak to the midwife and she says it’s not a good idea, then we’ll go back to the hospital plan. I’m not doing anything reckless.” She took a deep breath. “Carla… All I know is that when I think about having the baby here, with you, in our home, this huge thing I’ve been frightened of for so long seems… not as scary.”

Carla hesitated, then nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You always plan everything so carefully. So, I guess… if the professionals agree, I should trust you. I meant what I said - what matters most to me is that you have what you need.”

Lisa smiled back, her hand curling over Carla’s. “I want to make sure it’s right for all of us. I don’t want you panicking while I’m in labour. I want us all to feel safe and supported.”

Carla leaned back slightly, thinking. “And if the midwife is worried about you or the baby at any point…”

Lisa twisted, taking Carla’s face gently in the palm of her hand. “Then we call for help and if we need to transfer to the hospital, that’s what we’ll do.”

Carla exhaled slowly, her hands covering Lisa’s. “Okay… okay. I get it, I do understand, Lise. I just… it’s a lot to get my head around, you know?”

“I know,” Lisa said softly. “This is new for both of us but I think… I think it could be amazing. It might help me, help us, feel more connected to the birth, instead of feeling like we’re just being swept along at the hospital.”

Carla’s voice softened. “You always do that - you think so carefully about everyone else, even when it should be about your own needs. I just want to be here for you. For both of you.”

Lisa smiled, leaning back against Carla. “I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you tonight. I wanted us to discuss it before we involve anyone else. No rush, no pressure, just… talk about it. We can make a decision together, and if anything changes, we’ll adapt. This isn’t set in stone, Carla. It’s just… what I’m feeling right now.”

Carla nodded slowly, absorbing Lisa’s words. “I trust you. I really do. And I think… I think you’re right.”

Lisa brushed her lips gently across Carla’s, a kiss full of reassurance and love. “That’s all I need, because the one thing I’m sure of is that I can’t do it without you.”

Chapter Text

The shop windows shimmered with orange lanterns and fluttering cobweb decorations and the air was crisp with that unmistakable scent of fallen leaves and freshly dampened earth. It was Halloween, and Carla and Lisa were putting the last few finishing touches to the nursery before they took Betsy trick-or-treating.

Carla was balanced on a little step stool in the corner, gently pressing the final star decals onto the pale sage walls as Lisa carefully folded tiny vests into the chest of drawers, her bump brushing against the edge of the wood every time she leaned forward.

“I still think we need to frame the bunny,” Carla said, glancing at the impossibly soft rabbit toy that had been with them since the very beginning - a quiet talisman of hope and love.

“We will,” Lisa said, smiling as she smoothed down a muslin. “I like that she’ll have something that’s been here since before we even knew her.”

From across the landing came a thundering stampede; the unmistakable sound of a seven-year-old in socks. Betsy burst into the nursery, ready to carry out her official ‘big sister inspection duties’.

“Is it ready?” she asked, eyes wide, taking in the newly hung mobile above the cot, the soft grey rug and the woven baskets of board books and blankets.

“Almost,” Carla said, stepping down and smoothing her hands down her leggings, “but it needs your seal of approval first.”

Betsy took her task very seriously, checking every drawer (even the ones she’d checked last week), sitting gently in the rocking chair and examining the rainbow bookshelf as if she’d designed it herself.

“This is my favourite,” Betsy declared, pulling out a book with a glittery unicorn on the front.

Lisa called gently from the rocking chair, where she’d settled herself for a rest, “How about you choose one and read it to the baby? You’ve got to get some practice in.”

Betsy’s face lit up.

She settled on a picture book about a bear and his bedtime, then settled onto the plush rug and opened the cover, scooting in close to Lisa’s feet.

“Here we go,” she said seriously, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she carefully sounded out the words. She sounded so proud, only pausing when she stumbled over a word and asking Lisa for help if she needed it. Her voice was uneven, sometimes whispery and sometimes too loud, but always full of affection.

Lisa couldn’t take her eyes off her. Her heart felt swollen - completely full.

Carla stood in the doorway, watching the two of them from the soft shadow of the landing. The baby kicked once, and Lisa’s hand instinctively moved to her bump.

“She’s listening,” Lisa whispered, her voice thick.

“Of course she is,” Carla said softly, joining her and kneeling beside the chair, one hand resting on Lisa’s leg. “She knows she’s already so loved by her big sister.”

Betsy finished the story with a triumphant “The End!” and turned to kiss the bump.

“Come on, baby,” she whispered, her breath warm and tickling on Lisa’s skin, “it’s time to get our costumes on!”

----

Lisa came down the stairs first, waddling carefully in her full pumpkin costume - the soft padded belly over her already rounded baby bump made her laugh every time she caught sight of herself in a mirror. “The most ridiculous costume I’ve ever worn,” she said, grinning as she held out her arms. “Too much?”

“Absolutely not,” Carla said from the hallway, adjusting the tall black hat on her head. “You’re the most gorgeous pumpkin in Weatherfield.” She was in full witch get-up, complete with sparkly spiderwebs on her sleeves and a broom she’d borrowed from Michelle.

“Carla Swain, you’re a changed woman. I never thought I’d see the day…” Lisa drawled, unable to hide the attraction she felt towards the woman who’d dress up just to make her daughter happy.

“Do I look scary or sparkly?” Betsy asked, bouncing into the room in a purple and black bat costume, wings flapping.

“Hmm,” Carla pondered, “A bit of both.” 

Betsy grinned.

“You look brilliant,” Lisa beamed, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Have you got your treat bucket?”

“Yep!” she cried, lifting her pumpkin shaped basket like a trophy.

Out on the street, their neighbourhood was buzzing with children in costumes and laughing parents trailing behind. Betsy dashed from house to house, always looking back to make sure Lisa hadn’t fallen too far behind. Every time she returned with another sweet tucked away in her bucket, she would check in with the baby too.

“This one’s for you,” she said, holding up a tiny chocolate, “but you’re not allowed it yet. Not until you have teeth and that’s ages.”

Lisa rubbed her bump, playing along. “She says she understands and she’ll wait.”

Carla wrapped an arm around Lisa’s shoulder as they strolled. “Honestly, this is better than any party I’ve ever been to.”

“Same,” Lisa said. “Though I might need a sit down soon.”

They took a brief rest on a neighbour’s front wall whilst Betsy chatted with some school friends across the green. The air was cool but not cold, and Lisa felt that golden kind of tired - the good kind. The happy kind.

“I love this,” she said softly.

Carla smiled at her. “Me too. All of it. You, her… this squirmy little pumpkin.” She rested a hand over Lisa’s tummy and gave it a gentle rub. “We make a good team, you know?”

Lisa leaned her head against Carla’s shoulder. “The best.”

They were interrupted by a sudden shriek of delight - Betsy running back towards them, wings flapping.

“Someone’s giving out giant chocolate bars!” she yelled. “Actual big ones - at number 87!”

“Well then,” Lisa said, easing herself up with Carla’s help, “we’d better go and get you in the queue before they run out.”

The three of them raced - or rather, two raced and one waddled determinedly - towards the house with the legendary sweets. They might’ve been witches and pumpkins and sparkly bats for the evening, but really they were just a family, glowing under the streetlights, wrapped in laughter and love.

Chapter Text

November arrived with its early dusks and misty mornings. The trees were almost bare now, their brittle leaves dancing across pavements in spirals.

Lisa came through the door one evening, cheeks pink from the cold, with a baguette under one arm and her work bag over the other. She called out a soft hello and dropped her things carefully in the hall before making her way into the kitchen, where Carla stood stirring a bubbling saucepan of butternut squash soup.

“Smells amazing,” Lisa said, kissing her on the cheek. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“It’s only from Sainsbury’s. You’re back late,” Carla said gently, catching Lisa’s eyes. “Everything okay?”

Lisa smiled and nodded, but Carla noticed the way she stretched out her lower back, subtly, like she was trying to hide it.

After Betsy was in bed and the dinner things were washed and put away, Carla found her stretched out on the sofa with her head raised up on the arm and a hand resting protectively over her bump as she stared up at the ceiling. Her face was soft, eyes a little glassy with tiredness.

Carla sat down and gently took Lisa’s feet into her lap.

“You’re doing too much,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You’ve been pretending your back's not sore for about two weeks now.”

Lisa tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

Carla arched an eyebrow. “Lisa, I know you, remember? I know that your hips ache and your ankles are swollen, and that your ribs must feel like they’re being bruised from the inside. You don’t have to be brave about it.”

“I’m not-” Lisa began, but then stopped. She looked down at her stomach, where a little ripple of movement had passed under her hand, and her face softened even more.

“I just don’t want to moan,” she admitted. “I love it, Carla - every part of it. I love that I get to feel her moving. I love knowing that I’m keeping her safe in here. I love waking up in the middle of the night because she’s stretching out her tiny body, even if it hurts. I never thought I’d get to do this and I don’t want to forget any of it. Not a single kick or cramp or stretch mark. So I don’t want to complain; I want to remember.”

Carla was quiet for a moment. She blinked quickly.

“God, Lisa,” she whispered. “Every time I think I couldn’t possibly love you any more…”

Lisa turned towards her with shining eyes. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice much quieter now, like they’d stepped into a private little space between the seconds. “About finishing work a bit earlier. I know we said I’d stay another couple of weeks, but… I think I want to be around. For Betsy. For her. For you. For me, too. I want to enjoy the last few weeks. Be present, you know? Not let it pass me by.”

Carla leaned in and rested her forehead gently against Lisa’s. “Then that’s what you’ll do. Tell Costello tomorrow. We’ll figure it all out. I’ll pick up anything that needs doing. You’ve done more than enough.”

Lisa smiled a tired, grateful smile that reached all the way through her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” Carla asked.

“Knowing how to look after me even when I don’t ask.”

Carla kissed her, then pulled a blanket up over them both and let Lisa rest against her as the baby shifted quietly between them.

----

By the fourth day of Lisa’s maternity leave, she already felt like a different person. Not in a big, loud, dramatic way but in the quiet, still sense of settling into her body, her home and her new role. The house smelled of detergent and warm towels; multiple airers were strung with rows of impossibly tiny baby clothes in soft pastels, white onesies and the odd splash of yellow and green. She’d spent the morning sorting them all into drawers by size, lovingly folding each item neatly into rows.

By three o’clock, she was standing outside the school gates with her hand cradling the heavy roundness of her bump and a scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. When Betsy came bursting out of the doors and saw her waiting, her face lit up as if she hadn’t seen her in weeks.

“Mummy!” Betsy squealed as she ran into her arms; Lisa caught her and squeezed tightly. “I missed you,” she said breathlessly.

“I missed you more,” Lisa grinned.

The walk home was full of chatter - what Betsy'd eaten at lunch, how Milly had fallen off the climbing frame and cried (but not that much) and how she’d been moved up a reading group. Lisa listened, holding her little girl's hand, her heart thudding steadily above the constant flutter of the baby inside her.

When they got home, Betsy kicked off her shoes and ran upstairs only to stop short at the sight of the nursery door ajar and the smell of fresh fabric softener wafting out.

Inside, folded clothes were stacked neatly on the changing table. Tiny baby socks were paired and placed like treasures in a basket. A new fitted sheet decorated with tiny bears had been stretched over the mattress in the cot.

“Woah,” Betsy breathed. “Did you do all this today?”

“Mmhmm,” Lisa nodded, joining her in the doorway. “I thought it was time to start getting everything really ready for when she joins us.”

Betsy walked over and touched one of the folded sleepsuits. “She’s really coming soon, isn’t she?”

Lisa nodded again, more softly this time. “Yeah. Any time from now, really.”

Betsy sat down on the soft rug, quiet for a moment, which was rare. Lisa lowered herself into the rocking chair, rubbing her bump absentmindedly. She could feel something different in the air: not tension exactly, but uncertainty.

“I like you picking me up from school,” Betsy said suddenly.

“Me too.”

“When do you have to go back to work?”

Lisa smiled, touched by her honesty. “Oh not for a long time. I might stay off for a whole year after the baby comes.”

Betsy’s face lit up.

“Really?”

“Really,” Lisa nodded. “I want to be here. For the baby, and for you.”

Betsy was quiet again.

“Will everything change?” she asked softly.

Lisa tilted her head. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I mean... when the baby comes. Will everything be different? Will you and Mum still have time to play with me?”

Lisa took a breath and leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees. “That’s a very important question and I’m really glad you asked.”

She looked deeply into her daughter’s eyes.

“Some things will change. That’s true. We’re going to have a tiny little person in the house who needs a lot of help at the start. I might be a bit tired and things might be louder or messier sometimes but the most important things - the really important ones - they won’t change at all.”

“Like what?” Betsy asked.

“Like how much I love you,” Lisa said, “and how much your mum loves you. That won’t ever change, no matter what. You were ours first. You’ll always be our big girl. Even with another one coming, there’s more than enough love to go around.”

Betsy was chewing her lip thoughtfully. “But what if you don’t have time to cuddle me anymore?”

Lisa reached for her and the little girl climbed carefully into her arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Then you climb right up here and remind me,” Lisa whispered. “You’ll never have to stop needing me, okay? Even though you're seven and grown up and learning big words at school. You mean everything to me, monkey.”

Betsy tucked her face into Lisa’s shoulder and murmured, “I’m glad you’re my mummy. And the baby’s too.”

Lisa swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Chapter Text

Like most Saturdays in their house, the morning began with the sound of bare feet thudding across the landing and the door to the bedroom flying open.

“Mum! Mummy!” Betsy launched herself onto the bed, her hair wild and eyes shining. “Can we go swimming today? Pleeeeeeease?”

Lisa groaned softly as she turned over. “Is it even light outside yet?” she murmured.

“It is!” Betsy said, tugging on the duvet. “It’s nearly breakfast time!”

Carla blinked sleepily and ruffled Betsy’s hair. “Swimming, eh? That sounds like a good idea to me.”

Lisa smiled at the excitement lighting up both their faces, but she hesitated. “Maybe your mum can take you into the water while I watch from the café window.”

The reaction was immediate. Betsy’s face dropped. “But... we want you to come in too. You love swimming,” she pouted.

“I do love it,” Lisa said softly, sitting up a bit and smoothing a hand over Betsy’s back. “But I think I might be more comfortable watching today. I’ll be able to see you through the glass and cheer you on. I’ll still be right there.”

The little girl looked disappointed but Carla stepped in gently. “Hey, you. Your mummy’s been carrying your baby sister around with her for a long time now. That’s kind of a full-time job, isn’t it?”

Betsy gave a little nod, reluctant but understanding.

“And we'll have fun in the water just the two of us,” Carla added. “We can splash around and you can show me your new underwater tricks; I bet Mummy will love watching from the warm café with a hot chocolate.”

“Will you wave?” Betsy asked, resting her chin on Lisa’s bump.

“I’ll wave lots,” Lisa promised, kissing her forehead.

With that, she climbed off the bed and scampered downstairs in search of cereal, her earlier excitement slowly returning.

Carla turned on her side and looked at Lisa more closely. “Okay,” she said gently. “What’s this really about?”

Lisa hesitated, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I just... I don’t know. I do love swimming. I know it’d help with the aches. I know I’d feel lighter in the water.”

“So…?” Carla’s tone was soft, curious but not pushy.

Lisa turned to face her. “It’s not about the swimming part. It’s about the swimming costume part.”

Carla stayed quiet, letting her speak.

“I love what my body is doing,” Lisa went on, eyes shining with something deep and complicated. “I really do. I love the shape of it. I love that you worship it every day like it’s sacred, even when I feel like a bloated seal. I love how Betsy touches my bump like it’s the most magical thing in the world. And it is magical.”

She paused, then admitted, “But walking into a public place in my swimming costume, with all of this on display - all the curves, the stretch marks, the wobbles - it just feels... different now. Vulnerable. I don’t want to feel watched.”

Carla reached out and took her hand. “I get it. You don’t owe anyone your comfort. And you don’t have to explain yourself. You’re doing something extraordinary, Lisa. If you’d rather sip tea and smile at us from the other side of a café window, that’s more than enough.”

Lisa looked down, overwhelmed by the quiet, unwavering support in Carla’s voice. “Thanks for not making me feel silly.”

“Silly?” Carla leaned in and kissed her gently. “You’re anything but. But... when we get back from the pool, how about I give you a massage? Something slow and lovely. Help those tired muscles out in private. No cossie necessary.”

Lisa grinned. “You always have the best ideas.”

Carla smirked. “I’m just in it for the excuse to get my hands on you.”

Lisa laughed, leaning into her kiss. “I love you.”

“Back at you.”

Downstairs, a crash and a burst of giggling signaled that breakfast preparation had likely turned into cereal chaos.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Shall we go and rescue the kitchen?”

Carla stretched and got out of bed. “Let’s. Then we’ll pack the swimming bag - you, me, our little nutter and the baby girl who’s already got us wrapped around her tiny finger.”

Lisa smiled and watched Carla move around the room, her heart full. She didn’t need to be in a pool to feel lighter - she felt it from love, from understanding and from the quiet kind of strength they gave each other every day.

----

That night, Lisa wrote another entry in the journal Carla had given her. It had become part of her routine, part of her journey and the words were beginning to come more naturally now than they had at first.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write tonight, but the day has left me full of thoughts.

Watching Carla and Betsy swim without me this morning was harder than I expected. Normally, I love the water. Normally, I’d be right there with them but something about the idea of putting on my swimming costume and walking through the crowded changing rooms just didn’t feel right. I’m proud of what my body is doing, of the fact that I’m growing our little girl, but there’s still a part of me that feels… self-conscious.

Betsy doesn’t see it that way, of course. She called me a superhero this morning - said my body is changing because it’s strong enough to grow her little sister. Leave it to a seven-year-old to put things so simply. So beautifully. She and Carla are my biggest cheerleaders - they remind me of who I am on the days I feel uncertain and I love them both more than I can put into words for that.

The baby could come at any time now. It’s a thought that both excites and unnerves me. I don’t know what labour will feel like or how much of it I’ll be able to handle before my fear tries to creep in. But I know this: I am ready. Ready to meet her, to see her face, to feel her in my arms instead of just under my ribs.

There’s a calmness in me tonight that I haven’t felt in weeks. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to trust myself more, to believe that I can do this. Or maybe it’s because I’ve got Carla by my side, steady and strong, holding all the pieces of me together. Whatever it is, I’m so very grateful.

Chapter Text

Lisa stood barefoot in the kitchen, music humming softly in the background and the sleeves of her jumper pushed up to her elbows. She stirred a rich sauce on the hob, taking a moment to savour the smell before moving on to the next task.

She’d planned this day carefully, taken her time with every little detail. Betsy was at school, the house was tidy and Carla was busy at work, none the wiser.

Today wasn’t a birthday or an official anniversary, but it marked four years since Lisa had quietly realised she was in love with Carla and, as the last few weeks of pregnancy began to weigh more heavily on her body, she felt the need to pause - to make space for a moment of gratitude. Of love. Just the two of them.

She set the table with care: candles in glass holders, folded napkins, Carla’s wine glass ready to be filled with her favourite red and a plate already waiting to be served with the meal she’d worked on all afternoon. A playlist of their favourite songs played softly through the speaker on the windowsill.

By the time Carla walked in with Betsy later that afternoon, Lisa greeted them with a kiss each and a knowing smile.

“What’s all this?” Carla asked, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the flicker of candles and the smells coming from the kitchen.

Lisa grinned. “This is a surprise. But not yet.”

After tea, bathtime and a bedtime story, Betsy was tucked up and fast asleep. Carla made her way downstairs to find the house transformed. The lights were dimmed, music played low and Lisa - glowing in a deep green satin shirt that clung softly over her bump - waited with two plates in her hands.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she said, gesturing for Carla to sit down.

Carla blinked, caught off guard. “For what?”

“For four years of loving me better than I thought I could ever be loved again,” Lisa said simply. “For picking up every piece of me I dropped when I didn’t know how to carry them all. For never making me feel like I was too much or not enough. And for taking care of me and Betsy, every single day - especially now.” She gestured to the expanding curve of her stomach. 

Carla sat, speechless, and Lisa placed the plate in front of her: slow-cooked lamb, her favourite, with roasted vegetables and a creamy potato gratin. “You did all this?” Carla finally managed.

Lisa nodded, cheeks pink. “I wanted to. I’ve felt so loved by you through all of this - I just wanted you to feel that too.”

They ate slowly, laughing softly, talking in the way they only did when it was just them. No school runs, no work emails, no “Mummy, can I have a snack?” Just them, side by side, hand occasionally reaching out to touch hand.

When the plates were cleared and a calm had settled softly in the living room, Carla pulled Lisa gently down onto the sofa beside her. Her hand rested on the bump, fingers tracing slow circles.

“I’ve been thinking,” Carla said quietly, “about how much our lives are going to change. Again.”

Lisa leaned her head on Carla’s shoulder. “I know.”

“But I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

Lisa smiled. “I never thought I’d have a second chance at everything. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall in love again, never mind being pregnant and sharing a life with someone who sees me so completely.”

Carla kissed the top of her head. “Everything's going to be okay.”

“I know,” Lisa whispered. “It already is.”

----

The next day, which happened to be the first day of December, brought a soft drizzle against the windows and a large, surprisingly heavy cardboard box sitting in the hallway.

Carla had barely stepped inside with it before Betsy was all over her, full of questions.

“What is it? Is it for the baby?”
“Is it a bed? Or a big toy?”
“Can we open it? Can I help?”

Lisa chuckled from her seat on the sofa. “Give your mum a second to catch her breath, Bets!”

Carla ceremoniously put the box down in the middle of the living room with a soft huff. “It’s the birthing pool,” she announced with a smile.

Betsy blinked. “What’s a birthing pool?” she asked, curiosity lighting her eyes.

“Well,” Carla said, kneeling beside the box and glancing at Lisa for support, “remember when we talked about how the baby might be born at home instead of at the hospital?”

Betsy nodded, settling herself cross-legged on the rug next to her.

“This pool is something we’ll fill with warm water when the baby starts to come,” Lisa explained gently. “It'll help my body feel more relaxed. Being in water can make things a bit easier when I’m trying to help your sister be born.”

Betsy’s eyes widened. “Is she going to swim out?”

Carla bit back a smile. “Not exactly, darling. But being in the water will help Mummy feel more comfortable. Some people say it’s like being wrapped up in a warm hug while they do a really big job.”

Betsy looked at the box again, skeptical. “But it’s huge. Is it going to stay here forever?”

“Nope,” Carla said, opening the flaps and pulling out the folded blue material. “We’ll only set it up once the baby’s ready to come but we wanted to practice today so we know how it works.”

Lisa shifted slightly and patted the sofa beside her, inviting their daughter to sit with her. “We want you to know what to expect. If everything goes to plan, I’ll be right here in this room and you’ll be able to see and hear what’s happening.”

“Can I watch?” Betsy asked, her voice a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

Carla paused, meeting Lisa’s eyes. Then she sat back on her heels and said carefully, “If you want to be there, you absolutely can. But we want you to remember something really important.”

Lisa nodded. “When the baby starts to come, things might feel too loud or strange or even a bit scary. I might make noises or I might not be able to talk much. There’ll be a midwife here, helping us and if at any point you feel unsure or uncomfortable, you can leave the room. You can go to your bedroom or play in the kitchen, or just come back later if you want to.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re not brave,” Carla added. “It just means you’re listening to how you feel and that’s always okay.”

Betsy nodded, but her brow was furrowed..

“Will it hurt?” she asked suddenly, looking at Lisa.

Lisa smiled softly. “Yes. But it’s a good kind of pain - it means she’s getting ready to come into the world. I’ll be okay. And I’ll have your mum and the midwife and maybe even you here with me. We’re all going to help each other.”

“Even me?” Betsy said, eyes lighting up.

“Absolutely,” Carla said, giving her a wink, “if you still want to.”

They spent the rest of the morning inflating the pool - which was, indeed, enormous once fully upright - and giggling as Carla tried to clamber into it, pretending to float. Betsy spent the morning pretending it was a spaceship, a pirate ship and finally, a mermaid lagoon.

Later that afternoon, when the pool was deflated and tucked neatly back in its box, the three of them curled up on the couch under one big blanket. Betsy rested her head on Lisa’s bump and whispered, “We’re ready for you, baby.”

Lisa met Carla’s eyes over the girls’ heads, her hand resting over Betsy’s. “So are we.”

Chapter Text

The house smelled of cinnamon and vanilla; Carla had lit one of the festive candles Lisa loved before heading into the kitchen to start on tea.

Betsy was sitting at the table with a sheet of cream paper spread out before her and the tip of her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated on her handwriting. Her glitter pen squeaked softly across the page, forming the first line in her best attempt at cursive:

Dear Father Christmas

Carla leaned against the counter, wooden spoon in hand, glancing over at her with a fond smile. “You writing your letter, then?”

Betsy nodded, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Yep, but I’m trying to remember how to spell Nintendo and it’s really hard.”

Carla grinned. “Sound it out, trouble. N-I-N-T-E-N-D-O. There you go. Easy peasy.”

“Thanks,” Betsy murmured, carefully copying the letters, then drawing a little star next to it for good measure.

Lisa had excused herself for a nap an hour ago, exhaustion pulling her under with a heaviness she couldn’t fight. With the baby so nearly due, sleep came in fits and starts, but Carla had urged her to take what rest she could.

“Mum?” Betsy asked suddenly, pausing her list.

“Mm?”

“Mummy’s so tired isn’t she? It feels like she’s always resting.”

Carla put the spoon down and walked over, crouching beside her chair. “She’s getting near the end now and that means she’s extra tired. It takes a lot of energy growing a baby - imagine running round the track on your school field ten times, but doing it every single day. Holding a bowling ball. That’s what it’s like for her at the moment.”

Betsy’s eyes widened. “Every day?”

“Every day,” Carla confirmed, brushing her hand lightly over Betsy’s hair. “But she’s okay. She’s just saving up as much of her energy as she can for when the baby comes.”

Betsy tapped her pen against her chin. “She’s coming really soon isn’t she?”

“Yes, lovey. Could be any day now. She’s nearly ready to meet us.”

Betsy smiled softly, a small flicker of nervous excitement playing on her face. “I can’t wait.” Then she paused. “But I don’t want Mummy to have to feel all that pain.”

Carla’s heart ached. “I know how you feel. It is going to be painful for her,” she admitted, “but it won’t be hurting all the time - she’ll have little breaks - and when it’s over, she’ll be holding your little sister and it’ll all be worth it.”

Betsy seemed to think about that for a long time before returning to her letter and carefully adding another few lines to her list.

----

By the time tea was ready - pasta bake with melted cheese bubbling golden on top - Lisa had woken up from her nap and waddled downstairs. Her hair was slightly mussed, eyes heavy but softened with a smile.

“Smells good,” she murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Carla’s cheek as she joined them at the table.

Betsy chatted away as they ate, telling them about her list but keeping most of the details secret, in case it spoiled the secret and Father Christmas decided not to get what she’d asked for. Lisa caught the flicker of a shy smile as she mentioned Santa and her “biggest Christmas wish” and it stayed with her long after tea was finished.

As Betsy skipped upstairs to get into her pyjamas so they could snuggle down together to watch a Christmas film, Lisa began to clear up. She found the letter still lying there, slightly crumpled where Betsy had leaned her arm over it.

She hesitated. She knew it wasn’t really fair to read it when Betsy could come down the stairs and see her; usually Lisa and Carla sat together when she was deeply asleep and chuckled at the things she’d written, making notes and ordering things online before they took Betsy to post her letter to the North Pole. But something about that smile, something about the tenderness in Betsy’s voice, pulled her in.

She picked up the letter, unfolded it and began to read.

The first half was what she expected: requests for games, books and a sparkly dress she’d seen whilst shopping for new school uniform with Carla. Further down, scrawled in slightly wobbly handwriting, were the words that made Lisa’s throat tighten:

But my biggest Christmas wish isn’t a present. It’s that my baby sister is born safely and my mummy is OK. I don’t mind if I don’t get everything else, but please can you make sure they’re alright?

I hope you have a merry Christmas.

Love from Betsy Swain xxxxxx

Lisa’s eyes stung. She turned, the letter trembling slightly in her hands, and called softly towards the sink. “Carla. Come here a sec.”

Carla wiped her hands on a tea towel and walked over. “What’s up?”

Lisa held the letter out, her voice thick. “Have you seen this?”

Carla took it, reading quickly, her lips parting as her eyes softened. She let out a quiet, unsteady laugh and pressed her hand briefly to her mouth. “Oh, Lise…”

“I know.” Lisa blinked hard, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “She doesn’t even care about the presents. She just… she just wants us to be okay.”

Carla looked up at her then, eyes glistening. “We must be doing something right, eh?”

Lisa nodded, emotion spilling warm through her chest. “She’s amazing.”

Carla slid an arm around her, holding her close for a long moment as they stood by the table, staring down at Betsy’s wish. Neither of them spoke, but both knew what the other was thinking: that no matter how uncertain or overwhelming things sometimes felt, their daughter would always find a way to show them things would be just fine.

----

When Betsy bounded back downstairs in her Christmas pyjamas, Lisa was quick to tuck the letter back where it had been, smoothing it out carefully.

“What’re we watching?” Betsy asked, hopping onto the sofa.

“Your choice,” Lisa said, sinking into the cushions beside her.

They settled on The Polar Express, wrapping themselves in blankets as the opening notes of the soundtrack filled the room. But for all the magic on screen, Lisa’s attention drifted, more than once, to the quiet warmth of her family: Betsy curled up against Carla and Carla’s hand resting protectively on her bump.

Chapter Text

In the corner of the living room, the Christmas tree lights blinked lazily in hues of gold and red. Wrapping paper littered the coffee table in cheerful disarray, half covered by ribbons and sticky tape. Lisa sat awkwardly on the sofa, her phone balanced in her palm, thumb swiping across the screen with mounting frustration.

“Come on, you stupid thing…” she muttered, tapping at the unresponsive page again. Still nothing.

Carla glanced up from the table where she’d been hunched over her laptop for most of the afternoon, working on a few end of year reports for the factory. Her tea had gone lukewarm, forgotten, as she typed. “What’s up, babe?”

Lisa let out a sharp sigh, putting the phone aside with exaggerated care, as though restraining herself from throwing it across the room. “It’s having a strop. I’m trying to order a Christmas present for Betsy before it goes out of stock and it’s completely frozen on me.”

Carla tipped her head towards the laptop she’d pushed aside to look at some paperwork, a faint smile softening her features. “Use that. It’s ready - just don’t accidentally delete any of the spreadsheets I’ve got open or the accountants will kill me.”

Lisa gave her a playful grin and pushed herself up off the sofa, rubbing at the small of her back. Now in the last few weeks of her pregnancy, even small movements were starting to feel like major feats. “Cheers, darling. I’ll be quick.”

Sliding into the chair across from Carla, Lisa brought the laptop closer. When she clicked on the browser to search for Amazon, rows of tabs lined the top of the screen, so tightly packed that their titles were barely legible.

Lisa hovered the cursor, meaning to open a new tab immediately, but one of the titles appeared in full and caught her eye: “How to support your partner through labour: practical and emotional tips.”

She hesitated. Curiosity prickled at her, pulling her closer before she could stop herself.

One click.

The page was detailed, almost overwhelming: step-by-step advice on massage techniques for during contractions, encouraging words to use when exhaustion hit and signs to watch out for in case something wasn’t right. Lisa scrolled slowly, the words blurring slightly as her chest tightened.

Carla had been reading this for her.

Lisa looked up to the ribbon at the top of the screen, eyes flicking to the next tab. “Newborn safety: how to hold and soothe your baby.”

Another. “Helping your baby sleep safely through the night” and another: “Bonding with your newborn: skin-to-skin and first moments together.”

Lisa’s throat felt tight now, her hand pausing over the mouse. Every single tab was about the baby. Every single one had been carefully researched.

Carla was nervous. Nervous and trying to learn everything she could.

Lisa stared at the screen for a long time, a bittersweet ache pressing behind her ribs. She quickly opened a new tab and completed the Amazon order, although her thoughts were miles away. Then she closed the laptop carefully, making sure not to disturb the browser arrangement, and returned to the sofa.

But the image of those tabs lingered, tugging gently at her heart.

----

It wasn’t until the evening, when Betsy was in bed and the house was finally still, that Lisa found her moment.

Carla was curled up on the sofa, long legs tucked beneath her, her focus half on the glowing TV screen and half on her cup of tea. Lisa joined her, draping a blanket around her own shoulders, and sitting close enough for their arms to touch.

For a minute, she didn’t say anything, just listened to the soft drone of the telly. 

Then, gently, she said, “Carla… I saw your browser earlier.”

Carla’s head turned towards her, brows knitting. “My what?”

“Your browser,” Lisa repeated softly. “All those tabs. The ones about labour, about newborn care...”

Carla froze, colour rising faintly in her cheeks. She gave a small shrug, looking away and pretending to fuss with the blanket. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I… I’ve just been looking a few things up.”

Lisa tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t have to hide that from me, you know.”

“I wasn’t hiding it,” Carla muttered, though her protest lacked conviction. “I just… didn’t want to make a big deal of it.”

Lisa reached for her hand. “Carla. Talk to me.”

Carla hesitated, her gaze darting anywhere but Lisa’s face before finally settling back on her. When she spoke, her voice was low, almost uncertain. “I’m just a bit nervous, Lise.”

Lisa’s chest ached at the vulnerability in that single sentence. She tightened her grip on Carla’s hand. “About what?”

“About not knowing what to do,” Carla admitted. “Of getting it wrong. I’ve never done this before, have I? And I didn’t exactly have a shining example growing up. Now suddenly, I’m about to have a tiny baby relying on me for everything, and I just… I want to get it right. For her.”

Lisa felt her throat tighten as she listened, her heart aching with equal parts love and guilt. “Carla… you’re going to be amazing with her.”

Carla shook her head slightly. “You don’t know that, Lise. I want that to be true - I really do - that’s why I’ve been doing all this research. I’ve been reading about holding her properly, supporting her neck, watching for signs of breathing trouble, making sure she’s safe when she’s asleep. I just… I don’t want you to feel like you can’t lean on me. I don’t want to look like I don’t know what I’m doing when you need me to be steady.”

“Darling, don’t forget I’ve never done this before either. We’re both going to be learning as we go.”

Carla nodded. “I just think that maybe, because you’re the one who has her growing inside you - because you’ve got this strong connection to her already - it’s all going to come more naturally for you. Like you’ll just… know.”

Lisa shuffled closer until her head lay against Carla’s shoulder. “D’you know what I’ve realised today? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own worries, about the birth and about being ready, that I haven’t stopped to think about how all of this feels for you.”

Carla let out a soft laugh and sighed. “You’re the one carrying her, love. You’re allowed to be nervous.”

“You always say that like it minimises your own feelings.” Lisa drew back slightly to look her in the eye. “We’re having a baby, Carla. It’s amazing and exciting and extraordinary but it’s also scary. I love that you’ve been researching and learning and doing what you need to do to feel like you can trust yourself but I need you to know that I trust you more than anyone. I know you’re going to be amazing. Not because of what some article says, but because I know you. I see you with Betsy.”

Carla gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “You didn’t see me at three in the morning last week, sat here scrolling through forums about how to burp a baby properly.”

Lisa smiled, leaning her forehead briefly against Carla’s. “That’s exactly why you’ll be brilliant. Because you care enough to worry.”

Chapter Text

“Hot chocolate or peppermint tea?” Carla called brightly from the kitchen, already in that focused Christmassy mood she slipped into whenever there were lists to tick off and festive songs humming from the radio.

“Tea, please,” Lisa said, easing herself into the corner of the sofa, “and can you bring in the address list please? I promised Bets we’d do cards after breakfast.”

Carla appeared with a tray: Lisa’s steaming tea, a mug of hot chocolate crowned with marshmallows for Betsy and a coffee for herself. She put it down on the low table and, with a conspiratorial little flourish, produced a plate of cinnamon rolls she’d smuggled home yesterday from Roy’s.

Betsy inhaled sharply. “Roy made those?”

“He did,” Carla said, perching on the arm of the sofa to kiss her daughter’s temple, “and he told me to be very careful not to burn them when I warmed them up.”

“You can’t burn something that’s already cooked,” Betsy said through a marshmallow moustache.

“You’d be surprised what I can achieve,” Carla deadpanned, earning a snort from Lisa that became a gentle sigh as a tightness pulled low across her stomach - not a pain, exactly. More a firming and drawing in that made her hand fly there anyway.

Carla’s eyes flicked down, quick as ever. “Another one?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Lisa murmured, breathing in through her nose. “Just a little one.”

Betsy’s head popped up. “Are these still the rehearsal ones? The practices?”

“Braxton Hicks, yeah,” Lisa said, when the squeeze eased. “My body’s just… teaching itself what to do. It’s okay.”

Betsy nodded seriously and wriggled closer, slotting herself between Lisa’s knees. “If it happens again I could hold your hand?” she offered, voice small but purposeful.

Carla rested a palm on Lisa’s knee, her thumb drawing light circles there. “That’s very thoughtful, lovey.”

They ate and sipped and wrote. Lisa addressed the cards while Betsy dictated what should go inside each one and drew a small picture in the space on the left: Roy’s got an elaborate drawing of a cake; Michelle’s featured a stick-figure trio labelled “Us” with a stick baby inside the curve she’d drawn for Lisa’s bump and exaggerated eyelashes on Carla. Every so often, another tightening would roll through Lisa’s middle, the sort that made her breathe a fraction deeper and close her eyes for a few seconds. Each time, Betsy’s little hand was ready. Each time, Carla’s gaze flicked to Lisa, scanning, absorbing, softening when she saw the calm come back.

“All right, recruits,” Carla said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. “Phase two of Operation Christmas: wrapping.”

Betsy whooped, leaping to her feet. “I want to wrap Isla's presents in the shiny paper in case it runs out!”

“We have eight rolls that are shiny,” Lisa said, amused.

“Then we need to use all of them.”

The wrapping started as a dignified affair and ended like a comedy. Carla measured with a seriousness she usually only used when lining up fabric at the factory, Betsy tore tape with her teeth and managed to fuse two rolls of paper together and Lisa attempted to keep corners crisp with a bump that had its own opinions about how close she could actually get to the table. At some point, the roll of tape migrated to Carla’s wrist like a bracelet before she gestured for Betsy to pass her a spool of ribbon and it flew off, landing amongst the branches of the Christmas tree. Lisa wheezed, laughing so hard that Carla had to help her up so she could make it to the toilet in time.

They wrapped until the floor disappeared. They labelled and stacked. Naturally, they fell into a little production line: Carla curled ribbon with a satisfying squeal, Lisa applied the labels and Betsy stuck festive stickers wherever they’d fit. 

“Still okay?” Carla asked softly, close enough that her breath warmed Lisa’s cheek.

“Still okay,” Lisa murmured. “Honestly… they’re reassuring, in a funny way. Like she’s practising. I can almost picture her doing tiny warm-ups in there.”

Carla slid her arms around Lisa from behind then with her legs stretched out either side of her, chin on her shoulder, the two of them close enough to be one figure in the reflection of the window. “You look beautiful,” she said quietly, the words landing in Lisa’s chest the way they always did: with weight and steadiness and warmth.

----

After cheese toasties and clementines at the table, Carla declared a compulsory hour of rest on the sofa. “Film time. Your pick, kiddo.”

“Muppets Christmas Carol!” Betsy yelled, punching the air.

“Should’ve put money on that,” Lisa said, easing herself down with care. She curled onto her left side; Carla tucked a cushion behind her back and another between her knees and Betsy threw herself across both of them like a kitten, providing a line-by-line commentary of the opening song.

As the film went on, Betsy’s chattering grew sleepier until she laughed out loud when Gonzo fell off something. Lisa dozed for a few minutes at a time, held between Carla’s warm body and the heavy, comforting curl of her daughter’s legs thrown over her shins.

They roused themselves for an afternoon of crafts. This time: making cards for the neighbours. Betsy insisted on potato stamps - Carla rolled her eyes but went to fetch the potatoes anyway.

“Don’t cut yourself,” Betsy warned as Carla carved a Christmas tree shape into the potato half.

“I’ve had a lifetime’s training handling sharp objects,” Carla said. “Scissors, sarcasm...”

“Sarcasm isn’t a sharp object,” Betsy said, dipping a stamp into green paint and slapping it enthusiastically onto a card.

“It can be,” Lisa murmured wryly.

Another tightening came, then another. They weren’t frequent or organised, just little waves. 

By the time they’d turned the kitchen back into something that didn’t look like the aftermath of a paint bomb, it was getting dark. 

“Right,” Carla said, consulting the clock on the oven. “If we’re going to be eating by six, I’d better get on.”

----

After tea, Lisa waddled over to the sofa while Carla and Betsy handled the plates in a slightly chaotic duet that ended with a tea towel flicking competition.

“Bath or no bath?” Carla asked, turning back to Lisa.

“No bath for me,” Lisa said. “But you two go. I’ll put my feet up and get ready for another Christmas film.”

Betsy squealed. “Can I use the bath bomb that makes the water pink?”

“I don’t know… it took me weeks to scrub the colour out of the grout last time,” Carla said, already ushering her upstairs.

Lisa stretched out along the sofa, knees propped up, and let the house talk to her: the burble of running water upstairs, Betsy’s delighted squeak as the bath bomb fizzed, Carla’s fond scolding about splashing water everywhere. She rested both hands over the baby and whispered, “We’re all ready for you, little one. No rush. But… I think you might be too.”

She felt the bump shift under her palms, a roll and a flick that made her gasp. “Hello,” she murmured. The baby’s heel (she imagined) pressed insistently under her skin and then slid away.

When Carla and Betsy reappeared, Betsy glowing and damp-haired, they found Lisa composing herself.

“You alright?” Carla said, instantly smaller, instantly beside her.

“Fine,” Lisa said, taking Carla’s hand and pressing it to the warm curve. “Just… she’s saying hello.”

Carla’s face did that thing Lisa loved so much - opened, softened, lost its edges. “Hey there, tiny girl,” she whispered to the bump, closing her eyes for a second like she could see through skin and muscle and time.

Betsy made it almost to the end of the film before her blinks grew longer. Lisa turned her head to find Carla looking back at her over the top of their daughter’s sleeping head, eyes bright, mouth curved with a private softness that made Lisa’s chest ache.

“Hi,” Carla mouthed.

“Hi,” Lisa mouthed back.

They lay there for a while longer before Carla shifted carefully out from underneath Betsy and helped the sleepy girl up to bed with Lisa following behind.

----

“Do you want to write?” Carla asked quietly, when they were finally in bed. “In your journal? Might help you sleep.”

“Maybe in a bit,” Lisa said. She took Carla’s hand and threaded their fingers together, resting them both over her belly. “Can we just… lie here for a minute?”

Carla nodded, watching her with that fierce, adoring gaze that still undid her.

“You’re so brave,” Carla said simply.

“Thank you,” Lisa said into that little space. “For today. For… all of it. For making it feel like Christmas in my bones instead of exhaustion.”

The journal waited on the bedside table, its ribbon marker tucked halfway through. Eventually, Lisa would write about how Betsy’s hand had felt in hers, how the potato stamps had left green crescents in the kitchen sink that would probably still be there in January and how the practice squeezes had made her oddly calm like looking out to sea at the rising crests of the waves. She would write about being watched with love by the two most important people in the world and about the way Carla’s hand had never faltered as it rubbed the perfect place on her back. She would write: I’m ready.

But for now, she let the day end the way it had begun: with warmth and the quiet sense of almost arriving somewhere she’d been walking towards for a very long time.

Chapter Text

The front door swung open with a burst of cold air and the scent of pine from the wreath outside. Carla juggled bags of food while Lisa followed behind, clutching the last of the shopping in one arm and cradling her lower back with the other. Betsy danced ahead into the hallway, chattering about which festive treats they were going to eat first, which Christmas films they still had to watch and whether Father Christmas would really know exactly where to bring her baby sister’s present.

“Into the kitchen with it all, Bets!” Carla called, laughing as her daughter dropped a bag of crisps, bent down to pick it up and watched in slow motion as the box of mince pies she was balancing slipped from her arms.

Lisa put her bags down slowly, exhaling as a dull ache rippled through her abdomen. She stood for a moment, resting a hand on the worktop and letting the sensation pass. It wasn’t painful, not properly but it was different. Lower. Heavier. Duller and more rhythmic than the Braxton Hicks she’d been having for days.

Carla looked up as she caught Lisa pause. “You okay?” she asked gently, coming over to her.

Lisa nodded slowly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. “I think something’s starting.”

Carla’s eyes flickered in immediate understanding. “Yeah?”

Lisa nodded again. “It’s not much. Just like… a period pain and my back feels really achey, but it’s different this time. I think it might be the real thing.”

Carla didn’t say anything for a second, she just reached for Lisa’s hand and squeezed it tightly: that familiar, wordless language between them.

They both glanced into the living room, where Betsy was now emptying bags onto the coffee table like it was Christmas morning already.

“I don’t want to say anything to her yet,” Lisa murmured. “Not until things get going a bit more. It might stop. Or it might be hours - or even days.”

Carla nodded, understanding instantly. “We’ll keep it just us for now.”

Betsy was upstairs within the hour, running a bath for herself with help from Carla while Lisa tidied away the last of the shopping. Every so often she would pause, close her eyes and let the slow ache pass through her, breathing quietly through it.

Carla took charge of bath time, laughing as bubbles overflowed and Betsy tried to balance a tower of foam on her head. Lisa joined them once the worst of the splashing had passed, sitting on the closed toilet seat and watching the warm chaos while feeling the baby roll and press inside her.

Once Betsy was dried off in her towel, all warm cheeks and damp curls, she got into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth. Carla and Lisa tucked her into bed as usual, sharing a glance that said this could be the last bedtime we do as a family of three. Betsy asked for three chapters of her bedtime book because it was ‘almost Christmas’ and Carla didn’t argue.

Lisa sat on the edge of the bed, her hand absently rubbing her belly as she listened. When Carla had finished reading, she whispered, “Sleep well, my darling. Love you.”

“Night, Mummy,” Betsy murmured, before kissing the tight curve of the bump. “Night, baby.”

The ache pulsed again, a bit sharper this time, enough that Lisa had to close her eyes and breathe in and out slowly in an attempt to keep her voice steady.

When they’d closed Betsy’s bedroom door behind them, Carla turned and wrapped both arms around Lisa, holding her tightly.

“Still doing okay?” she whispered.

Lisa nodded into her shoulder. “More than okay. It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

“I think it is,” Carla said, smiling as she kissed Lisa’s forehead. “We’re having a baby.”

“Just not tonight,” Lisa murmured. “I mean, I don’t think so anyway.”

They stood together for a long time on the quiet landing, listening to the peaceful sounds of the house. The twinkling tree lights downstairs reflected up the stairs in little gold glimmers. A week before Christmas, their baby had chosen her moment.

“Tomorrow,” Lisa said quietly, her hands on her belly. “We’ll tell Betsy in the morning. Let her wake up to it. It’ll be the best present.”

Carla squeezed her hand and smiled. “The beginning of the best Christmas ever.”

----

Outside, frost clung to the windowpanes, silvering the corners of the glass: inside, soft candlelight flickered in the bedroom as Carla pulled the duvet gently up over Lisa’s hips.

“Try and rest, love,” Carla whispered, brushing a few strands of hair back from Lisa’s forehead.

Lisa nodded, eyes fluttering shut. The contractions were still irregular - some about twenty minutes apart, some fifteen - but they were consistent enough to know this was it. Early labour: the real thing.

Carla had timed each one as Lisa breathed through them, strong and steady but quiet, her body instinctively knowing what to do. Now, she lay on her side in bed, trying to catch whatever rest she could before everything intensified.

“I’m not sure I can sleep,” Lisa murmured into the pillow, not opening her eyes.

Carla crouched down beside her, resting her chin on the mattress so she was level with Lisa’s face. “I know. Just let your body soften. Even if you don’t sleep properly, lying still might help.”

Lisa reached for Carla’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Another wave passed through her, not sharp yet, but definite and Carla felt the faint squeeze of Lisa’s hand tighten in hers.

“Alright?” she asked softly.

Lisa nodded. “Yeah.”

Carla kissed her knuckles. “I’m going to set up the pool downstairs. I’ll keep checking on you.”

“Okay,” Lisa said again, her voice almost a whisper. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t.”

Downstairs, Carla moved quickly but quietly. She cleared the floor space and unboxed the birthing pool, working by lamplight and the faint glow of the fairy lights on the tree. The hush of the house felt sacred somehow, as if it already knew what was coming.

She popped back upstairs every ten minutes, sometimes finding Lisa shifting gently through another contraction. Carla would rub her back, hold her hand, kiss her temple. 

“Anything changing?” Carla whispered when she came back up for good, pulling her hair down from the ponytail she’d thrown it up into.

Lisa shook her head sleepily. “Still slow. I think I’m getting ten, fifteen minutes between them now.”

“Okay.” Carla climbed into bed beside her, carefully avoiding her bump, and wrapped an arm gently around her. “I’ve put the hose near the kitchen tap and laid out the towels. It's all ready.”

“Thank you.” Lisa let herself sink into the warmth of Carla’s body behind her. “You smell like eucalyptus.”

“Lavender and eucalyptus. It’s that relaxation spray. I spritzed it on a towel.”

Lisa gave a soft, sleepy chuckle. “You’re taking it all very seriously.”

Carla kissed the back of her neck. “You’re about to bring our daughter into the world. I’m not doing anything half-heartedly.”

Another wave came. Lisa tensed slightly and Carla moved her hand to Lisa’s lower back, rubbing gentle circles. She felt the change in Lisa’s breathing before the moment passed again and the silence returned.

“You okay?”

“Mmhm.” Lisa turned her head just enough to look back at her. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, soft with fatigue and love. “I think I might be able to try and sleep now you're back. Just to store up what I can.”

Carla nodded. “Good idea. I'll be here. Promise.”

Lisa closed her eyes again but didn’t fall asleep straight away. Her voice was small and thoughtful in the quiet.

“Do you think she’ll have my nose?”

Carla smiled. “I hope so. I only said yes to you carrying her so she didn't get lumbered with mine.” She gently squeezed Lisa's hand to reassure her she was joking.

“Stop it. You’re beautiful,” Lisa mumbled, already fading into the edge of sleep again.

They lay in the hush together, the calm before the storm. The last night before life changed.

“She’s really coming,” Lisa whispered eventually, after another contraction passed and Carla helped her breathe through it.

“I know,” Carla murmured, voice thick with wonder. “By this time tomorrow…”

Lisa opened her eyes again, wide now with the realisation. “She might be here. Out in the world.”

Carla nodded, her throat catching slightly. “We’ll be holding her. Looking at her face. Hearing her cry.”

Lisa’s hand moved to Carla’s cheek. “I can’t wait to see her. To know her.”

Carla pressed her lips to Lisa’s palm. “We already love her so much.”

They didn’t say much after that. The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, of Lisa’s body gently doing its work and Carla quietly supporting her through every moment.

The contractions were still mild but slowly getting closer. Lisa managed to sleep in between them, her hand always reaching for Carla in the darkness.

By the time the early morning light began to stretch towards the sky, Carla looked out into the quiet street, heart beating faster.

Their baby was coming.

Soon.

Chapter Text

Lisa’s whole world narrowed for a moment - her eyes squeezed shut, breath hitching as the pain wrapped around her like a tightening band. Carla knelt by the bed, one hand planted firmly in the small of Lisa’s back pressing steady pressure and the other hand clasped in Lisa’s.

Lisa breathed, slowly and deeply, just like they’d practised. When the pain eased, she sagged against the pillows, her face pale but calm.

“Ten minutes again,” Carla murmured, glancing at the clock.

Lisa nodded. “Still manageable,” she said softly, though her voice trembled, “but definitely getting more intense.”

Carla kissed her forehead and smoothed back her hair. “You’re doing so well.”

A faint thud from across the landing made them both pause. Then another. Little feet on the carpet: the sound of Betsy beginning to stir.

Carla stood up and whispered, “I’ll go and talk to her.”

Lisa nodded, eyes already fluttering shut for a precious moment of rest.

Carla padded softly across the landing and eased open the bedroom door. Betsy was sitting on her bed, brushing her doll’s hair.

“Mum!” she called, turning with a grin. “Is it time to get up?”

“It is,” Carla said with a soft smile, “and I’ve got some exciting news.”

Betsy perked up immediately, eyes wide.

“The baby’s coming,” Carla said gently. “Not right this second. But soon. Maybe today.”

Betsy gasped.

“Really? Is she really coming?” she squealed, bouncing on her bed.

Carla nodded. “She is. Mummy started having contractions last night. She’s doing really well, but things are starting to get a bit more intense now.”

“Can we go and see her?”

“Of course. Just remember that she might be in a bit of pain sometimes, so we need to be calm and gentle, okay?”

Betsy nodded solemnly and Carla led her softly into their bedroom.

Lisa was lying on her side, the duvet pulled over her knees. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw her daughter, her face soft and glowing despite the strain.

“Hey, you,” she said gently. “Guess what?”

“You’re having the baby!” Betsy beamed as she crawled onto the bed beside her.

Lisa smiled, her voice warm and breathy. “I am.”

Betsy leaned in close. “Is it hurting yet?”

Lisa laughed softly. “A little bit, yeah. But your mum's helping me and every pain means your sister is a little bit closer to being here.”

They all cuddled on the bed for a while - Lisa resting, Carla timing each wave and Betsy moving around Lisa like a little satellite drawn to her warmth. They chatted in soft voices, telling the baby how excited they were to meet her.

Then, mid-sentence, Lisa’s face tightened as a longer, sharper contraction crept up on her. Her breath hitched and she turned onto her side again, clutching Carla’s hand.

Betsy went quiet, watching closely.

Carla knelt down next to the bed and rubbed Lisa’s back, whispering soothing words as she breathed deeply.

When the pain passed, Lisa opened her eyes to find Betsy watching her with an intensity far beyond her years. Betsy reached forward, cradled Lisa’s face in her small hands, and said with complete sincerity, “You’re so brave.”

Tears welled up in Lisa’s eyes instantly. She pulled Betsy close and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, sweetheart…”

“Why are you crying, Mummy?”

Lisa laughed softly, brushing the tears away. “They’re happy tears. It’s going to be a big day… I’m just so glad we’re all together.”

Carla squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. “Me too.”

The room fell quiet again for a few minutes, filled only with the slow creaking of the house waking up and the soft breaths of three people holding tightly to a moment they knew they’d remember forever.

Eventually, Carla stood up and gently coaxed Betsy towards the door. “Why don’t you go and get some cereal and let Mummy rest for a little bit? I’ll stay here with her and come and get you if anything changes.”

The little girl hesitated, eyes flicking over to the mound under the duvet, but then she nodded before stroking her fingers down Lisa's hair and wandering off downstairs.

Carla turned back to Lisa and knelt down by the bed again. “You okay?”

Lisa reached out and brushed Carla’s cheek with her thumb. “I will be. I just needed that moment. With her.”

Carla rested her forehead against Lisa’s and closed her eyes. “You’re doing beautifully. She’s coming, Lise. She’s really coming.”

----

By lunchtime, the house had changed. There was a low hum in the air: quiet and expectant. Lisa’s contractions had drawn closer - now every five to six minutes and much stronger. She couldn’t sit still anymore. She needed to move.

The curtains were drawn just enough to soften the light in the space Carla had cleared in the living room. Lisa paced barefoot in a baggy t-shirt, swaying gently with each wave of pain that rolled through her. Carla stayed close - always within reach, always watching - her presence a silent, steady anchor.

Sometimes Lisa moaned quietly, letting the sound carry through her throat in a low, earthy hum. Other times she just breathed through the contraction, lips parted, with her hands braced against the back of a chair or against Carla’s shoulders.

Betsy had been with them since breakfast, tucked nearby with her colouring books and soft toys, speaking only in whispers now. She didn’t seem frightened. Just curious and serious, as if she understood something important was happening and she was lucky to witness it.

Carla noticed Lisa starting to lose focus. Her eyes were glassy, her knees bending instinctively with the swell of each contraction. Carla rubbed her back and whispered, “I think it’s time. Let’s get the pool filled up.”

Lisa nodded, her voice breathy. “Yes… please.”

Carla moved quickly, turning on the warm tap and checking the thermometer. Bit by bit, the water level began to rise.

As the pool filled, Lisa paused mid-contraction, hands on her thighs, breathing deeply. Carla watched her with a mix of awe and helpless love. She was watching her wife do something primal and powerful, and the sheer force of it left her speechless.

Betsy came up behind her, already in her swimming costume, goggles pushed up into her hair. “Can I go in the pool with Mummy?”

Carla turned, struggling to suppress a laugh but unsure all the same. “Darling, I don’t know-”

But Lisa, between breaths, nodded. “It’s okay. Nothing’s happening yet. And the water might help her stay calm too.”

Carla searched Lisa’s face for hesitation, found none, and nodded. “Alright. But you listen very carefully, missy - if Mummy says she needs space, you hop right out. Got it?”

Betsy grinned and nodded, already tiptoeing toward the pool.

Carla gently helped Lisa ease into the warm water. As soon as she sank into it, she sighed deeply - not a pained sound, but one of relief. Her whole body seemed to melt into it.

“Ohhh… that’s so much better,” Lisa murmured.

Carla leaned on the edge of the pool, her eyes never leaving Lisa. “You’re amazing, d'you know that?”

Lisa closed her eyes and breathed slowly. “Don’t stop telling me that.”

When the next contraction came, Carla reached out, letting Lisa hold onto her arms for support. She watched Lisa’s face change, watched the strength ripple through her muscles, the deep focus in her breathing, the quiet, guttural sound she made - not a scream, just something raw and ancient.

Carla didn’t think she had ever loved anyone more in her entire life.

Then the moment was broken with a splash and a giggle. Betsy launched herself next to Lisa in the pool, her goggles now firmly over her eyes and arms paddling gently.

“I’m helping,” she announced.

Lisa managed a small laugh through the tail end of her contraction. “You are, sweetheart.”

Carla grinned. “You look like you’re about to dive for treasure.”

Betsy blinked behind the goggles. “I am. The treasure is my sister.”

They all laughed - a quick, warm release - and the atmosphere lightened for a few precious minutes.

They watched, wide eyed, as Lisa leaned back in the water, her breathing evening out again.

Eventually, Carla felt a little pull on her shirt. Betsy reached out to grab a carton of apple juice with a bendy straw from the coffee table.

“Can Mummy have a drink now?” she whispered.

Carla smiled. “Perfect timing.”

Betsy moved gently forward, careful not to splash or startle, and knelt down, holding out the straw out to Lisa who took a long, grateful sip.

“Thank you,” Lisa whispered. “That’s just what I needed.”

Betsy leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Lisa’s damp shoulder. “I love you.”

Lisa’s eyes filled instantly, but she didn’t cry this time. She just reached out and touched Betsy’s cheek with wet fingers. “I love you too. So, so much.”

The moment stretched out between them, warm and sacred, as the water rippled gently and the house held its breath, waiting.

Chapter Text

Lisa had just eased back down into the pool after a strong contraction, her body swaying gently with the water as she focused on her breathing. Carla offered her another sip of drink, still holding tightly to her hand.

Betsy had finished her snack - a plate of apple slices and oat biscuits - and was back in her chosen position: still in her swimming costume, sitting in the water beside Lisa with her hands constantly reaching out to rub gentle fingers over her stomach.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

Carla opened the door to find Ruth, the midwife, bundled in a thick coat: a calm, competent energy radiated from her before she even stepped inside. She smiled warmly, greeting Carla before slipping off her shoes.

“Sounds like I’ve arrived at just the right time,” she said, putting her bag down and glancing towards the living room, where Lisa gave a muted groan. “Let’s see how we're doing.”

Ruth’s presence was grounding for all three of them - confident, gentle, kind. She moved into the room with a natural ease, smiling when she saw Lisa in the pool and the little girl watching her with wide eyes.

“Well, hello,” Ruth said, crouching down by the pool. “You must be Betsy. My name's Ruth - I’m here to help your mummy while your baby sister makes her way into the world.”

“Is she coming right now?” Betsy asked breathlessly.

Lisa managed a soft laugh. “Not quite, sweetheart. But soon.”

“Can I still watch? I'm being really good.”

Ruth gave her a warm nod. “You’re doing brilliantly. And you’re very lucky, you know - not many people get to meet their baby sister in the first few minutes of her life. If you want to be here, you can. And if you change your mind, that’s okay too.”

As Ruth began checking Lisa’s pulse and listening to the baby’s heartbeat, Carla crouched next to Lisa again, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “You’re being so calm,” she whispered in awe. “I thought by now you'd be swearing like a sailor and shouting the roof off.”

Lisa smiled weakly, riding out the wave of another contraction, her face tightening before relaxing again. “I want to try and stay quiet… for Betsy. I don’t want to scare her.”

Carla reached for her hand and kissed it. “Love… you don’t have to protect her from this. She's okay. You’re amazing, but if you need to shout, shout. If you need to be loud, do that. She’ll understand. I’ll make sure of it.”

Lisa closed her eyes, breathing deeply through another surge. Carla could see it was getting harder - her shoulders were tensing, her breath hitching more quickly now.

Ruth glanced up from where she was kneeling. “Lisa, you’re doing beautifully. I’d like to check where things are, would that be alright with you?”

Lisa nodded, already shifting in the water.

A few moments later, Ruth smiled as she straightened up and dried her gloved hands. “Eight centimetres. That’s wonderful progress. We’re getting close - it won’t be long before you start feeling that strong urge to push.”

Carla felt her heart skip.

“What does ‘eight centimetres’ mean?” Betsy asked, blinking.

“It means,” Carla said, gathering Betsy towards her and giving her a squeeze, “that your little sister is going to be here really soon.”

Betsy gasped and clapped her hands quietly. “Oh my gosh!”

She turned back to Lisa, placing both hands gently on her belly again. Her fingers were pruned from the water now and she rubbed slow little circles, just like she’d seen Carla doing earlier.

“Still okay, Lise?” Carla asked, watching her carefully.

Lisa nodded, eyes closed. “Feels good when she does that.”

But Carla had seen the way Lisa’s brow had furrowed during the last few contractions, how her hips now shifted urgently in the water, and she knew they were closer than Lisa wanted to admit.

“Bets,” Carla said softly, brushing back her daughter’s damp curls, “I think it might be time to hop out of the water now, alright?”

Betsy’s eyes narrowed with a silent question.

“Just for a little while,” Carla said gently. “The baby’s going to be here soon and Mummy’s body is going to start doing some big pushing. It might be better to watch from the side now.”

Betsy nodded, understanding - she was still a little girl, but she sensed the seriousness in Carla’s voice. With Carla’s help, she clambered out of the pool and wrapped herself in a towel, sitting down on the plastic sheeting next to her mum.

Ruth moved closer again, smiling at her. “The next part is when all of your mummy’s hard work really starts to pay off,” she said quietly. “It might get a bit noisy and she will be working really hard but everything happening is perfectly normal. And you are being such a wonderful helper.”

Betsy beamed.

Carla leaned closer to Lisa and whispered, “She's ready. We’re ready. You can do this.”

Lisa gave her a tearful smile through the next contraction, her fingers reaching blindly for Carla’s.

The pool rippled. The air held its breath again.

The next chapter of their lives was almost here.

----

The room was quiet, the air still apart from the sound of Lisa’s breathing - deep and rhythmic, each one a tether to the strength she’d been holding on to for hours. Carla sat right by the pool with her arms stretched out so Lisa could grip her hands tightly during contractions. Betsy was curled up on a blanket nearby, watching with wide eyes, the room lit only by soft lamps and the fading December light slipping through the curtains.

Then there came a change.

It began with a shift in Lisa’s face: the subtle tightening of her jaw, the way her fingers dug suddenly deeper into Carla’s.

And then it happened.

A contraction surged through her, fiercer than before. Lisa groaned - a deep, guttural sound that tore its way out of her throat as she rocked forward, clinging to the edge of the pool with trembling arms. It was the first real sound she’d made since this all began, the pain cutting through her control like a hot knife.

Betsy jolted a little on the blanket, eyes darting to Carla in alarm.

But Carla was ready. She leaned close to her daughter and whispered softly, “That sound means the baby is really coming now. Mummy’s doing such an amazing job. Remember, she’s okay, even when it looks like it’s hard.”

Lisa let out another groan, face pressed into her arm. Carla gave her hand a squeeze and whispered, “You’ve got this. I’m here.”

Ruth moved closer, calm as ever. She knelt by the pool and placed a hand on Lisa’s back. “Lisa, if your body feels like it wants to push, go ahead and listen to it.”

Lisa managed a small nod, eyes clenched shut as another wave came. She shifted into a kneeling position, leaning over the side of the pool, her arms draped over the edge with Carla’s hands still clasped in hers.

“I think I'm… I'm not trying to-” she gasped. “My body's just doing it.”

“Then go with it,” Ruth said gently. “You’re safe. You’re strong. You can push whenever you need to.”

Lisa’s next breath came out as a ragged pant, her hips rocking. Carla knelt in front of her now, one arm around her shoulders and the other stroking the small of her back as the first pushes rippled through her body.

Slowly, her breath turned into a primal noise - a grunt, a gasp, a deep roar of effort.

“There we go,” Ruth murmured, peering into the water. “We’re starting to see just the very top of the baby’s head. That’s it, Lisa. Beautiful work.”

She turned slightly to Betsy. “If you want to see, come close - over here on this side. You’ll see your sister being born.”

Betsy scrambled forward, curiosity overtaking caution, still wrapped in her towel. She knelt just along from Carla, her eyes fixed on the water as Ruth pointed gently.

“There,” she said, “see that? That’s the baby's head starting to come through. It might come out a bit, and then slide back in - that’s all part of the process.”

Lisa gasped, the burn of the stretch making her hiss through her teeth.

“It hurts,” she cried softly, rocking again. “Oh my God, it hurts so much-” 

She turned again, resting her back against the edge of the pool, knees falling sideways to open herself up against the pressure. 

“I can't do it, Carla. I-” she cried, her breaths sharp and fast. 

“You can,” Carla whispered, holding her tighter. “You’re doing it, Lise. I can see her. You’re incredible.”

Lisa whimpered through the next push, panting as the baby’s head edged out and then disappeared again. She let out a sob, but not of fear - it was awe, pain and power, all braided into one overwhelming moment.

“You’re stretching beautifully,” Ruth assured gently. “That’s your baby’s head again, a bit more this time. You’re doing perfectly. Each breath is bringing her down.”

The next contraction crested. Lisa roared this time, her voice shaking through the living room like a force of nature. Carla held her through it, their cheeks touching.

“You’re doing it,” Carla whispered. “You’re really doing it, baby.”

Lisa gritted her teeth and pushed. Her whole body clenched and, this time, the baby’s head stayed.

“Oh my God,” Lisa sobbed, reaching down with a trembling hand. She touched her daughter’s head - wet, silky, warm - and a cry broke free of her chest.

“I can’t believe I’m doing it!”

“You’re not just doing it,” Ruth said proudly. “You’re doing it with such control. That’s your baby, right there. She's nearly here.”

Betsy leaned in closer, stunned into silence. The room felt like it was holding its breath with her.

There was a pause then - Lisa resting, breathing, the water lapping gently around her. The world outside seemed impossibly distant. Inside, there was only warmth and quiet awe and a baby turning gently inside her mother’s body.

Then Lisa gasped again.

“It’s there. I need to push again-”

“Go on,” Ruth said, poised. “Next push. This is it.”

Lisa gathered herself. She bore down with everything she had. Carla’s voice was in her ear: steady, encouraging, tearful.

And with one long shaking groan, the baby slid free into the water.

Ruth’s arms were already there, catching her and guiding her gently up into the air.

Then - a cry. Strong, loud, unmistakable.

Lisa reached out, sobbing. Ruth laid the baby on her chest, warm and slick and perfect.

“Oh - is she okay?” Lisa gasped, cradling the baby close and kissing her tiny, damp head over and over.

Ruth nodded, smiling widely as she rubbed the baby's back with a wet towel.

“She’s perfect,” Carla said, her voice breaking. “You’re perfect. Everything’s perfect.”

Betsy’s mouth was wide and her eyes glistened. She inched closer, resting her head against Carla’s shoulder as she gazed in amazement at her baby sister.

Lisa looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks, her arms cradling their girl as she cried and blinked and rooted blindly against her mother.

“She’s here,” Lisa whispered. “She’s really here.”

And the four of them sat together in awe, in love, in the stillness of the most powerful moment of their lives.

Chapter Text

“You did it, Mummy,” Betsy breathed, her voice trembling with awe and disbelief.

Lisa blinked, looking down at the tiny, wriggling, wet bundle on her chest. The baby’s cries had softened now, replaced by snuffling breaths and small, searching movements. Lisa held her a little tighter, her hand cradling the baby’s head, still slick with vernix and damp hair.

She looked up, eyes glassy, and found Carla’s face.

“I did it,” she whispered. “I actually… did it?”

Carla’s eyes overflowed. She nodded, speechless for a second, and then leaned in, cupping Lisa’s face with both hands. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice full of pride and disbelief. “You did it. My God, Lisa. I’ve never seen anything so amazing in my whole life.”

Then she kissed her - long and deep, still holding her face, like she needed to anchor herself to the moment, to this woman who had just brought their daughter into the world. Lisa melted into her, exhausted and elated and still shaking.

“Can you help me get this off?” Lisa asked quietly, tugging at the damp edge of her top with one hand.

Carla moved quickly, gently helping to peel it up and over Lisa’s head. The blonde shivered slightly, bare skin meeting warm water and warmer baby. Ruth helped guide the newborn back onto Lisa’s chest, skin on skin now, and the baby instinctively curled closer, a tiny hand twitching against Lisa’s collarbone.

“This is skin-to-skin,” Ruth explained to Betsy, her voice calm and soothing. “It helps regulate the baby’s heartbeat and temperature. It also helps her feel safe because she knows her mummy’s smell and voice already.”

Betsy sat mesmerised; she was hugging her knees, cheeks pink with emotion as silent tears ran down her face.

“I can’t believe my sister's really here,” she said, wiping her eyes with the towel that was still wrapped around her shoulders. “She’s so tiny.”

Lisa looked up at her and gave a tired, tearful smile. “You were the first person in the world to see her.”

“Can I hold her?”

“You absolutely can,” Ruth said, “but not just yet. She’s getting used to the world - breathing, adjusting to the light and the air, feeling safe with her mummy. There are a few more things we need to do first.”

Carla was still there, right next to the pool, with her hand resting lightly on Lisa’s shoulder. She couldn’t take her eyes off either of them - Lisa and their baby. Her chest ached with love, as though her heart was physically expanding behind her ribs.

“Would you like to cut the cord, Carla?” Ruth asked gently.

Carla blinked, looking up. “Me?”

She glanced at Lisa, unsure. Lisa nodded immediately. “Yes. Please. I want you to.”

Ruth smiled at Betsy. “So, this cord here - it’s what kept the baby connected to Mummy during the pregnancy. It gave her food and oxygen, but now she’s breathing on her own so we can gently cut it when it’s ready.”

She showed her the cord, still pulsing faintly in the water, and explained how they’d wait until it stopped.

“She doesn’t need it anymore,” Betsy said softly, “because she has us.”

Ruth smiled warmly at her. “Exactly.”

A few minutes later, when the cord had turned pale and stopped pulsing, Ruth handed Carla a sterile pair of scissors. Carla’s hands shook as she reached over: Ruth guided her fingers.

“Just here. Nice clean snip. You’ve got this.”

With one deep breath, Carla cut the cord. The snip echoed softly in the room.

Betsy clapped - instinctively, reverently - like she’d just witnessed the end of a miracle. In many ways, she had.

Lisa looked down at her daughter, cradled on her bare chest, and kissed her head again. “She’s so perfect,” she whispered.

“She is,” Carla said, stroking Lisa’s hair, “and so are you.”

“Is there more?” Betsy asked Ruth, curious once more.

“Just one more job for Mummy before she comes out of the pool,” Ruth said. “She needs to deliver the placenta - that’s the organ that kept the baby alive inside her tummy.”

“My mum told me about that. It's like the baby’s backpack isn't it?” Betsy asked.

Ruth chuckled. “Kind of, yes. And that has to come out too, but this part isn’t nearly as hard. The baby’s the real work.”

Lisa nodded, tired but ready. “Let’s do it,” she said, and looked down at the baby still nestled against her chest. “We’ve done the hard part already, haven’t we, little one?”

----

The placenta was delivered with little fuss, and Ruth carefully examined it with a quiet nod of approval before wrapping it up to be dealt with later.

“All looks perfect,” she said kindly, smiling at Lisa. “Now let’s think about getting you out of the pool and warmed up.”

Lisa nodded slowly, her body starting to feel the weight of everything it had just done. She glanced at Betsy, still seated cross-legged on the floor with her face full of wonder.

Leaning towards Carla, Lisa whispered, “I don’t want her to see this part. It might not be… pretty.”

Carla touched her shoulder and gave a soft smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

She turned to their daughter. “Hey, lovey, could you do me a huge favour? Remember those presents you picked out for the baby a few weeks ago?”

Betsy lit up.

“Why don't you go and find them? Then you can have them ready to give her when everything’s a bit calmer.”

Betsy scrambled up with an eager nod and ran for the stairs, giggling with the kind of energy only a child could summon after such a profound event.

Lisa turned to Carla and looked down at the squirming bundle on her chest. “Can you… take her?” she asked, her voice quiet. “So I can get out and dry off.”

Carla hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Lisa looked up at her, tears in her eyes. “Carla. She’s your baby too.”

With trembling arms, she gently passed the baby over, one hand supporting her neck. As she did, she whispered, “Here you go, little one. This is your mum.”

Carla took her daughter into her arms for the first time.

Something in her cracked open.

She let out a raw sob, her face pressed to the damp, warm forehead of the baby.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, hi baby. I love you so much. You’ve no idea. And your mummy-” her voice broke, “your mummy is the bravest person I’ve ever known.”

Ruth moved gently to Lisa’s side, supporting her with a soft voice and steady hands as she helped her step out of the pool. Wrapped in fresh towels, Lisa leaned on Ruth slightly, her legs quivering but her face glowing with an almost supernatural light. She was exhausted but calm, radiant in the raw, elemental way only a new mother can be.

Carla was just settling onto the sofa when Betsy's footsteps thundered down the stairs.

“Got them!” she called, clutching the two wrapped parcels.

She slowed when she saw Lisa, now wrapped in towels and easing herself carefully down onto the floor with her back against the sofa. Carla bent down and, with care, placed the baby back in Lisa’s arms. She settled immediately, as though she’d never left.

“She missed you,” Carla whispered.

Betsy came closer, cautiously now, awe returning as she hovered by Carla.

“You can come closer,” Lisa said, smiling. “Just be gentle.”

Betsy reached out, first brushing a finger ever so carefully across the baby’s impossibly soft cheek before placing a hand over her tiny curled toes.

“She’s so warm,” she whispered, “and soft.”

She placed the presents down on the coffee table for later, too spellbound to think about them now.

Ruth gave them all a minute before she cleared her throat gently. “Would you like to try feeding her, Lisa? She looks like she's rooting so it might be a good time.”

Lisa nodded, shifting in her seat and unwrapping the towel from her shoulder. “Yeah, okay.”

Ruth crouched beside her and spoke gently as she guided Lisa through the steps: the angle, the way to hold her, how to encourage her mouth to open. Betsy watched quietly, soaking in every word.

“There we go,” Ruth said softly and, just like that, the baby latched.

The room held its breath.

“She’s doing it,” Betsy whispered. “She’s drinking.”

Lisa looked down at her daughter, a tear slipping down her cheek. She glanced up and saw them all - Carla crouched beside her, Betsy curled up on the other side, and Ruth quietly stepping back to give them this moment.

Betsy leaned in again. “Do you feel better now, Mummy?”

Lisa smiled. Her voice cracked slightly as she answered, “I have never felt as good as I feel right now, with all my girls around me.”

Carla kissed her temple and whispered, “Me neither.”

And the baby suckled, steady and sure, as if she’d always belonged here - right in the centre of their world.

Chapter Text

Ruth packed up her things quietly, her calm, capable presence lingering like a steady heartbeat in the background.

“She’s beautiful,” she said one last time, giving Lisa’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You did an incredible job. I’ll be back in two days to check in, but call me if you need anything before that - anything at all.”

Lisa nodded, too tired for many words, her eyes still locked on the bundle nestled against her chest. “Thank you, Ruth. So much. For everything.”

Ruth smiled warmly at the whole room, then let herself out, closing the door gently behind her.

A soft hush settled over the house.

Lisa exhaled slowly. Her body was aching in places she didn’t know could ache, her legs still trembled faintly beneath the blanket Carla had tucked around her, but her heart felt impossibly full. No one said much - they just sat together in the golden light of the two lamps, each of them captivated by the sleeping baby in Lisa’s arms.

Carla perched on the edge of the sofa at Lisa’s side, one arm wrapped gently around her shoulders. Betsy had curled up on the floor, her eyes barely blinking as she stared at her new sister, still tingling with adrenaline.

Eventually, Lisa blinked back into focus and looked at her daughter. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked gently. “I mean… really okay? What you saw today was a big thing. It’s not every day you see a person being born.”

Betsy looked up to Carla, then back at Lisa.

“I thought it would be scarier,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t. You were so calm. And Mum was there. I wasn’t scared - not really.”

“I didn't think you'd stay with us the whole time but you did,” said Carla, twisting a lock of Betsy's hair around her finger. 

The little girl nodded. “I was worried when you made that big sound just before the baby came out. But then she was here, and it was just… the best thing ever.”

Lisa smiled through the fog of exhaustion. “Do you have any questions? Anything you’re wondering about or want to talk about? It’s okay if you do.”

Betsy chewed her lip in thought. 

“Does it hurt afterwards? Like… now?”

Lisa nodded honestly. “Yes, it does. I'm sore and achey and I feel a bit wobbly. But it’s alright. It means something wonderful just happened. And I’ll rest, and I’ll heal. I’ve got you to help.”

“And does the baby know she’s out now?”

That made Lisa laugh softly. “She’s working it out. She’s learning what it feels like to breathe and see, and feel cold and warm and touched. That’s why I'm keeping her close, so she knows she’s safe.”

Carla leaned over and kissed the top of Lisa’s head. “And she’s got the best big sister in the world to help her learn all that.”

Betsy smiled, proud and sleepy.

Carla glanced at the clock. “Alright, my clever, brave girl - it’s time to brush your teeth and get into your PJs. We’ve all had a big day.”

“A big day,” Betsy echoed, stretching as she got up. “The biggest.”

She kissed Lisa goodnight - once on each cheek - stroked the baby's tiny fingers and padded upstairs.

“I'll be up to tuck you in in a minute,” Carla called up after her.

She turned to Lisa and tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “How do you really feel?”

Lisa let out a long, shaky breath and laid her head back. “Tired. And sore. Like I’ve run three marathons in a row. Through sand.”

Carla smiled gently.

“But…” Lisa looked down at the baby and her voice thickened with emotion, “I also feel… deliriously happy. And so proud. I didn’t know what giving birth would be like - I couldn’t picture it - but it wasn’t like anything I imagined. It was more raw. More powerful. And… you gave me the strength to do it.”

Carla’s eyes welled. She leaned in and kissed Lisa again, one hand on the baby’s back. “You used the strength you’ve had inside you all along. I just got to be there to watch you find it.”

Lisa looked down at their daughter again.

“Her hair,” she whispered, brushing a finger over the dark tufts. “It’s like velvet.”

Carla touched the baby’s lips, pink and pursed. “And those tiny lips… she’s perfect.”

They sat like that for a few minutes, just the three of them, cocooned in the hush of the evening in a room still echoing with everything it had held that day. The Christmas lights twinkled softly from the corner, casting gentle stars across the ceiling.

Lisa sighed again, her body sinking deeper into Carla’s side.

“I can't believe she's here,” she whispered. “She's finally here.”

Chapter Text

The house was still, the early morning light casting a pale blue sheen across the landing as Betsy tiptoed out of her bedroom.

She crept down the stairs, the soft creak of the old steps beneath her feet sounding much louder in the silence of the morning. She peered around the corner into the living room, expecting to see her mums asleep on the sofa like the night before but the blankets were folded neatly, the birthing pool was empty and the soft hum of the room was quiet and still.

“They’re not here,” Betsy whispered to herself, confused.

She padded back up the stairs and paused outside her mums’ bedroom. The door was pulled nearly closed, just a sliver of golden light glowing through the crack. Gently, she pushed it open.

Inside, the scene was quiet and magical.

Carla sat propped up against a pile of pillows with the baby bundled in her arms. Her face lit up when she saw Betsy and she held a finger to her lips.

“Shhhh,” she whispered. “Mummy’s asleep.”

Betsy stepped softly into the room, making a beeline for the tiny baby swaddled in white, her little face turned in against Carla’s chest.

“She’s so small,” Betsy whispered in awe.

Carla nodded. “She really is, isn’t she?”

“Can I come up?”

Carla shifted slightly and nodded, gesturing towards her side of the bed. “Carefully.”

She climbed up onto the bed, moving slowly, the mattress dipping gently with her weight. Lisa lay sleeping, curled towards the centre. Her face was peaceful and one arm was still wrapped protectively around the space where the baby had been earlier.

“She must be so tired,” Betsy said, watching Lisa’s soft breathing.

“She is,” Carla whispered, cradling the baby gently. “Having a baby is a big job. Her body worked really hard yesterday. She’s still hurting today, so we need to be extra gentle and quiet. We’re going to help look after her, okay?”

Betsy nodded determinedly, her little face set with purpose.

Carla looked down at the baby, who squirmed slightly in her arms and gave a soft, high-pitched sigh.

“She’s still getting used to everything,” Carla said softly. “All the sounds, the light, the smells. It’s a lot for someone brand new.”

Lisa stirred then, slowly blinking her eyes open and turning her head towards the sound of her family.

“Morning,” she said, her voice rough with sleep. She blinked again, taking in the sight of her girls both snuggled up with her wife. “What’s all this?”

“Betsy came looking for us,” Carla said, smiling.

Lisa reached out her arms and Carla gently passed the baby to her. “She fussed a bit but I think she just wanted you.”

Lisa shifted carefully, wincing a little as she settled back into the pillows. The baby rooted against her chest and Lisa instinctively opened her pyjama top to feed her. Betsy stared, fascinated but silent, as the baby latched and suckled hungrily.

“It’s okay to ask questions,” Lisa said gently, smiling at her.

“Does that hurt?” Betsy asked.

“No,” Lisa said. “It feels a bit strange, but not painful. It’s kind of… lovely. Like we’re learning each other.”

Betsy watched with wide eyes.

“What does she eat?”

“Milk,” Lisa said. “My body makes it for her. That’s what newborn babies eat. Well, drink. Just milk. All the time.”

Betsy giggled. “She’s so hungry for someone so little.”

Lisa laughed softly. “She’s got a lot of growing to do.”

Once the baby had finished feeding, Lisa wiped her mouth gently and wrapped her snugly back in the blanket. She looked at Carla, then at Betsy.

“Do you want to hold her?”

Betsy gasped and nodded furiously.

“Okay,” Carla said, sitting up and moving towards her, “but we need to do it the proper way. You have to sit very still and hold her with both arms. I’ll help you.”

Betsy sat cross-legged in the centre of the bed, her little arms open and ready. Carla placed a pillow in her lap and slowly eased the baby onto it, adjusting Betsy’s arms around her.

“She’s so warm, and her hands are so wrinkly.”

“She’s been in water for nine months,” Lisa said, smiling. “She’ll smooth out soon.”

“She smells like… something new.”

“She is something new,” Carla said gently. “This will be her first proper day out in the world.”

Betsy looked down at her sister like she was made of magic.

“What’s her name?” she asked suddenly.

Lisa and Carla looked at each other.

“We haven’t told you yet, have we?” Carla said.

“You picked one already?”

Lisa nodded. “We wanted to meet her first. But yes - we’ve chosen a name.”

Betsy leaned in.

“It's Mia,” Lisa said softly. “Mia Hayley Swain.”

Betsy whispered it under her breath. “Mia… Can I call her Mimi sometimes?”

“If you want to,” Carla said. “She’s your sister. You can make up your own special names for her.”

They all stared at the baby for a long time. Carla pulled the duvet up around all of them, her arm draped behind Lisa as Mia dozed again in Betsy’s arms.

In that soft bubble of morning light and warmth, Lisa looked around at her girls - all three of them - and felt something deep inside her settle. This was their new shape now. Their new beginning.

“You know,” she said, running her fingers gently over Mia’s hair, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Carla kissed her temple. “Neither have I.”

----

Lisa still sat nestled in bed, cradling Mia against her chest. The baby was finally asleep after a fussy evening and Lisa had barely taken her eyes off her, but as Mia settled and she could hear Betsy in her bedroom reading a story to her cuddly toys, something sparked in the back of Lisa’s mind.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

Carla, returning from downstairs with a mug of tea, paused mid-step. “What? What is it?”

Lisa looked up, horrified. “Carla… It’s Christmas. In five days.”

Carla blinked, then smiled, a slow and knowing grin spreading across her face. “Yes, darling. It is.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Lisa whispered. “Nothing! The presents, the food, the stockings, Betsy-”

“Hey.” Carla put the tea on the bedside table and crossed over to the wardrobe. “Relax.”

Lisa blinked at her.

With a slight flourish, Carla pulled open the wardrobe door and took out an enormous, overflowing box. Lisa stared.

Carla plonked it on the end of the bed. “Ta-da.”

“What is that?”

Carla opened the box and began pulling out presents, carefully wrapped and labelled with tags that read To Betsy, love from Father Christmas. Lisa’s jaw dropped.

“I made a list based on what she asked for,” Carla said with a shrug. “Then added a few things I thought she’d like. You were growing a human and I guessed we’d be in the new baby bubble by now.”

Lisa’s throat tightened. “Carla…”

“It’s the least I could do, babe. Honestly.”

Lisa shook her head in awe. “It’s the most. It’s… wow.”

Carla climbed onto the bed with her and began sorting the presents. “I thought I’d wrap the rest of them tonight whilst it’s quiet, if you want to keep me company?”

Lisa adjusted Mia, who remained sleeping peacefully, and smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Carla reached for the scissors and tape, balancing wrapping paper against her knees. As she began to count the rolls, Lisa watched her for a long time, her expression soft.

“How do you feel? Is it strange?” she asked quietly.

Carla paused. “What do you mean?”

Lisa shifted, brushing her thumb gently over Mia’s tiny fingernails. “Not being the one who had the baby. Do you… I don’t know… feel a bit left out?”

Carla slowly took the wrapping paper and carefully stood the cylinders in the box. “You’re worried about me?”

Lisa nodded. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like this moment isn’t yours too.”

Carla heaved the box back into the wardrobe and turned to face her fully. “Lisa. Watching you bring our daughter into the world was the most honoured I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ve never loved you more. I’ve never felt more part of something.”

Lisa’s eyes shimmered. “You’re sure?”

Carla leaned over and pressed a kiss to Lisa’s lips. “I’m sure. You gave her life, and I get to spend the rest of mine loving both of you for it.”

They smiled at each other for a long time, the kind of look only two people who had walked through fire together could share.

“Ready to swap?”

Lisa nodded and, ever so gently, passed Mia into Carla’s arms. Carla settled her against her chest, supporting her head with the awe of someone who was still learning but who knew how precious these moments were.

Lisa leaned back against the pillows, watching them. Watching Carla’s face soften as she studied Mia’s tiny features. Watching the baby’s hand curl instinctively around one of Carla’s fingers.

“She knows you,” Lisa whispered.

Carla looked up. “I think she does.”

They sat like that in silence for a while - just the three of them in the dim evening light, with the gentle sounds of Mia’s breathing and the promise of a magical Christmas just around the corner.

Chapter Text

The knock on the door came just as Lisa was easing herself down onto the sofa with Mia nestled against her chest. She flinched slightly at the sound; her body was still tender. Before either she or Carla could move, Betsy was already dashing towards the hall, her socks sliding on the wooden floor.

“I’ll get it!” she called, her little voice bright with excitement.

Carla grinned from where she stood by the kitchen door, folding a pile of muslin cloths. “Of course you will,” she murmured, shaking her head with affection.

Lisa adjusted Mia gently, her hand cradling the baby’s tiny head. The weight of her against Lisa’s chest still felt surreal, as though every breath Lisa took now was wrapped in a miracle. She could hear Betsy fumbling with the door chain and then the squeal of the hinges.

“Auntie Helen! Uncle Dan! Come in!”

Helen’s voice floated through first, warm and full of laughter. “Oh, look at you, little miss grown up!”

Then came Dan’s chuckle, low and easy. “We’ve got a big sister in our midst now, haven’t we?”

Lisa heard the shuffle of shoes on the mat, the whoosh of cold air following them in, and then Helen’s voice again, softer now. “Oh, Bets… you look so happy.”

“She is,” Carla said, stepping out into the hall just as Helen and Dan reached the living room doorway, “and wait ‘til you see who’s made her that way.”

Helen’s eyes widened the second they landed on Lisa. Or rather, on the small white bundle in her arms. Everything about Helen’s face softened, and for a moment she didn’t move; she just stood there, drinking it in, one hand pressed to her mouth like she needed to stop all the feelings from spilling over.

“Oh… oh my God.” Her voice cracked. “Lisa…”

Lisa smiled, tired but glowing in that way new mothers often do when love eclipses everything else. “Come and meet her,” she said quietly.

Dan was right behind Helen, his tall frame bent a little as if he was afraid to step too heavily in a room so full of softness and safety. His usual grin was there, but there was something else in his expression too - a kind of pride.

Helen moved first, crossing the room slowly, her eyes locked on Mia like she couldn’t quite believe she was real. “She’s… oh, she’s gorgeous.” Her voice broke again as she crouched down in front of Lisa. “Look at her, Lise.”

Lisa tilted the baby gently so Helen could see her tiny face, delicate lashes fanning against her cheeks as she slept.

“She’s so small,” Helen whispered, brushing the hair on Mia’s head with a featherlight touch. “She’s… oh, Lisa.” Her eyes flicked up, glossy with tears. “You did it.”

Lisa laughed softly, a little shaky. “Yeah… we did.”

Carla came up behind Helen then, sliding an arm around Lisa’s shoulders as she perched on the arm of the sofa. Her other hand went instinctively to Mia, resting there, protective and tender.

“Hello, little one,” Helen murmured, still barely above a whisper as she stroked the back of the baby's silky hand. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Dan crouched beside her now, his big hands dangling loosely over his knees. He peered at Mia and then shook his head with a grin. “I’ve got to admit,” he said, his voice betraying the emotion he was trying so hard to hide, “I didn’t think anything in the uncle handbook could have prepared me for seeing Betsy for the first time. But… flipping heck.”

Betsy giggled from where she’d plopped onto the rug, cross-legged and beaming. “I know. Isn’t she the best?”

Helen turned to her, her face lighting up. “You were there, weren’t you? You saw your baby sister being born?”

Betsy nodded eagerly, her curls bouncing. “Yep! Mummy let me stay and I wasn’t even scared - not even when she made those really funny noises.”

Lisa groaned softly, covering her face with one hand. “Thanks, Bets.”

Carla smirked. “She’s not wrong, love.”

Helen laughed through the tears still clinging to her lashes. “Go on then, tell me everything, sweetheart. What was it like?”

Betsy straightened up, proud as anything. “It was… amazing. Like, Mummy was in the pool and she was holding on to Mum’s hands, and the midwife - Ruth - she was there and she kept saying how brilliant Mummy was doing. And then, when it was time, Mummy said she felt pushy-”

Lisa let out a snort, then winced. Carla actually laughed aloud, ruffling Betsy’s hair. “Pushy, eh?”

“That’s what you said!” Betsy protested indignantly, looking at Lisa. “You did! You said, ‘I feel pushy!’”

Dan chuckled, trying and failing to stifle it. Helen was shaking with laughter now too, wiping her eyes with her fingertips.

“And then what happened?” Helen prompted.

Betsy’s voice dropped to an awed hush. “Then the baby came. I got to see her head, and then… she just whooshed out! Ruth caught her in the water and put her on Mummy and then Mum was crying and I was crying and Mummy was crying - everyone was crying. But in a happy way.”

Helen covered her mouth again, blinking hard. “Oh, Betsy… that sounds incredible.” She glanced up at her sister, eyes softening. “Lise… I’m so proud of you.”

Lisa swallowed, her throat suddenly thick. “Thanks, Hels.” Her gaze drifted to Mia again, who stirred slightly, her tiny mouth opening in a silent yawn. Lisa’s chest ached with something fierce and tender all at once.

They sat like that for a while - Helen and Dan taking turns holding Mia, marvelling over her impossibly small fingers and the way she melted into them like she knew they were safe. Betsy stayed glued to Helen’s side the whole time, chatting away about how she was going to teach Mia to read and draw and everything else it was a big sister’s job to teach her.

Eventually, Helen rose reluctantly, brushing a kiss over Lisa’s hair. “We should let you rest,” she said softly. “Before we go… I’m guessing you’ll want a quiet Christmas? Just the four of you?”

Carla nodded, her arm curling back around Lisa. “That was the plan, yeah.”

“Well,” Helen said, smiling warmly, “if you do feel like getting out for a couple of hours, we’d love to have you for Christmas lunch. No pressure. Just… the door’s open. Dan's got enough food in to feed twenty at least!”

“Thanks, Helen,” Carla said, meaning it.

Dan crouched to hug Betsy. “You look after your mums for us, yeah? And your little sister.”

“I will,” Betsy promised.

The door clicked softly behind them, leaving the house quiet. Carla sank into the sofa and let out a long sigh, her hand resting on her stomach as she watched Lisa adjust Mia in her arms. Lisa’s eyes were soft with contentment as she whispered hushed words to the baby and stroked her tiny hands. Betsy, now perched on the arm of the sofa, watched them both with a serious expression, as though slowly committing this new normal to memory.

Lisa shifted in her seat and glanced at Carla. “I can’t believe it’s only a few days until Christmas,” she murmured. “I’m still not even sure I have the energy to think about it yet.”

Carla reached over and tucked a loose tress of blonde behind Lisa’s ear. “We’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “Right now, we’ve got each other and we’ve got Mia and Betsy. That’s what’s important.”

Lisa smiled, though it was tinged with fatigue. “I know… but it’s different this year, you know? I just want to soak in every moment with her before it all gets chaotic.”

“You will,” Carla said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Betsy, who had been quietly observing, piped up. “Mummy, I want it to be special for Mia. I don’t want Christmas to be just… busy. Can it just be us four? You two and me and Mia?”

Lisa blinked, taken aback by her daughter’s thoughtfulness. “Really, sweetheart?” she asked softly, brushing a hand across Betsy’s forehead. “You don’t mind if we don’t see Auntie Helen for Christmas lunch this year?”

Betsy shook her head. “No. Mia’s brand new and you’re still tired. I just want us all to be together.”

Carla watched Lisa’s smile and felt her heart swell. Despite everything that had happened over the past few days, Lisa radiated a calm happiness that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Her wife had been so worried about the birth, about the recovery, about her own inexperience as a mother to a newborn. But now, seeing her hold Mia, gently swaying her in her arms, Carla realised that Lisa had found a rhythm with her children, with their family as it was now. It was fragile still, as everything settled from extraordinary to normalcy, but it was so, so beautiful.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of quiet laughter, soft Christmas music, and the occasional squeal from Betsy as she and Carla made some festive biscuits to decorate. Lisa marvelled at how the two girls brought a different kind of energy to the house. Betsy was lively, curious and eager to help. Mia, tiny and fragile, was calm and observant, her breathing so relaxed and even that Lisa could feel her own slowing right down alongside it.

By early afternoon, the biscuits were cooling, and the house smelled delicious. Carla brought a cuppa over to Lisa and sat down next to her on the sofa. “You look tired,” she said, noting the shadows under Lisa’s eyes.

“I am,” Lisa admitted, leaning back against Carla, “but I don’t want to sleep because then I have to stop looking at her.”

Carla wrapped an arm around her and held her close. “I know what you mean,” she said, drawing the back of her finger over Mia’s soft cheek. “We don’t have to do anything at all except this. Just take it all in. Look at her,” she said, nodding towards the baby. “You made that.”

Lisa let out a small laugh, resting her head against Carla.

There was a moment of peace as they watched their two children together - one tiny and new, one a growing, confident eight-year-old, but both of them surrounded by love and warmth. Betsy began to bring over Christmas tree decorations one by one and explain the story behind each of them.

Lisa’s chest tightened. She had always imagined herself being a mother, yes, but never like this: fully, completely, surrounded by a family she loved and who loved her in return. She could feel Carla’s warm weight steadying her as her mind briefly raced with thoughts of the past, of the losses she had endured, of the uncertainty that had once defined her life. But in this moment, all of that felt distant. Here, in the gentle chaos of their living room, with Betsy chattering and Mia snuffling, she felt anchored, safe and utterly content.

As the afternoon sun began to lower, Carla got up to tidy and few bits from the coffee table while Lisa continued to hold Mia. “I think we should have a quiet Christmas,” Carla said softly. “Just us. Let’s just be together, without having to rush off anywhere.”

Lisa nodded. “Me too.”

Betsy wandered over to them, clutching a book about penguins at Christmas. “Mummy, can we read a story before dinner?” she asked, her eyes shining with excitement and warmth.

Lisa smiled and kissed her daughter’s head. “Of course, love. Let’s all sit together.”

They curled up on the sofa, Mia nestled against Carla’s chest and Betsy leaning into Lisa’s side. The story was read slowly, deliberately, each page savoured. Carla and Lisa took turns reading aloud, sharing glances and soft smiles as Betsy reacted to the pictures and words. When the story ended, Lisa tucked Betsy into a blanket, and Carla adjusted Mia so she was comfortable and warm.

Carla looked at Lisa, her voice quiet but firm. “I want you to rest tonight. You’ve done everything, all day, and I want you to just be. I’ll handle the girls if they need anything.”

Lisa nodded, smiling appreciatively. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You make all of this possible.”

Carla smiled back, her lips brushing against Lisa’s. “We make it possible together.”

Betsy yawned and nestled closer to Lisa, already half asleep. Mia cooed softly against Carla’s chest, her tiny fists curling and uncurling. Lisa felt a surge of love so powerful it nearly overwhelmed her. “I think this… this is what Christmas is supposed to feel like,” she murmured.

Chapter Text

The January air in Weatherfield was crisp and Lisa had bundled Mia into her warm pram, tucking a blanket snugly around her. Betsy tugged at her scarf, bouncing slightly on her heels with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“You ready, love?” Lisa asked, adjusting Mia so she could see her face over the edge of the pram.

Betsy nodded, her rucksack bouncing with each tiny step. “I think so, but it’s weird isn’t it? We’ve had all of Christmas together and now we have to go back to normal… but it isn’t normal anymore because Mia’s here now.”

Lisa smiled softly, pulling her hat down so it covered her ears. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a new thing for all of us. It’s only a few hours though, and then your mum’ll be picking you up. You’ll have a great time with all your friends and Mia will be waiting for you to come home later and tell her all about your day.”

As they walked down the familiar streets, Lisa kept an eye on the baby, who dozed peacefully, a faint whimper escaping now and then. “I just hope I can manage,” Lisa admitted, more to herself than anyone else. “It’ll be the first time I’ve got to look after her all by myself! I hope she doesn’t get too bored of me.”

Betsy’s small hand found hers. “You’ll be fine, Mummy. Mia loves you and anyway, you’re the only one who can feed her!”

Lisa laughed at that, the anxiety in her chest unfurling a little as she did.

By the time they reached the school gates, the chatter of children and the promise of her favourite tea when she got home had brightened Betsy’s mood. Lisa kissed her daughter quickly before she ran off to join her friends. 

The walk to Underworld was short but filled with quiet anticipation. Lisa’s heart gave a small flutter of nerves as she pushed the pram into the factory. Carla had been expecting them, leaning against her desk with her kimono half hanging off her shoulder and a soft smile lighting up her tired features.

“Hey,” Carla said warmly as she made her way over for a soft kiss. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to come by, but…” she trailed off, smiling as Mia stirred and blinked up at her, “I’m very glad you did.”

Lisa smiled back, gently angling the pram towards Carla so her wife could stroke the baby’s cheek with the back of her finger. “We thought we’d come and say hi, so you can introduce Mia properly to the factory lot. Plus, it might stop me thinking about the pressure of being on my own with her all day.”

Carla’s eyes crinkled as she watched Mia’s tiny fingers curl around the pram blanket. “Well, you two are always very welcome to visit me at work, you know that.”

Before Lisa could respond, the sound of familiar voices filled the space.

“Oh my gosh, look at her!” Sally’s voice rang out as she came rushing into the office. She had a smile stretched wide across her face, her hands immediately hovering as if to scoop Mia up. “She’s gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous!”

Beth appeared next, leaning casually against a chair with a teasing grin on her face. “Oi, don’t let Sally steal her before I get a turn.”

Sean, carrying his usual over-the-top cheer, came bounding over. “Look at those cheeks! Mini Mia is officially the cutest in Weatherfield.”

Lisa laughed, a little shy, as Carla stepped forwards to form a protective shield. “She’s only two weeks old, people. Gentle, remember?”

“Oh, we know how to be gentle,” Sally said, but her eyes were already sparkling with the joy of offering advice. “Though, DS Swain, just a thought - you might want to start scheduling her naps in thirty-minute increments. That way she’ll adjust easier when you’re both back to a normal routine. Trust me, my two thrived on a routine - they really did.”

Lisa’s cheeks warmed, a small laugh escaping. “Thanks, Sally. I think we’re managing the naps… mostly.”

Sally didn’t seem discouraged. “Mostly isn’t good enough, when it comes to raising children, Lisa. You need a solid plan.”

Carla rolled her eyes, stepping towards Lisa and looping their arms together. “Alright, alright, she’s only been in the world five minutes, Sal,” she murmured.

Sean crouched by the pram, pointing at Mia’s tiny hands. “She’s reaching out, trying to grab everything already! Future Underworld boss in the making, I reckon.”

Beth smirked. “If she’s anything like her mum, she’s going to run rings around everyone here.”

After a few more minutes of cooing and gentle teasing, Lisa knew it was time to leave. “We should head home, she’s due a feed soon,” she said softly.

Carla pulled Lisa’s scarf around her neck and adjusted her collar. “Go on then. Don’t stress, alright? You’ll be fine. I love you.”

Lisa pushed the pram out of the factory, waving at Carla and the staff. As they stepped into the winter sunlight, Lisa felt a tug of responsibility but also a quiet pride. Despite Sally using her full title (as she always did), for the first time in a long time, she was actually looking forward to just being Mummy for a while.

----

The afternoon passed in a flurry of small domestic tasks. Lisa made a simple lunch, caught up with some washing and gently held Mia as she napped. She checked the clock often, counting down the minutes until school would end and Betsy would come rushing through the door to tell her about school and her friends.

Carla, meanwhile, had spent the day walking the factory floor with half her mind elsewhere. Every time the phone rang, she hoped it would be Lisa checking in, even though she hadn’t put any pressure on her to. The factory lot laughed and chatted around her, cooing over the photos of Mia that Carla couldn’t stop staring at as she waited to be reunited with her girls.

By the time Carla parked outside the school gates to pick Betsy up, her heart had already begun racing. As soon as Betsy’s small frame appeared, her arms outstretched in a wave, Carla felt a rush of relief and longing all at once.

“Mum!” Betsy called, running into her arms. “I’ve missed Mia so much. And you! Can we go home?”

Carla pulled her in, holding her close. “Sttraight home, lovey, straight home. I’ve missed you all so much. Did you tell all your friends about Mia? Show them the pictures?”

Betsy nodded enthusiastically, chattering about the reactions and questions from her classmates. “They think she’s tiny and amazing and I told them she’s the best baby ever.”

Carla laughed, holding her daughter's hand a little tighter before they turned towards the gate and headed home.

----

As the evening drew in, Lisa put Betsy to bed, tucking her in under the soft quilt. The little girl muttered a sleepy, “Goodnight, Mummy,” and drifted off almost before Lisa had managed to close the door behind her.

She tiptoed across the landing to their bedroom. Carla was already there, lying back with Mia resting on her chest, her hand gently rubbing the baby’s back. Her eyes were soft, almost distant, but glimmering with tears.

“I missed you,” Carla whispered, her lips brushing the top of Mia’s head. Then, noticing Lisa, she added, “I missed you all so much.”

Lisa sat beside her, her hand finding Carla’s. “I know. It’s hard, isn’t it? After the special few weeks we’ve had… our little bubble. Now we have to find our new normal.”

Carla nodded slowly, rocking Mia lightly. “I didn’t realise… how different it would feel, being apart. Even for a few hours.”

Lisa leaned her head against Carla’s shoulder, the weight of the day settling in. “We’ll get used to it. We’ll find our rhythm. It’s just going to take some time.”

Carla smiled faintly, gazing into her wife's honest, green eyes. “Yeah… time and a lot of patience.”

For a while, they stayed like that: Carla with Mia on her chest, Lisa resting against her, their hands pressed together and the soft rise and fall of their breathing filling the quiet bedroom. Outside, January’s wind rattled the windowpanes, but inside, their warmth and closeness was a shield against the chill.

“I love you,” Lisa whispered.

Carla pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Me too.”

Mia stirred slightly, letting out a tiny squeak. Carla’s hand covered her gently once again, rubbing her back. Lisa smiled, watching the familiar, tender moment and knowing that, despite the changes ahead, they would face them together.

“We’ll get used to all this,” Lisa said softly, her voice firm but gentle.

Carla’s eyes glistened with emotion; a soft nod was the only answer needed in the quiet bedroom where they lay with the person who had changed everything without even realising it.

Chapter Text

Mia was three weeks old and the days had blurred into a haze of soft cries, tiny sighs, and the warm weight of her curled against either Carla or Lisa's chests. The house had slowed into a rhythm that was both exhausting and precious, every moment marked by the presence of their newborn. Lisa found herself staring at Mia endlessly: her soft hair, the tiny whites of her nails, the way her lips puckered and her eyebrows creased slightly when she dreamed.

Carla leaned over the back of the sofa one afternoon, resting her chin on Lisa’s shoulder as Mia lay sprawled across her mother’s chest. “You realise you’ve been watching her sleep for twenty minutes straight?” she murmured with a smile.

Lisa’s lips curved into a sheepish grin. “I can’t help it. She makes the most gorgeous little faces - like she’s dreaming about something brilliant.”

Carla kissed her temple. “Probably dreaming about how spoiled she already is.”

Mia shifted, letting out a small squeak that made both women melt instantly. Lisa smoothed her hand over the baby’s back, her heart swelling. “She’s growing so fast already. Look at her cheeks, Carla. I swear they’ve filled out since yesterday.”

Carla chuckled softly. “Don’t remind me. I want her to stay this tiny forever.”

----

Mornings had developed their own rhythm. After the blur of night feeds and nappy changes, Lisa would settle Mia in her Moses basket in the living room whilst she went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Betsy would wander downstairs still half asleep and rubbing her eyes, before lighting up at the sight of her baby sister.

“Morning, Mia,” she’d whisper, leaning over to gently kiss the baby's head. “Did you have good dreams?”

Lisa always paused, heart swelling at the sight of her eldest bending so naturally into the role of big sister. “She definitely dreams about you,” Lisa said one morning, sliding a plate of toast onto the table.

Betsy grinned, tugging her dressing gown tighter around herself. “Good. Then she won't forget I’m here.”

After breakfast, Carla would kiss everyone goodbye and head to the factory just before Lisa and the girls walked to school together. The air was so cold it stung their lungs as they breathed but, wrapped up warmly, Lisa found such comfort in the ritual of it all. She would push Mia’s pram slowly along the pavement with Betsy skipping at her side, pointing out birds or the frost glittering on car roofs. The world, and her mind, felt quiet in those moments.

One morning, Betsy tugged on Lisa’s hand. “Mum, please can I help push the pram?”

Lisa smiled, letting her place her small hands on the handle next to her own. Together they guided Mia down the street, Betsy beaming with responsibility. “See, Mia,” she said solemnly, “I’m helping too.”

Lisa couldn’t resist laughing softly. “She’s lucky to have you, monkey.”

----

Evenings were their own kind of magic. Lisa loved bath time most of all. She would fill the little baby tub, checking the water temperature carefully, while Carla fetched the soft towels they'd warmed on the radiator. Mia would scream and flail her arms at first, tiny fists clenched, before settling into the warmth of the water.

“She’s starting to like it,” Lisa whispered one evening, watching Mia kick her feet lightly.

Carla crouched beside her, smiling. “That’s ‘cause she knows she's got her mums here with her. Look at her face.”

Mia’s expression shifted into something resembling peace, her lips twitching as Lisa gently poured water over her stomach. Lisa laughed, the sound echoing softly around the bathroom. “Did you see that?”

“Course I did,” Carla said warmly. “She looks like she'd be smiling if she knew how. She likes it when you do that.”

Afterwards, they would wrap Mia in her towel, Betsy hurrying over to help pat her dry. “There we are,” she said proudly, her little hands careful and precise. “You're all nice and dry now and ready for a snuggle.”

“She certainly is,” Lisa agreed, pressing a kiss to the crown of Betsy's head. “You can have the first cuddle tonight if you like.”

----

The front door banged shut one afternoon, and Betsy’s voice filled the hallway before Carla had even had a chance to make it through the door behind her. “Mummy! We're back!” Her rucksack thudded onto the floor as she came running into the living room, cheeks shining from the cold.

Lisa smiled warmly at her. “Hey, love. Good day at school?”

“Yeah,” Betsy said breathlessly, already eyeing the baby. “Can I hold Mia please?”

“Course you can. Sit down properly first.” Lisa adjusted herself carefully, moving Mia into Carla’s waiting arms while Betsy climbed onto the sofa. Carla settled down next to her and helped guide the baby into her sister’s lap.

“There we go. Remember to rest her neck in your elbow there,” Carla instructed gently.

Betsy nodded, her arms steadying as she gazed down at Mia. “Hi, baby,” she whispered. “I learned about Ancient Egypt today. We saw a video about kings called Pharaohs and we learnt a bit about mummies but we'll do some more on that next week. They're not mummies like our mummies though. Maybe when you're eight you'll learn about them too.”

Carla and Lisa watched the scene with awe and tenderness, holding on tightly to each other’s hands as they did.

They spent the evening in that warm cocoon, the girls side by side, Mia making tiny snuffling noises while Betsy stroked her blanket with gentle fingers and tried hard to work out what colour her sister's eyes were.

----

After Betsy had been tucked into bed with a story and a kiss, the house fell quiet again.

Lisa sat back on the sofa, cradling Mia in the low glow of the lamp that lit the room. Carla returned from the kitchen with two mugs of tea, putting one down on the table beside Lisa before curling up next to her.

For a while they sat in silence, just listening to Mia’s soft breathing and watching her eyelashes flutter as she slept. Then Lisa spoke, her voice quiet. “Carla?”

“Mm?”

Lisa’s eyes stayed on Mia as she spoke. “I really love her.”

“Well that's just as well, babe. You are her mum after all,” Carla joked but, seeing Lisa's attempt at a smile and realising this was going to be a more serious discussion, she softened her voice and dropped her gaze to the snuffling baby in her wife's arms. “Me too.”

“I keep thinking about how much I missed with Betsy. All of this. Just… staring at her. Bathing her, feeding her. Making her feel safe. All the late night cuddles when she was this tiny.” Her throat tightened, and she pressed her lips together before continuing. “I love this so much that my heart actually hurts sometimes. But there are moments when it feels… bittersweet, I suppose. Like I’m finally getting to do all this but I didn’t get to do it for Betsy. D’you think it's okay that I feel guilty for that?”

Carla reached out, rubbing her hand up and down the blonde's shoulder. “Hey. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“I can’t help it,” Lisa admitted, blinking back sudden tears. “I really… I wish I’d been there for her, too.”

Carla tilted her face until their eyes met. Her voice was steady but soft. “Listen to me. You are the most important person in Betsy’s life. She adores you. She runs home every day bursting to tell you everything. That’s what matters - not what you missed before. You’re her mum, Lisa. Every bit of her knows it.”

Lisa let out a shaky breath, brushing her thumb over Mia’s tiny hand. “You really believe that?”

“I know that,” Carla said firmly. “And as for Mia - these days, this little newborn bubble we’re living in - it won’t last forever. Soon she'll be Betsy's age and rabbiting our ears off about anything and everything. I don't want you to look back on this special time and feel like you wasted it worrying about things you can't change, even though I know how much you wish you could. You deserve to enjoy these amazing girls we've got. Both of them.”

A few tears spilled over, but the weight in Lisa's chest eased a little at her wife's words. She shifted Mia so that Carla could see her better, her tiny lips pursing in sleep. “She’s so perfect, isn't she?”

Carla leaned in, kissing Lisa’s cheek softly and then Mia's dark, fluffy hair. “So are you. And so’s Betsy. I’m the luckiest woman on the planet.”

Lisa smiled through the tears, leaning into her wife. “You always know just what to say to stop my hormonal brain from spiralling.”

“Not always,” Carla murmured, stroking Mia’s arm gently, “but this I know for sure: you’re an amazing mum. There's nothing you wouldn't do for these lucky, lucky girls and when they close their eyes and go to sleep, just like they are now, that's all they'll ever need to know.”

Chapter Text

The evening had settled in early, with a thick winter darkness pressing against the windows. Lisa moved quietly and slowly around the kitchen, careful not to wake Mia who lay fast asleep in her Moses basket.

She stirred the pan, glanced over at her tiny daughter and smiled. The basket was pulled close enough that Lisa could just see the steady rise and fall of Mia’s chest, fists tucked up tightly under her chin and her mouth slack in perfect trust.

It had been a long day - school run, endless feeds, a short walk around the cobbles to stretch her legs and then picking Betsy up again - but in between the everyday routine, Lisa had been planning carefully. She wanted everything to be right. The surprise waiting for Carla was about sharing. About letting Carla feel the closeness Lisa felt every time Mia latched on and looked up at her with those deliciously dark, searching eyes.

The sound of the front door lock pulled her from her thoughts and, a moment later, Carla’s voice echoed from the hall.

“Hello? I’m home!”

Lisa’s heart tugged at the familiar sound, low and husky with fatigue but threaded with affection. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and leaned into the doorway just as Carla came into view, shrugging off her coat.

“That smells amazing,” Carla said, dropping her handbag onto the hall table and nodding towards the kitchen. She looked tired, her hair a little mussed from the scarf she'd wrapped tightly around it, but her smile softened the lines around her eyes.

“It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes,” Lisa said, grinning.

Carla raised an eyebrow, slipping out of her boots. “You cooked? How'd you manage that at the same time as keeping two little humans in check?” She wandered over and pressed a kiss to Lisa’s lips, lingering just a second longer than usual, like she was reluctant to break the contact.

Lisa brushed a thumb across her cheek. “You okay?”

Carla exhaled, the sound heavy but not unhappy. “Missed you. Missed her.” Her eyes drifted towards the basket. “How’s my littlest girl been?” she asked, bending to press a gentle kiss to Mia's forehead and breathe in her intoxicating baby smell. 

“Perfect. She's out like a light. For now, anyway,” Lisa said softly. Then, with a flicker of nerves, she added, “And… I might have a surprise for you.”

Carla’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Are we having pudding with this gourmet meal?”

Lisa chuckled. “Better than that, but you’ll have to sit down to find out.”

Carla gave her a suspicious look, then made her way into the living room, sinking onto the sofa with all the grace of someone who’d been on her feet all day. She leaned back, closing her eyes. “Alright then, surprise me.”

Lisa hesitated for a moment, then bent to lift Mia from her basket. The baby stirred, stretching like a cat before snuffling back into her mother’s neck. Lisa pressed a kiss to the side of her head and carried her gently over to the sofa.

“You, er… fancy giving Mia her feed before tea?” Lisa asked lightly.

Carla’s eyes opened instantly, confusion flickering across her face. “What do you mean? I can’t, Lise. You’re feeding her yourself.”

Lisa sat down next to her, readjusting Mia carefully. “I am, but… I ordered a pump… bottles… a steriliser. They came this morning. I’ve been giving it a go today and I just put the first bottle in the warmer so it's ready.”

For several seconds, Carla just stared. The words seemed to hang in the air between them. Then, slowly, her mouth parted. “You… you did what?”

Lisa’s smile was small but steady. “I realised something a few days ago. Every time I feed her, I feel this rush of… closeness. It’s ours, you know? And I thought… you deserve that too. I wanted you to have a chance to feel that.”

Carla’s eyes glistened suddenly, the impact of Lisa’s words hitting her squarely in the chest. “Lise, I never even thought- I just assumed that was always going to be your thing. I didn’t… I don’t even know how-”

“You’ll be brilliant,” Lisa interrupted softly, laying a reassuring hand on her knee. “She might not take it straight away, but it’s worth trying. And if she does…” She trailed off, her throat thick with emotion.

Carla’s gaze darted to the kitchen. “You’ve really got one ready?”

Lisa nodded. “Already warmed. I put it in when you texted to say you were leaving.”

Carla swallowed hard, her breath shuddering out. “God, Lise… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just try.”

----

A minute later, Lisa handed Carla the small bottle, steam faintly fogging the teat. Mia had begun to stir, her little mouth rooting against Lisa’s collarbone and making soft, urgent sounds.

Carla looked down at the bottle with suspicion. “She’ll hate it. She’s never had one before. What if I mess it up?”

Lisa brushed a hand down her wife’s hair. “You won’t. Just hold her like you always do and she’ll tell you the rest.”

Heart hammering, Carla took Mia into her arms. The baby squirmed, protesting softly until Carla tucked her close, one arm supporting her head and the other guiding the bottle towards her mouth.

“Here you go, darling,” Carla whispered, her voice quivering, “see what you think.”

There was a tense pause as Mia’s lips brushed against the teat uncertainly. Both women held their breath. Then - just like that - the baby latched on and began sucking in steady, rhythmic pulls.

Carla froze. “She’s- she’s doing it.”

Lisa’s smile widened, tears stinging her own eyes. “Told you.”

Carla stared down, utterly transfixed. Mia’s cheeks moved with each pull, a trickle of milk glistening underneath her lip, and her tiny hand curled into Carla’s jumper as though trying to pull herself even closer. The sound of her swallowing filled the quiet room.

“Oh my God,” Carla breathed. Her vision blurred instantly, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked. “Lise, she’s… I'm feeding her.”

Lisa pressed a hand to her back, watching them both with aching tenderness. “Look how settled she is with you.”

Carla couldn’t speak anymore. Her chest ached with love, with awe, with the raw flood of something she couldn’t put into words. She bent her head close, letting her tears fall silently onto Mia’s blanket. The baby didn’t stir; she was too content, too busy with the steady rhythm of feeding as she stared soul-deep into Carla's eyes without blinking.

Lisa watched, her own eyes wet, until Carla finally lifted her gaze. Their eyes met, and in that look Lisa read everything Carla couldn’t say: thank you for this. Thank you for letting me feel it. Thank you for making me her mum in this way too.

Lisa leaned forward and pressed her lips to Carla’s, their kiss tender and lingering over Mia’s tiny head. “I love you,” she whispered.

There was nothing Carla could do but nod.

----

The feed stretched on, quiet and sacred. Carla hardly moved, afraid to break the spell. She marvelled at the weight of her daughter in her arms, the way her small body pressed so completely against her, the warmth radiating through the blanket. Every tiny swallow sent another wave of emotion crashing through her.

Lisa simply sat close, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, her eyes never leaving them. It was everything she’d hoped for. The bond she’d wanted Carla to feel was written all over her wife’s tear-streaked face.

When Mia finally slowed, milk still dribbling from the corner of her mouth, Carla carefully pulled the bottle away. Lisa handed her a muslin and together they guided Mia upright against Carla’s shoulder. The baby gave a small hiccup before releasing a delicate burp, settling again with a sigh.

Carla laughed through her tears, kissing Mia’s soft head. “Clever girl. You’re just so perfect.”

Lisa leaned her head against Carla’s shoulder, slipping an arm around her back. “See? Natural.”

Carla gave a shaky laugh. “Natural? I don't know about that. But Lise…” She shook her head, overwhelmed. “That was just… the best.”

Lisa kissed her damp cheek, whispering into her ear. “That’s why I wanted you to have it. I couldn't keep it all to myself.”

Carla turned, catching her lips in a tender kiss. “You’re incredible, d’you know that? You make us a family.”

Lisa’s heart swelled. She glanced down at Mia, now fast asleep again against Carla’s chest, and felt a peace settle over her. “Come on, that casserole's going cold.”

Carla tightened her hold, eyes shining. “I don't want to let her go.”

Lisa kissed her shoulder. “Then don't,” she said, “I'll bring you a bowl.”

Chapter Text

The house was quiet, but not peaceful. It was quiet in the way that only came between cries, when Lisa held her breath waiting for the next wail to pierce the air. It was nearly three in the morning.

Mia had been unsettled all night. Fed, changed, held close - every box ticked - and still she squirmed and fussed, her little face screwed up and fists balled tightly as she made her feelings known.

Lisa rocked the tiny baby in her arms, pacing slowly across the living room. Her dressing gown hung loosely around her shoulders and her hair was pulled into a haphazard bun. “Shhhh, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “It’s alright. Mummy’s here.”

Mia’s cries softened for a moment, only to ratchet back up as soon as Lisa paused her step. The sound reverberated off the walls, filling the small hours with its raw insistence. Lisa sighed, kissing the baby’s warm cheek. “You’ve got lungs like your mum's, haven’t you?” she murmured.

A voice came from the doorway. “I heard that.”

Lisa turned. Carla leaned against the doorframe in her pyjamas; her dark hair was rumpled from sleep and her eyes were heavy but alert. She made her way into the room, rubbing at her face. “Swap with me, Lise. You’ve been at this for hours.”

“I’m fine,” Lisa said automatically, though her body sagged with fatigue. "You go back to bed - you're the one who's go to work in the morning."

Carla tilted her head, unconvinced. “You look ready to drop. Give her here.”

Lisa hesitated, then slowly handed Mia over, brushing her hand down the baby’s soft arm before letting go. Carla gathered her in close, adjusting instinctively. “Alright, little lady,” she said softly, swaying on the spot. “It’s me now. Don’t start crying about it.”

Mia cried anyway, a loud wail that made Carla wince.

Lisa collapsed onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands. “She just won’t settle. I don’t know what else to try.”

Carla looked down at the wriggling bundle in her arms. “Maybe she just wants a change of tune.” She began humming - something soft that she half remembered from nowhere in particular - and rocked from side to side. Her movements were awkward at first, but then Mia’s cries softened and her fists loosened slightly as she burrowed against Carla’s skin.

Lisa peeked through her fingers. “What are you humming?”

“Dunno. Some old tune from years ago, probably.” Carla shrugged, still swaying. “Doesn’t matter. She likes it.”

Mia gave a small hiccup, then a dramatic burp that made both women laugh despite themselves.

“Very ladylike,” Carla said dryly, patting her back. “That's all you, Lise.”

Lisa snorted. “Don’t you dare blame my genes!”

Carla grinned, her eyes soft even through the exhaustion. “She’s definitely inherited your love of my koala hugs.”

Mia gave a squeaky sigh, her cries settling into whimpers as she nuzzled under Carla’s chin. Slowly, her breathing evened out.

Carla froze. “See. She’s calming down.”

Lisa leaned back against the cushions, relief washing over her. “You’re such a natural with her.”

“Natural, my arse,” Carla whispered, barely daring to breathe as she looked down at the baby. “I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.”

Lisa’s eyes softened. “Well whatever it is, it's exactly what she needed. Look at her - she’s gone quiet.”

Carla rocked gently, her own heartbeat slowing as Mia’s did. “This is mad. One minute she’s screaming the house down and the next she’s out cold. No wonder new parents always look shattered.”

“We're part of the club now,” Lisa murmured with her eyes closed.

----

The clock ticked on, the quiet of the night broken only by the faint rhythm of Mia’s breaths. Carla sank onto the sofa beside Lisa, careful not to jostle the baby. She rested back, staring down at her daughter in wonder.

“She’s so little, i'nt she?” Carla whispered, as if she hadn’t said it a hundred times already. “Feels like I could break her.”

“You won’t,” Lisa said softly, watching them with aching tenderness. “She’s tougher than she looks and you’re gentler than you think.”

Carla gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Gentle isn’t the first word most people’d use about me.”

“It’s the one I’d use,” Lisa replied simply.

Carla’s throat tightened. She pressed her lips to Mia’s soft hair, breathing in the soft, sweet smell of her and closing her eyes as the warmth of her daughter seeped into her bones. The exhaustion in her body was heavy, but so was the love - dense and overwhelming and more than she could ever have imagined.

----

Just after five in the morning, the baby stirred again, giving a little squeak before nestling deeper into Carla. She didn’t cry, just shifted, making the faintest snuffling sound.

Carla chuckled under her breath. “Even her noises are bossy. Just like her mummy.”

Lisa swatted her lightly on the arm. “Oi.”

Carla smirked, but her eyes stayed fixed on the tiny face pressed against her. “I mean it as a compliment.”

The first hints of dawn crept through the curtains, pale light touching the edges of the room. Lisa watched it spread, then looked back at her wife and child. Her chest swelled with a quiet, steady joy.

“Even nights like this,” she said softly, “I wouldn’t trade them. Not for anything.”

Carla looked up, her eyes tired but luminous. “Me neither.”

Lisa leaned over, brushing her lips against Carla’s. “We’ll survive the sleepless nights.”

Carla smiled, cradling Mia closer. “More than survive. We’ll remember them. The way she fits right here. The way she needs us.” She kissed Mia’s head again, her voice breaking. “I’ll never forget this.”

Lisa rested her head against Carla’s shoulder, their little girl safe between them as the morning light grew stronger. The world outside was waking up, but for them, everything they needed was right there.

----

By the time the first birds began their tentative chirping outside, Carla and Lisa were both weary beyond belief. The kind of bone-deep tired that made their limbs ache and their eyes sting, yet their hearts still felt impossibly full.

Lisa yawned, stretching her arms as Mia stirred once more in Carla’s hold. “I think we should go back to bed,” she murmured, her voice soft with exhaustion.

Carla nodded, careful not to disturb the baby. “Yeah… yeah, I think you’re right.”

Together, they maneuvered across the living room, a delicate choreography honed by weeks of tiny adjustments and quiet patience. Carla’s arms remained a cradle of warmth, her gaze never leaving Mia, while Lisa supported her gently.

Once in the bedroom, they eased her onto the bed between them. Her little chest rose and fell in a shallow, content rhythm. Carla lay back slowly, exhaling, and Lisa settled across from her, leaning up on her elbow.

“You were amazing tonight,” Lisa whispered, her hand finding Carla’s.

Carla shook her head, a tired laugh escaping her lips. “You know, I didn't even realise it but I think there was a little part of me that always thought she wouldn't like me. Wouldn't… I don't know… bond like she would with you. But she… she’s amazing. And I think she really knows I'm her mum too. Does that sound mad?”

Lisa’s smile was soft, tears glinting in her eyes despite her own exhaustion. “You are her mum, Carla. Mia knows it. She's always known it. You feel it, don’t you? The closeness?”

Carla nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to Lisa’s shoulder. “I feel it. I didn’t realise how much I felt it until tonight. Just… having her in my arms, knowing she trusts me…”

The baby stirred again, murmuring softly, before stretching and turning her tiny face towards Carla. Without hesitation, Carla nudged her closer and whispered, “It’s alright, little one. You’re safe with us.”

Lisa watched, her heart swelling.

Mia hiccupped again, letting out a tiny squeal that was part complaint, part satisfaction. Carla laughed softly, shaking her head. “She’s definitely got your pout, Lise, but somehow it’s adorable.”

Lisa chuckled.

Every so often, the baby made tiny movements, rustling between them, and Carla whispered her little reassurances, while Lisa rested a hand lightly on the baby’s tummy and rubbed patterns there with her thumb.

As the heating clicked back on and the room began to warm again, three Swains lay together, wrapped in exhaustion, love and the quiet triumph of a night survived.

Chapter Text

Carla hummed tunelessly under her breath as she stirred the pan. In the living room, Lisa sat on the sofa with Mia tucked against her breast, the rhythmic suck and swallow of feeding filling the air. It was a cosy, ordinary evening but Lisa couldn’t help noticing the silence from the other side of the room.

Betsy was kneeling on the rug with dolls scattered around her, but she wasn’t really playing. She picked one up, brushed its hair half-heartedly and then put it down again. Her shoulders hunched slightly as she stared at the floor. Normally, she’d be chattering about school or pestering her mums relentlessly for time on the iPad but tonight the room felt too still.

“You alright there, Bets?” Lisa asked softly.

Betsy looked up quickly, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just… playing.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed gently. She knew her daughter too well to be fooled, but she let it slide for the moment. Mia gave a little squeak and Lisa readjusted her, smoothing her tiny hand back into place.

Carla popped her head round the door, wooden spoon in hand. “Tea’ll be ready soon, you two. Bets, you want to set the table for me please?”

“Okay,” Betsy said as she slowly got to her feet. She padded into the kitchen, dragging her heels ever so slightly.

Lisa noticed.

----

At the table, Betsy pushed her pasta around her plate more than she ate it. Carla tried to spark conversation - “So, who did you sit with at lunchtime?” - but Betsy’s replies were short and distracted.

After tea, Lisa settled down on the sofa again with Mia asleep against her shoulder while Carla tidied the kitchen. Betsy clambered up next to her, pressing closely into her side but still unusually distant.

Lisa stroked her daughter's hair, twisting the ends between her fingers. “You’ve been a bit quiet today, monkey. Is something on your mind?”

Betsy shrugged, eyes fixed on Mia’s tiny fist curled against Lisa’s jumper. “No. I’m fine.”

Lisa bent her head, kissing the top of Betsy’s. “Alright. If you say so,” she murmured, but inside her worry deepened.

----

At bedtime, the signs grew clearer. Usually, Betsy tore up the stairs at the promise of a story but tonight she lingered in the living room, using any distraction to avoid going up. Lisa, still carrying Mia, crouched down to her daughter’s height.

“Go on, love. Teeth, pyjamas, the works. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Betsy’s eyes flickered to Mia, then back to Lisa. “But you’ve got the baby.”

Lisa’s heart pinched. “And I’ve got you, too. I’ll be up.”

Betsy nodded reluctantly and made her way upstairs.

----

When Lisa finally laid Mia down in her Moses basket, she slipped quietly up into Betsy’s room. Her daughter was already under the duvet, clutching her favourite cuddly rabbit. Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.

Lisa sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, you. You've been really quiet all day.”

Betsy turned her face towards the wall. “I’m just tired.”

Lisa reached out, stroking her hair gently. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Lisa lay down next to her, curling gently around her daughter's little body. “You don’t seem yourself, Bets, and I don’t like seeing you sad. You can tell me, you know.”

“I don’t want to,” Betsy whispered.

“Why not?”

“’Cause… it might make you upset.”

Lisa’s chest ached. She kissed her daughter’s hair. “Sweetheart, the only thing that upsets me is when I know something’s wrong and you don’t feel like you can tell me. Nothing you say could ever make me love you less. I promise.”

Betsy’s lips trembled, and she clutched her rabbit tighter. “It’s just… you’re always with Mia now. Feeding her and cuddling her and… and it feels like I can't really snuggle with you anymore.”

Lisa’s breath caught. She pulled Betsy closer, tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh, my girl. Thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling that way.”

Betsy sniffled. “It’s like… she cries and everyone runs to her and I… I'm trying to be really good so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh, Betsy.” Lisa’s voice broke. “You don’t have to be extra good for me to notice you. I notice you all the time. You’re still my baby. My heart.”

Betsy buried her face against Lisa’s chest. “But Mia gets all the cuddles.”

Lisa rocked her gently. “She gets lots now because she can’t do anything for herself yet. But you know what? I can give cuddles forever and you can always have them. They’ll never run out.”

There was a long silence before Betsy whispered, “Really?”

“Really.” Lisa kissed her temple firmly. “Nothing will ever change how much I love you. Not Mia being here, not anything. You’re mine: you always will be.”

Betsy relaxed a bit then, her body softening as she melted into Lisa's hold.

Lisa brushed away her tears with her thumb. “Tell you what: how about after school tomorrow, we go to the shops and get something you and I can cook together for when your mum gets home? Whatever you fancy. Sound good?”

Betsy’s eyes lit up, a smile tugging at her mouth. “My choice?”

“Your choice.”

She wriggled closer, her face pressed into Lisa’s neck. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” Lisa kissed her again, holding her until her breathing began to steady. “Now, sleep well, my love. You’ve got school in the morning.”

----

Back downstairs, Lisa found Carla finally resting on the sofa with a mug of tea. One look at Lisa’s face and she put it down, frowning. “What’s happened?”

Lisa sat beside her with a heavy sigh. “Betsy. She’s been feeling pushed out. I had to practically drag it out of her, but she admitted it to me just now.”

Carla’s heart clenched. “Oh, poor kid.”

“She didn’t want to tell me because she thought it’d upset me.” Lisa rubbed her eyes. “Breaks my heart. I've been enjoying spending more time with her so much - taking her to school and picking her up again. But she's right. When we're here, I've always got the baby in my arms and Bets is so good at keeping herself busy that I hadn't realised she was actually getting less of me. We're going to make tea together tomorrow. She perked up at that.”

Carla nodded slowly. “We’ll have to be careful, won’t we? Make sure she doesn’t feel second best.”

“Yeah.” Lisa leaned against her, weary. “I told her it won’t always be like this - the baby won’t always need so much of us, but in the meantime we’ve got to find ways to make sure Betsy still feels centre stage sometimes.” She sighed. “I think I've been a bit naive, darling. I really thought that being at home would mean I'd get to spend more time with Bets but I'm obviously not doing a very good job. I just feel like I'm still trying to learn what Mia needs and that's taking more of my attention than I thought.”

Carla shook her head. “You're taking care of a new baby for the first time, babe - by yourself for most of the day. It isn't anything you've done or not done.” She tapped her fingers against her knee, thinking. “What about me picking her up from school a couple of afternoons a week, like I used to? Just us two. We could grab a hot chocolate before we come home. She’d like that - a bit of quality time?”

Lisa smiled softly. “Yeah. She would.”

“And you could keep bedtime stories just for you and her for a while,” Carla added. “I'll have Mia down here and then you can still have that one-on-one time with Betsy.”

Lisa’s eyes warmed. “That’s a good idea.”

Carla squeezed her hand. “We’ll get the balance right, Lise. It’s new for all of us, but we’ll figure it out.”

Lisa leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder. Across the room, the baby whimpered in her basket, and Lisa glanced over, her heart tugged in two directions at once. “I don’t ever want Betsy to feel like she’s lost us.”

“She hasn’t,” Carla said firmly. “She’s just sharing us now. It’ll take time, but she’ll see she’s still our girl.”

Lisa closed her eyes, letting Carla’s steady voice soothe her. “Yeah. We’ll make sure she does.”

Chapter Text

The Swain household was protected against the drizzly weather: the heating was turned up, Mia dozed in her Moses basket after a feed and Betsy sat at the table sketching a lopsided unicorn in her very best coloured pencils.

Lisa stretched, her back aching from the sofa. “Right, that’s it. If I sit here any longer, I’ll end up moulded into the cushions. I need a brew.”

She made her way to the kitchen, kissing the top of Betsy’s head as she passed. “That’s a good looking unicorn you’ve got there, missy.”

“It’s actually Mia,” Betsy corrected without looking up, “but in unicorn form.”

Lisa laughed. “Of course it is. How silly of me.”

Carla, who had been suspiciously quiet all morning, slipped past Lisa into the living room with a carrier bag tucked under her arm. “You put the kettle on, Lise. I’ll, er, just be sorting something in here.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Sorting what?”

“Just… something.” Carla waved her off, eyes glinting. “Don’t be nosy.”

Lisa narrowed her gaze, but curiosity won out. “Carla Swain, if you’re up to mischief-”

“No mischief. Promise. Just you go and make the tea.”

----

When Lisa returned with two steaming mugs, she stopped short. Spread across the coffee table were neat stacks of glossy photographs. Betsy had abandoned her unicorn drawing and was now leafing through them, squealing at every other picture.

“Mummy, look! It’s when Mia came out of the bath and her hair went all funny!”

Lisa put the mugs down carefully, her breath catching as she saw photo after photo: Mia’s tiny red face at birth; Lisa cradling her against damp skin; Carla holding her for the first time; Betsy’s proud smile as she perched on the bed with the baby in her arms. Christmas morning, with Mia swaddled in a blanket under the tree - Carla's idea after Betsy had declared her the 'best Christmas present ever'. There was even one Lisa hadn’t realised Carla had taken - her dozing on the sofa with the baby asleep on her chest.

“What’s all this?” she whispered.

Carla perched on the arm of the sofa, suddenly shy. “I had some of the pictures printed. Thought we could put them in an album. Something proper - not just on our phones where they’ll get lost.”

Lisa blinked quickly, fighting tears. “Carla…”

“Oh, don't cry, love,” Carla said, embarrassed. “It’s nothing big. I just thought it’d be nice.”

Betsy beamed. “It is big! It’s brilliant! Can I help stick them in please?”

Carla pulled a brand new album from the bag, thick pages edged with silver. “That’s the idea: a family project.”

----

They gathered around the table, Mia still snoozing within arm’s reach. Carla slid the photos across. “Alright, Bets. You’re chief organiser. Where do we start?”

“Here,” Betsy said decisively, plucking out the birth photo. “This has to be the first page ‘cause it’s the start of Mia’s story.”

Lisa’s throat tightened as she looked at it. The memory of that night was still so vivid - as though it wouldn't take her long to be right back there. The fear, the pain, the awe, the overwhelming rush of love when she’d pulled her daughter up to her chest. She touched the corner of the photo with trembling fingers.

Carla’s hand brushed hers gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lisa said thickly. “Just… seeing it like this makes it real all over again.”

Betsy frowned. “It was already real, though, wasn't it?”

Lisa smiled at her daughter’s literalism. “Of course it was, but pictures help you remember. Even when you’re old like us, you can look back and say, ‘That was the day Mia was born.’”

Carla smiled. “Exactly.”

----

They spent the next hour choosing photos and sticking them in, Betsy’s tongue poking out in concentration as she smoothed down each one. She insisted on writing captions, though her spelling was wobbly. Beneath one picture of Carla holding Mia, she scrawled: Mum lukes proud.

Lisa leaned over. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Carla sniffed, pretending to fuss with the glue stick. “Alright, don’t get drippy,” she mumbled, but Lisa saw the rising pink on her cheeks and squeezed her hand under the table.

When they reached the Christmas pictures, Betsy carefully glued in one of herself sitting on the rug, unwrapping a book with Mia cradled against Lisa nearby. “That was my favourite Christmas,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah. ’Cause Mia was there. Even though she just slept and wriggled.”

Lisa’s eyes filled again. “Mine too.”

----

At last the album was nearly full and the final pages were reserved for “what comes next.” Betsy added her unicorn drawing to the back, declaring it an official contribution.

“There,” she said with satisfaction. “Now Mia’s got her life story already.”

Carla chuckled. “It’s only four weeks long, lovey. She’s got a way to go yet.”

“Then we’ll keep adding photos,” Betsy said firmly. “Forever.”

Lisa closed the album gently, running her hand over the cover. “Thank you,” she said to Carla, her voice husky. “You know how much this means.”

Carla looked down. “I wanted us to have something solid. A proper record, not just memories in our heads. Something Betsy and Mia can look at one day and know how loved they were.”

Lisa reached up, cupping her cheek. “How loved they are.” She leaned in and kissed her softly, lingering, before resting her forehead against her wife's.

“Mummy!” Betsy groaned, half laughing, half disgusted. “Not in front of Mia!”

Both women burst out laughing.

----

That night, after Betsy was tucked up and Mia had finally settled, Lisa and Carla sat together on the sofa with the album between them. The house was quiet except for the baby’s gentle breathing.

Lisa turned the pages slowly, tracing every image. “You know, I don't think I had anything like this growing up. No record of who I was or what I looked like as a baby. Just scraps of memories.”

Carla nodded. “Same. Not much to keep hold of. That’s why I wanted this. I want our girls to know they mattered from the very beginning.”

Lisa squeezed her hand. “They will. And when Betsy’s older, she’ll look at this and see she was part of it too - even though we found each other a bit later.”

Carla rested her head on Lisa’s shoulder, her voice soft. “It’s our story, Lise. All four of us.”

Lisa closed the album, holding it to her chest.

They sat there until their eyes began to close. The album was like a promise between them that nothing - no sleepless nights, no worries, no difficult pasts - could ever overshadow the love they had built page by page.

Chapter Text

The only sound was the rhythmic creak of the rocking chair. Lisa sat cradling Mia, the baby’s tiny fists curled under her chin as she drifted in and out of sleep. The weak, watery light crept across the nursery floor, glinting off the mobile that hung above the cot.

For a moment, everything felt suspended: Lisa rocking gently, the faint warmth of Mia’s breath against her collarbone. These were the hours she had promised herself she wouldn’t take for granted. After missing so much from Betsy’s early years, she was determined to memorise every little thing: the weight of a newborn on her chest, the delicate snuffles Mia made in her sleep, the soft, milky smell of her.

She had just begun to let her own eyes close briefly when her phone, abandoned on the changing table, started buzzing. Lisa reached for it one handed, careful not to disturb the baby too much.

“DS Swain?” came the voice down the line.

Lisa blinked. It was Sergeant Haines - one of her colleagues at the station. For a split second, she was disoriented. She wasn’t DS Swain right now, she was just a mum with her hair thrown back in a messy bun and baby dribble on her shoulder. Still, the title triggered something automatic in her.

“Haines. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing urgent. Just - really sorry to bother you while you’re off - we’ve hit a snag on those assaults you closed last year. I wondered if you remembered anything about the pattern with the injuries.”

Lisa adjusted Mia against her shoulder, standing to pace the room. The movement soothed the baby, who let out a contented sigh. Lisa’s mind, though, was already racing. She could picture the case file, the witness statements, the A&E reports with their grim photos of deep purple bruising. The memory of the incidents came back with sharp clarity.

“You’re looking at the left-sided impacts again, aren’t you?” she said.

A pause on the line. “That’s exactly it.”

“Check the CCTV from the off-licence on Hilton Street. One of the victims came in just before the assault and there was a bloke following them out but we could never identify him. He was shorter than the others we had in custody. I’d bet good money he’s the missing piece.”

When all the information had been shared, Haines gave a low whistle. “Knew you’d remember. Thanks, Lisa. Sorry again for calling you. I know you should be putting your feet up.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

But when the call ended, Lisa stood in the middle of the nursery, unsettled. Her heart was beating too fast. She’d felt the rush she always did when the puzzle pieces began to click into place. It had been instinctive, like muscle memory. For a few minutes, she hadn’t been thinking about nappies or feeds or the laundry piling up in the basket. She’d been Detective Sergeant Swain again and that scared her.

She sank back onto the chair, brushing her lips across Mia’s soft crown. “What am I doing, eh? You’re only a few weeks old and your daft mummy’s already thinking about CCTV and injury patterns.”

The baby fidgeted in her sleep, blissfully unaware of her mother’s turmoil.

----

Carla popped home just after noon, letting herself in in her usual rush to make sure she could spend every second of her lunch break with the baby she missed like air. She shook the drizzle from her coat and called out, “Lise? You still here or have you escaped to Roy's?”

“Up here,” Lisa called down.

Carla stepped into the nursery and stopped. Lisa was still in the rocking chair with her phone in one hand, the baby on her chest and a faraway expression.

“Blimey,” Carla said, arching a brow. “That’s a picture. DS Swain in full flow, balancing a newborn like it’s part of the job description.”

Lisa looked up guiltily. “I wasn’t… well, I was. The station rang.”

Carla kissed the baby's dark hair, followed by her wife's forehead and then leaned against the cot. “The station? Already? What, did they run out of staples without you there?”

“They needed advice on a case,” Lisa admitted. “One I worked before I went on leave. I just… answered a few questions.”

Carla’s smirk softened into something more knowing. “And how did that feel?”

Lisa hesitated, looking down at the baby’s tiny head tucked under her chin. “Like I shouldn’t have enjoyed it but I did. Too much.”

Carla knelt down, resting her arms on Lisa's knees. “Lise, you don’t stop being a detective just because you’re on maternity leave. That part of you doesn’t vanish.”

“I know, but…” Lisa trailed off, pressing a kiss into Mia’s hair. “What if it means I’m not giving her all of me? I missed so much with Betsy. I swore I wouldn’t let anything steal a second from Mia and now here I am, rattling off suspect details while she’s barely a month old.”

Carla reached up, tracing a finger down the blonde's cheek. “You’re giving her all of you. Every time you hold her, feed her, rock her like this. But you’re still you, Lise. A brilliant copper as well as a brilliant mum. One phone call doesn’t change that.”

Lisa’s throat tightened. “It felt good, though. Too good. Like slipping back into my old skin.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Carla asked gently. “You’re allowed to be both. Detective and mum. Wife and officer. It’s not all or nothing.”

Lisa looked down at Mia, who was stirring now, making little squeaks of protest. She moved her carefully, patting her back until the baby settled again. “I just don’t want to blink and realise I’ve let these days go. They’re so… fleeting. We’ll never get them back.”

Carla’s eyes softened, a rare fragility in her expression. “We won’t. But you won’t lose them either, Lise, because you’re here. You’re present. One phone call doesn’t mean you’re disappearing off into case files and forgetting us. It just means your brain’s still sharp, and thank God for that because in between the broken nights and trying to parent the factory lot as well, I know I'm not firing on all cylinders.”

That earned a laugh from Lisa, shaky but real. “You’ve got an answer for everything, haven’t you?”

Carla smiled. “I try.”

Mia began to fuss in earnest, her tiny fists waving. Lisa stood to jiggle her gently, murmuring reassuring hushes into her ear. The rhythm of it grounded her again, pulling her back into the present moment.

Carla watched, pride evident in her gaze. “Look at you. Switching from CID mode to baby whisperer in two seconds flat.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, but the compliment warmed her. “She’s the only case I want to solve right now.”

“Exactly,” Carla stood, moving closer and slipping an arm around Lisa’s waist, “and you’re bloody good at it.” She brushed her lips against Lisa’s temple. “Don’t beat yourself up for being good at your job as well.”

Lisa leaned into the embrace, closing her eyes for a moment. The tension in her chest eased.

“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured.

“I usually am,” Carla teased, then softened. “We’ll find the balance, Lise. It won’t always feel like this. You’ll go back when you’re ready, and we’ll figure it out together. But for now? Just… let yourself be here.”

Lisa looked down at Mia again, her daughter’s face scrunched in sleepy determination as she rooted for food. She smiled despite herself. “Yeah. Here is pretty good.”

Carla laughed. “Here is bloody brilliant.”

----

They spent the rest of the lunch break together in the kitchen, Mia asleep in Carla's arms while Lisa made them sandwiches. Carla kept up a stream of gentle chatter, steering them back towards the ordinary: what they’d have for tea, whether the washing machine sounded funny again, if Lisa fancied watching a film later once the girls were down.

Normal life. Safe, steady and full of tiny moments that were theirs.

Lisa caught Carla’s hand as she passed her the salad cream. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For reminding me I can be both. That I don’t have to cut myself in half.”

Carla squeezed her fingers. “You don’t. You just have to be you. That’s more than enough.”

----

When Carla eventually got up to leave, kissing Lisa goodbye at the door and carefully passing the baby back to her, Mia let out a loud, unexpected burp. Both women burst out laughing.

“There you go,” Carla said, grinning. “Even Mia agrees. Case closed.”

Lisa shook her head, smiling as she scooped the baby up to her shoulder. “Case closed,” she echoed softly, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

And with that, she shut the door, slipped her phone into a drawer out of sight and carried Mia back up to the rocking chair. The world could wait.

Chapter Text

The morning light streamed through the front window, pale and wintry as Lisa sat cross-legged on the sofa with Mia in her lap, humming a tuneless melody while she folded a muslin square. The baby blinked up at her, round eyes darting, fists curled as though she werebconducting an orchestra only she could hear.

Carla, meanwhile, was on her third circuit of the living room. She had already straightened the cushions twice, wiped down the coffee table and was now inspecting the mantelpiece as though the health visitor might run a gloved finger across it.

“She's coming to weigh the baby, not to judge your dusting,” Lisa said mildly, tucking the muslin into the nappy caddy.

Carla shot her a look. “You don’t know that. These people, they’ve got checklists. Tick boxes. Probation officers in cardigans.”

Lisa laughed softly. “Carla, she’s not here to catch us out. She just wants to make sure Mia’s doing well.”

“That’s what worries me,” Carla muttered, rubbing at an invisible mark on the picture frame of their wedding photo. “What if she’s not? What if we’ve been doing it all wrong and she tells us Mia’s underweight, or we’re spoiling her, or-”

“Carla.” Lisa’s voice was gentle but firm. “Look at her.”

Carla glanced over. Mia was gurgling up at Lisa, little legs kicking, as content as any six-week-old could be. Lisa bent to kiss their daughter’s soft hair. “Does she look like she’s suffering?”

Carla’s shoulders slumped. “No. She looks… perfect.”

“Exactly.” Lisa grinned, an easy calmness in her face that surprised them both. “We’re doing fine.”

----

There was a knock on the door just after ten. Carla almost jumped, smoothing her jumper as if she’d been caught out. Lisa rose steadily, shifting Mia against her shoulder, and opened the door.

“Hello, Lisa? I’m Julie. I'm sorry your usual health visitor wasn't able to make it today but hopefully I'll do,” said the woman, smiling warmly. She was in her fifties, with kind eyes and a canvas satchel hanging from one arm.

“Come in,” Lisa said, stepping aside. “This is my wife, Carla.”

Carla offered a hand that was just a little too brisk, her smile tight. Julie didn’t seem to notice.

Once inside, she set up her scales on the coffee table, talking gently as she unpacked. “And this must be Mia. Oh, isn’t she alert! Six weeks old now - that's right isn't it?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, her pride quiet but unmistakable. She laid Mia carefully on the scales, murmuring reassurance as the baby squirmed at the feel of cold plastic against her skin.

Julie noted down the numbers. “She’s gaining beautifully. Right on track.”

Carla exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she'd been holding. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very good,” Julie assured her. She got out her measuring tape, ran it along the baby's length and made another note note on her form before looking up. “And how’s feeding going?”

Lisa dressed Mia back in her sleepsuit, making quick work of the poppers so that soon the baby was resting comfortably in the crook of her arm. “She latches well. Sometimes she’s cluster feeding in the evenings but nothing unmanageable. She usually settles afterwards.”

Julie nodded approvingly. “That’s exactly what we’d expect.”

Carla, perched on the edge of the armchair, jumped in quickly. “And we’ve been sterilising everything. Bottles, dummies - well, Lisa’s mostly breastfeeding, but sometimes I give her a bottle if… And we’ve got the thermometer, the vitamin drops-”

Julie smiled. “You’re very prepared.”

Lisa caught Carla’s eye and gave a little smile - gentle and amused. Carla pursed her lips, as though daring her to laugh.

----

The questions went on: sleeping routines, nappy counts, whether Mia startled at loud noises. Lisa answered each steadily, describing the night feeds without a flicker of nerves. Carla kept interjecting - “She usually does a three hour stretch between one and five” or “The cot's next to our bed so she’s right there” - until Lisa laid a hand briefly on her knee. A quiet it's okay.

Julie finally packed away her scales and zipped up her bag. “She’s thriving. You’re both doing wonderfully. Try not to worry too much; babies don’t come with manuals, just needs and Mia’s clearly getting hers met with love.”

Carla swallowed. She nodded but didn’t trust her voice.

When Julie left, Lisa shut the door and leaned against it with a sigh. “See? Not so bad.”

Carla stood in the middle of the living room, arms folded, staring at Mia in Lisa’s arms. “I thought she was going to say we were failing. I kept waiting for it.”

Lisa stepped forward, resting Mia against her shoulder. “Failing? Carla, look at her. She’s safe, she’s warm, she’s growing. How could that be failing?”

Carla pressed a hand to her forehead. “Because I… Well, I’ve been judged before, haven’t I? For how I live, the choices I’ve made. When you’ve been called useless enough times, you start to believe someone’s going to walk in and prove it’s true.”

Lisa’s chest ached. She shifted Mia gently and reached out, cupping Carla’s cheek. “You are the best mum she could have. No clipboard in the world can measure that. I should know because I see it every time you hold her.”

Carla’s eyes glistened, and she bent her head, pressing her forehead briefly to Lisa’s.

----

Later, when Mia was settled in her basket, Lisa watched Carla stroke their daughter’s tiny hand with one careful finger. There was still worry in her face, but softer now, tempered by relief.

“You know,” Lisa said quietly, “I was sure I’d be the nervous wreck today. But for once… I wasn’t.”

Carla gave a rueful smile. “We’re taking turns then, are we?”

“Looks like it.”

They both laughed softly, and Lisa slipped an arm around her wife’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“Hey,” Carla said after a moment, her voice thick. “I’m proud of you, you know. The way you handled that. You looked so… sure.”

Lisa kissed her temple. “And I’m proud of you. Because you care so much. That’s what makes you such a great mum.”

Carla let out a shaky laugh, blinking hard. “Can I blame hormones too, even though I'm not the one who was pregnant?”

Lisa smiled, holding her close as Mia sighed in her sleep. “Absolutely.”

Chapter Text

Just as Lisa was finishing folding the washing, her phone vibrated from the table. She glanced at the display, expecting Carla to say she was about to come home for lunch, but her stomach tightened when she saw the school’s number.

“Hello?” she said, already bracing herself.

“Mrs. Swain?” came the secretary’s voice, “it’s Donna calling from St. Mary’s. I'm afraid Betsy’s been taken unwell. She had some quite severe stomach pains and fainted. She's hit her head, I'm afraid, and we’ve had to call an ambulance as a precaution. She’s on her way to Weatherfield General now with Mrs Porter.”

Lisa’s heart lurched. “She fainted?”

“Yes, but she’s conscious now and talking. Don’t worry, she’s in good hands. If you left now, you'd probably arrive not long after Betsy does.”

Lisa hung up, her fingers trembling. At just that moment, the front door opened.

“Carla!” she called, voice higher than she meant.

Carla appeared in the doorway, pulling down her coat collar and closing an umbrella. “What is it?”

“It’s Betsy. She fainted at school. They’ve taken her to hospital.”

Carla went pale. “Right. Where’s my bag?”

Lisa clutched Mia’s pram handle, rocking it instinctively even though the baby was still asleep from their morning walk. “We’ll both go-”

“No,” Carla cut in sharply, already refastening the buttons on her coat. She stopped, softening when she saw Lisa’s stricken face. “Lise, think. We can’t take Mia into hospital, she’s too little. Germs, infections… she doesn’t need to be around all that.”

Lisa’s eyes filled. She knew Carla was right, but every cell in her body screamed at her to be with her daughter. “But Betsy-”

“She needs one of us to be there,” Carla said firmly, squeezing Lisa’s arm. “I’ll go. You stay here with Mia, keep her safe. I’ll look after Bets.”

Lisa’s throat tightened. “Promise me you’ll text. Every detail.”

Carla leaned in and kissed her, quickly and urgently. “Every detail. I swear. She'll be okay. She will.” She pressed another kiss to Mia’s head and then was gone, the slam of the front door echoing through the hall.

Lisa stood for a minute, staring at the empty space where her wife had been, her chest aching with the knowledge that she couldn’t be in two places at once.

----

Carla’s boots squeaked furiously against the hospital flooring as she strode down the corridor, the directions from reception still burning in her ears. She hated hospitals - the smell of disinfectant and the shrill buzz of machines - but when she pushed open the curtain to Betsy’s cubicle, everything else faded away.

Her little girl lay on the bed, pale, with her hair sticking damply to her forehead. She sat up when she saw Carla, eyes wide with relief.

“Mum,” she whispered in a tiny voice.

Carla was at her side in an instant, perching on the edge of the bed and tracing a finger against her forehead, mindful of the bandage on one side. “Hey, lovey. I’m here. You've given us quite the scare today, haven't you?”

Betsy’s lip trembled. “It really hurt. My tummy. And then everything went funny and I fell down. My head…”

Carla brushed her thumb back and forth across Betsy's hand, her own heart twisting. “Well, you’re in the right place now, sweetheart. They’ll sort you out.”

After a brief chat with Mrs Porter, the grey-haired woman excused herself with a smile. "I hope you're feeling much better soon, Betsy," she said, patting the little girl's leg and disappearing off behind the curtain. 

“Where’s Mummy?” Betsy asked.

Carla squeezed her hand. “She’s at home with Mia. We couldn't bring her in: she’s too tiny, she might pick something up. But your mummy so wanted to be here, Bets. She made me promise to give you a cuddle from her.”

Betsy nodded, though her eyes filled. Carla leaned closer. “You know she’d have run here if she could, but she’s keeping your sister safe. So you’ve got me today.”

“Okay,” Betsy whispered.

Carla kissed her knuckles. “Okay.”

When the doctor came, Carla stayed steady, listening carefully as he examined Betsy’s stomach, asking questions about the pain. Appendicitis, he murmured, needed to be ruled out. Carla asked all the right questions, her voice clipped but calm.

Between checks, she texted Lisa: With her now. She’s pale but talking. Docs think it might be appendicitis. Will keep you updated. Love you xx

Her phone buzzed almost immediately. Love you too. Kiss her for me. Tell her I’m so proud of her xxx

Carla leaned down and repeated the message word for word, pressing a kiss to Betsy’s temple. “Mummy says she’s proud of you.”

Betsy smiled faintly. “Can you tell her I’m okay?”

Carla stroked her hair. “I will.”

----

At home, Lisa sat in the armchair with Mia latched to her breast, free hand clutching her phone. She’d read Carla’s messages over and over again.

“You hear that, baby girl?” she whispered into the still air. “Your big sister’s being so brave. She’s at the hospital with your mum, but she’s going to be okay.”

Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard.

Mia suckled contentedly, oblivious to the tension knotting her mother’s chest. Lisa blinked fiercely against the sting of tears. She remembered Betsy at three, tiny and wary, the first time Lisa had hugged her after the amnesia. She remembered the guilt of those lost years and now, again, she wasn’t there when Betsy needed her.

She kissed Mia’s head, trying to anchor herself. “It’s alright. Your sister’s strong. She’s got Mum with her. And maybe later on or tomorrow she’ll be home and you’ll give her one of your gassy little smiles, won’t you?”

The baby fidgeted, her small hand opening and closing against Lisa’s skin. Lisa let out a shaky laugh. “That’s right. We’ll all be together again.”

Her phone buzzed. Bloods taken. Scan soon. She’s being so brave. Don’t worry, Lise xxxx

Lisa texted back with one hand. I can’t help it. Kiss her again for me. Tell her I love her xxx

Then she sat in the silence, rocking gently, whispering to Mia, although the words were just as much to reassure herself. “She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay.”

----

The night stretched on: long and sterile in the hospital, taut and aching at home. Betsy dozed fitfully, Carla sitting sentinel at her side. Each time Betsy stirred, Carla soothed her, smoothing her hair and telling quiet stories about when she was a kid, daft little tales to keep the fear at bay.

Lisa, meanwhile, paced with Mia asleep against her shoulder, whispering lullabies into the dim light of the bedroom even though her heart was being pulled miles away.

At last, just after two, Carla was given the news she’d been waiting for: the scan was clear. No appendicitis. Just a nasty stomach virus. They’d keep Betsy in overnight to watch her for concussion but she’d be alright.

Carla’s relief was so fierce it left her shaky. She texted Lisa immediately: Not appendix. Just a virus. She’s okay, thank God. Love you xx

At home, Lisa sank onto the bed with a sob of relief, clutching Mia close. “Did you hear that, sweetheart? Your sister’s alright.” She pressed her lips to her baby’s head, whispering it like a prayer.

----

Betsy came home the following afternoon, pale but smiling, her hand tucked trustingly in Carla’s. Lisa was waiting at the door.

“Bets,” Lisa whispered, kneeling to pull her into a careful hug. “Oh, love. You scared me.”

“I’m okay now,” Betsy said, leaning against her, small and fragile but comforted by the clutching grasp of her mother’s arms.

Carla shut the door and put her handbag down with a sigh. “Doctor said rest and fluids. She’ll bounce back.”

That evening, when Betsy was tucked up on the sofa with a blanket and a film, Lisa sank onto the edge of the bed where Carla was getting dressed after a much-needed shower.

“I feel like I failed her again,” Lisa admitted, voice low. “I missed those first years and now, when she needed me, I wasn’t there.”

Carla turned, taking her hand. “Lise. You were where you had to be. With Mia. That doesn’t mean Betsy didn’t feel loved. She did. I told her every time you texted, every time you said you loved her. She knew.”

Lisa blinked hard. “Do you really think so?”

Carla leaned in, kissing her gently. “We’re doing this together, remember? Even if sometimes it means we’re not in the same place. We've got two children now - they both need us. Sometimes it's going to have to be divide and conquer.”

They went downstairs and curled up on the sofa: Betsy snuggled between them, half-asleep with her head on Lisa’s shoulder, Mia dozing in Carla’s arms. The four of them were pressed close, safe, and for the first time since the phone had rung, Lisa’s chest eased. They were together. Everyone was okay. That was enough.

Chapter Text

“Door, love!” Carla called from the kitchen, where she was wrestling with the coffee machine that had started hissing like an angry cat.

Lisa smiled faintly. “Got it.” She rushed to the door and opened it to find Helen on the step, her hair windswept, with Isla balanced on her hip. Dan followed with a large canvas bag slung over one shoulder.

“Surprise!” Helen grinned. “We come bearing biscuits and chaos.”

Lisa’s face lit up. “You’re the best kind of visitors, then. Come in, come in.”

Isla gave a squeal of delight as soon as she spotted the baby’s playmat on the floor, wriggling to be put down. Helen lowered her carefully and the toddler made straight for the toys, plonking herself down and picking up a rattle before shaking it wildly at arm's length.

“Alright, little one,” Carla said as she came in wiping her hands, “don’t go scaring the baby with your enthusiasm.”

Helen laughed. “She’s obsessed with babies at the moment - keeps trying to feed her dolls but usually ends up just spooning yoghurt onto their heads.”

Dan leaned over to hug Carla and then Lisa. “How’s the patient?” he asked, nodding towards the sofa where Betsy sat wrapped in a blanket with a book on her lap.

“On the mend,” Lisa said, going over to smooth Betsy’s hair. “Bit tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Betsy nodded shyly, giving Helen a little wave. “Hi, Auntie Helen.”

“Hey, darling.” Helen crouched in front of her. “You gave everyone a bit of a fright, didn’t you? Are you feeling better?”

“A bit. Mummy says I can go back to school on Monday.”

“That’s good news.” Helen smiled, then turned as Mia gave a little squeal from the other side of the room. “And there’s the newest member of the family. Yes, I haven't forgotten about you, little lady.”

Lisa’s expression softened instantly. “She’s getting so big already.”

“Six weeks old and she’s almost as tall as you,” Carla teased, earning an affectionate swat on the arm.

Helen went to the Moses basket, peering down. “Oh, look at her. She’s the image of you, Lisa. Those same eyes.”

Lisa blushed a little. “Poor kid.”

“Rubbish,” Helen said warmly. “She’s gorgeous.”

Mia blinked up at her aunt with solemn curiosity, then yawned; her tiny fists stretched above her head.

“She’s going to be running about before long,” Dan said thoughtfully. “You'll struggle to catch up!”

Carla chuckled. “If she's as slow as Lisa is...”

“Hey!” Lisa said, half laughing. “That’s slander. I only run slowly so you can keep up!”

They all laughed, and for a moment the house felt full in the best possible way - the hum of voices, the smell of brewing coffee and Isla toddling around in her socks muttering to herself as she carried one of Betsy’s soft toys from room to room.

----

An hour later, they’d all settled around the table for a late brunch: toast, croissants and enough caffeine to keep the adults alert. Betsy was still a bit quiet, leaning against Carla’s arm as she picked at her food, but her colour was definitely better.

Lisa watched her closely, that familiar protective pang tugging in her chest. Every now and then Mia would make a little gurgle from her bouncer and Lisa’s attention would flick automatically to her.

Helen noticed. “You’ve got that new baby radar,” she said with a grin. “I remember it. Every tiny noise and you’re halfway across the room before you even realise it.”

Lisa laughed softly. “Can’t help it.”

Carla reached across and squeezed her hand. “It’s alright. I’ve got Betsy.”

Lisa’s smile faltered slightly. “Yeah.”

Helen caught the flicker in her expression. “Everything okay?”

Lisa hesitated, then glanced at Carla, who gave her an encouraging nod. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Helen followed her into the kitchen, where the coffee machine continued to burble quietly. Lisa leaned against the counter, rubbing her thumb along the edge of it.

“I wanted to ask,” she began slowly. “When Isla was born, how did you… I don’t know… make sure Oliver didn’t feel pushed out? You seemed to handle it all so well.”

Helen laughed softly. “Ha. You should’ve seen me the first few weeks - I was convinced I’d ruined his life. He was so clingy, he wouldn’t let me feed the baby without climbing into my lap. It took time.”

Lisa exhaled. “That’s the thing. I feel like I’m constantly torn in two. I don’t want Betsy to ever think I love her any less, but Mia needs me all the time at the moment and I can’t split myself in half.”

Helen leaned her elbows on the counter beside her. “That’s completely normal. You can’t give fifty-fifty every second. Sometimes one of them needs more. It evens out in the long run.”

Lisa sighed, not entirely convinced.

"The thing about parenting, Lise, is that there really is no answer for how to do it perfectly. Everybody knows what the wrong way is but there's no definitive guide for how to get everything right. We're all just scrabbling around trying to make the best decisions we can at the time."

Lisa’s throat tightened. “I missed so much of Betsy’s life already. Those first years. I keep thinking - if I can’t even be there now when she’s right here in front of me…”

Helen put a hand on her arm. “Lise. Betsy knows you love her. You show her every day. You don’t have to be everywhere at once to prove that.”

Lisa swallowed hard. “It just feels like I should be able to.”

“I know,” Helen said softly, “but trust me, she won’t remember how many hours you spent holding the baby. She'll remember who came to her school play, who made her laugh, who tucked her in after she had a nightmare. You do all of those things.”

Lisa nodded slowly. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

Helen smiled. “Anytime. Besides, you’ve got Carla - she’s brilliant.”

Lisa’s face relaxed into a loving smile. “Yeah. She really is.”

From the living room came the sound of laughter - a bright giggle followed by Dan saying, “You’ll have to share the crayons, Betsy, there’s enough for everyone!”

Lisa smiled. “Sounds like they’re surviving without us.”

“Barely,” Helen said wryly. “Come on.”

----

Back in the living room, Carla was kneeling on the rug, a colouring book open in front of her. Betsy was showing Isla how to “stay inside the lines,” though Isla had decided that the blue crayon looked tasty.

“Caught in the act, missy,” Carla said as Isla tried to gnaw on it. “You’re as bad as your dad.”

Dan raised his hands. “Hey, I only chew pens, not crayons.”

Everyone laughed.

Lisa scooped Mia up from her bouncer and sat back on the sofa, watching the scene with a smile tugging at her mouth. Her world, she thought. It was noisy, cluttered, full of mismatched crayons and crumbs - but it was hers.

Helen sat with her, nudging her gently. “See? You’re doing alright.”

Lisa leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder for a moment. “Yeah. We’re getting there.”

The afternoon stretched lazily. Isla toddled from lap to lap, occasionally presenting someone with a soggy plastic block as though it were a priceless gift. Mia dozed peacefully against Helen's chest, tiny and warm. Betsy drew a picture of “our family” with Mia in a big pink blanket and insisted on showing everyone.

“Look, Mum,” she said proudly to Carla. “That’s you, that’s Mummy, that’s me, and that’s Mia. And Auntie Helen and Uncle Dan and Ollie and Isla too.”

Carla grinned. “That’s brilliant, sweetheart. We’ll put it up on the fridge.”

Helen chuckled. “You’ve officially made it into family art, Dan.”

“About time,” he said with mock pride. “I’ve been auditioning for years.”

----

When Helen and Dan finally bundled Isla into her coat and went to pick Ollie up from his friend's house, it was nearly five.

“Thanks for coming,” Carla said as they stood in the doorway, “you’ve cheered us all right up.”

“Anytime,” Helen said. “Next time, come to ours. We’ll do tea.”

“Deal,” Lisa said, hugging her sister tightly, “and thanks for the chat.”

Helen murmured in her ear, “You’re doing a brilliant job. Don’t doubt it.”

Lisa smiled. “You too.”

When the door closed behind them, the house felt suddenly quiet again.

Carla came up behind her, slipping her arms around Lisa’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. “You alright, love?”

Lisa leaned back into her. “Yeah. I am.”

Betsy’s voice drifted from the sofa. “Mum? Can we watch a film?”

“Course we can, sweetheart,” Carla said.

Lisa turned, smiling. “I’ll make popcorn.”

Carla kissed her temple. “You, me, our girls and a daft film. Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Text

Sunday morning arrived quietly over Weatherfield. Carla lay on her side, watching a tiny pool of saliva collect at the corner of her wife's mouth. It was the longest Mia had slept in one stretch and, as a result, the longest Lisa had too. Carla still marvelled at how willing the blonde was to get up and comfort Mia in the night, even at weekends when Carla didn’t have the factory to get up for. It was like Lisa needed to prove to herself that she could do it; the guilt of not having been able to do all this for Betsy still weighed heavy on her heart some days and Carla had accepted that this was something her wife needed to do to put some of it to rest for good. 

She cast an eye over to the baby, who was still sound asleep, before carefully sliding out of bed and down the stairs.

She tidied a few bits away, put a pot of coffee on and started to gather the ingredients for yoghurt and granola bowls. After the last couple of weeks - worrying about Betsy, things still settling with Mia and a tricky time at the factory - a slow morning was just what the doctor ordered. 

It was another hour before Lisa came down with the baby in one arm, some washing in the other and humming under her breath. She was wearing one of Carla’s jumpers - soft with the sleeves pushed up - and her hair was mussed from the first properly restful sleep she'd had since she was about six months pregnant. Mia was still dozing against her shoulder, warm and heavy, making those little snuffling sounds newborns made that never failed to melt her.

From the kitchen, Carla called, “Morning, love. You were out like a light so I thought I'd leave you to it.” She crossed the room and kissed Lisa’s shoulder. “It's been a long time since you've looked that peaceful.”

Lisa smiled. “I could have gone on longer but I woke up panicking because she's never still asleep at this time is she? It's like a Sunday morning miracle.”

Carla raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Maybe this is the start of a new routine for our little lady,” she murmured, hopefully. 

“You never know,” Lisa said, shrugging. “Although I wouldn't bet on it. Anyway, I’m glad I'm up. I'm looking forward to today.”

Carla leaned her back against the counter. “Aye, your special Betsy day.”

Lisa sighed with a smile. “Yep. You sure you don't mind? I just feel like I owe her some proper time - no nappies, no feeds, no interruptions.”

Carla’s smile softened. “Of course not. She’ll love it. You’ve both been through a lot, these last few months.”

Lisa nodded, brushing her thumb over Mia’s back. “It's been a long time since we've done anything just the two of us.”

Carla stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Lisa’s waist. “You’re such a good mum, you know.”

Lisa gave her a small smile. “I'm trying.”

“You don’t have to try. You just are.” Carla kissed the top of Mia’s head. “Now go up and get ready. Don't worry - I’ll hold the fort. Little Miss and I have plans with the telly and series 2 of The Traitors. We'll be fine.”

Lisa chuckled. “You sure you’ll manage?”

“Promise.”

----

By late morning, the bowling alley was echoing with the clatter of pins and the dull thud of heavy balls against the polished wood. Betsy’s laughter carried across the lanes, joyfully infectious. Lisa hadn’t realised how much she’d missed that sound until now.

“Go on, then,” Lisa said, crouching behind her daughter to help her aim. “Straight down the middle. You can do this.”

The little girl gripped the bright pink bowling ball as though her life depended on it. She lined up her shot, tongue sticking out in concentration, and sent it rolling down the lane. It veered a little to the left before, miraculously, knocking over four pins. She squealed in delight, jumping up and down.

“I did it!”

“You did!” Lisa cheered, clapping her hands. “That was brilliant, Bets!”

“Your turn!” Betsy declared, handing her mum the next ball like she was passing on the Olympic torch.

Lisa took it, pretending to stretch out her shoulders. “You ready to see how it’s done, then?”

Betsy giggled. “You’re going to miss.”

“Hey!” Lisa threw it - a perfect strike. She turned back smugly. “Still got it.”

Betsy groaned dramatically. “That's not fair! You’ve had loads more practice than me.”

“You’ll get there, sweetheart,” Lisa assured her, with a smile. “Give it a few years and I won’t stand a chance - you'll be wiping the floor with me!”

They played three full games, each one louder and sillier than the last. Betsy invented victory dances and various silly rules they had to follow; Lisa pulled devastated expressions every time she missed. In between turns, they shared a plate of chips, then a pizza and a slushie Lisa argued had no business being quite such a violent shade of blue.

It felt ordinary in the best way possible. There were no worries or distractions. Just laughter and the kind of conversation that came easily. They talked about school, about Betsy’s newest best friend Chloe and about what colour they should paint her bedroom next, since the pink she had chosen years ago was now deemed ‘too babyish for an eight-year-old'.

By the time they wandered over to the café across the road, both of them were glowing - their cheeks were pink and their hearts were full.

----

The café was small, all foggy windows and the smell of freshly baked pastries. Lisa ordered two hot chocolates and a chocolate croissant the size of Betsy's face to share, and they slid into a corner booth.

Betsy pressed her hands to the warm mug and sighed happily. “This is really nice, isn't it?”

Lisa smiled. “It is. I’ve missed doing stuff like this with you.”

“Me too,” Betsy said, a little quieter, her fingers picking at the napkin beside her mug.

Lisa took a sip of her drink. “You okay, love?”

Betsy hesitated. “Yeah.”

Lisa tilted her head. “You sure? You’ve gone all quiet on me.”

Betsy’s lips pressed together. “I just wish we could have more days like this.”

Lisa’s heart ached. “Oh, sweetheart.” She reached across the table, brushing her thumb over the back of her daughter's hand. “So do I. And one day, it'll be easier. I know things are different now but we'll get used to it in time, I promise.”

Betsy nodded. “I do love her - Mia - and I love being her big sister…” She trailed off.

“But?”

“It's just hard to share,” Betsy whispered.

Lisa felt tears sting her eyes. She took Betsy’s hand. “I know it is, love. But Betsy - you’re the reason I even know how to love like this. You made me a mum. You taught me how to care about someone more than myself.”

Betsy blinked, surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Lisa said, “and can I tell you a secret?”

Betsy nodded. 

“I'm finding it really hard to share too, sometimes. I'm trying to be there for both of you and I know I don’t always get it right. I just know that loving Mia doesn’t take anything away from loving you. My heart's just… grown. That’s how it works. And she's a baby so she can't do things herself like you can yet, but it won't always be like this. I just want you to know that I'm trying. I'm trying really hard to get the balance right as much as I can.”

Betsy sniffed, trying to smile. “Can we have more days like this? Just us two? Like when Mum picks me up from school and we go to Roy's without you?”

“I'll sit with her tonight and we'll put some dates in the calendar. Some special time to look forward to.”

For a moment they sat there in quiet understanding - Lisa’s hand covering Betsy’s and both of them blinking away emotion neither of them knew the quick fix for. Then Betsy suddenly brightened.

“Next time, can we go ice skating?” she asked.

Lisa laughed through the lump in her throat. “You’re on.”

----

When they got home later that afternoon, the smell of a roast dinner greeted them. The windows had steamed slightly and music was playing softly in the background. Carla stood in the kitchen wearing an apron and basting the chicken with one hand whilst gently rocking Mia’s bouncer with her foot.

“Well, look who’s back!” Carla called. “Did you win, Bets?”

“Twice!” Betsy shouted, kicking off her boots, “but I think Mummy let me win the last one.”

Lisa gasped. “Outrageous! I'd never do that,” she said with a wink for her wife’s benefit. 

Carla laughed, wiping her hands on the apron. “Right, go and wash your hands please - then you can set the table. It'll be ready in half an hour.”

The meal was a noisy, happy blur. Betsy chattered about her bowling skills, Lisa smiled until her cheeks hurt and Mia cooed contentedly from across the room, slightly milk-drunk from a well-timed feed. Every so often, Lisa caught Carla’s gaze across the table and they both exchanged a quiet, knowing look: we did it, we’re okay.

When Betsy leaned back with a sigh and announced, “This is my favourite - all four of us together,” Lisa felt her heart expand again, astonished that the space behind her ribs wasn't already fit to burst.

----

When Betsy had gone upstairs to get ready for her bath, the house settled into a hush again. The plates were drying, the lights were dimmed and Carla was on the sofa with Mia asleep on her chest, her fingers stroking up and down the baby's tiny nose from her brow right to the tip, admiring the tiny milk spots in the creases around her nostrils.

Lisa paused in the doorway, watching them. That image - Carla, so soft and calm, with their daughter breathing against her - would never stop undoing her. There was a time she’d thought happiness like this was out of reach and yet here it was, right in front of her. It still took her breath away.

Carla looked up and smiled. “Hey, you. She’s sparko.”

“Looks that way,” Lisa murmured, crossing to sink down next to her. “You two look perfect like that.”

Carla smirked. “It’s a gift.”

Lisa gave a quiet laugh, then hesitated. “Actually, speaking of gifts… there’s something I wanted to give you.”

Carla frowned. “Now?”

Lisa nodded, pulling a small box from her pocket and handing it over. “Now.”

Carla raised an eyebrow but took it eagerly, flipping the lid open. She froze.

Inside lay a delicate silver eternity ring, its tiny diamonds catching the lamplight.

“Lisa…” she breathed. “What’s this?”

Lisa’s voice was quiet but steady. “It’s for you. For everything.”

Carla blinked rapidly. “Lise, you didn’t have to-”

“I did,” Lisa interrupted gently, “because I want you to know how much I love you. How much I see everything you do - for all three of us. You’ve given me more than I ever dreamed I’d have and I just wanted something to mark it. Something that says this isn’t just about getting through the hard bits - it’s about every bit afterwards. For… I suppose… eternity.”

Carla swallowed, her thumb brushing over the ring. “You trying to out-romantic me, Swain?”

Lisa smiled through her tears. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Cheeky,” Carla whispered, slipping the ring onto her finger. “It’s beautiful.”

“So are you,” Lisa said simply.

Carla laughed softly, eyes shining. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“That’s alright,” Lisa said, her voice thick. “You’ve made me cry enough times.”

Carla snorted, then leaned forward and captured her wife's lips in her own. They hadn't kissed like this in a while; it was love and longing and hope and pure, unadulterated joy.

When they finally pulled back, Mia gave a tiny sigh, stirring against Carla’s chest. They both looked down and smiled.

Lisa rested her head against Carla’s shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. “Our life isn't perfect, and we don't always get everything right. But I have everything I'll ever need, Carla, and I have it with you.”

Carla turned and kissed the top of her head. “Me too, Lise. Me too.”

They sat like that for a long time with the baby asleep between them. Unbeknownst to each other, the two women were thinking of how, just a year ago, this tiny person was nothing more than a wish they held in their hearts. Now, she was a daughter they held in their arms. The newest member of their family: their new chapter.