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The soundof Kayn's cry rips me straight from my peaceful slumber. I wake in a panic and sit up, barely even opening my eyes before I go to get out of bed. As I stumble down the hallway, it sets in just how tired I am.
I knew having a baby was going to be rough, but I don't think anything could have prepared me for the severe sleep deprivation that comes with it. At least in the hospital, they took him to the nursery to let us get some sleep. The last few days we've been home, I feel like I've been in a perpetual state of awake with the occasional catnap.
Kayn cries inside his crib, and honestly, I feel like crying with him. I lift him up and cradle him in my arms as I take him over to the changing table. With my eyes only half open, I change his diaper before realizing that I forgot to grab a bottle.
“Shit,” I groan quietly.
Easton snorts behind me. “That'll be a great first word.”
As I turn around, I see he's got the bottle, and he's never looked sexier to me than right now. He comes closer and takes Kayn out of my arms.
“I've got him,” he tells me. “You go get more rest.”
My heart swells as I watch him sit in the rocking chair with our son. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “Lacking sleep is something I'm used to at this point, but you're not. I've got him. I promise. Go back to bed.”
My shoulders sag, and I almost confess my love right then and there, but instead, I bite my tongue. Confessing that right now would probably lead to a conversation that I am way too tired to have right now. So, I do exactly what he told me to.
I go back to bed.
IT TAKES A FEW more days, but by the end of the first week, I'm finally starting to feel like we've got a system down. We move around the kitchen with an unmatched skill, completely aware of what the other is doing with a minimal amount of effort. Amelia and Zayn sit at the island, watching Easton and me.
I bounce Kayn in my arms as I put the coffee grinds into the machine and hit start. Meanwhile, Easton makes his bottle. When he's done, he passes me the bottle and I walk over to the table to pull out a chair.
“Shit,” I groan. “I forgot a—”
“Burp cloth,” he finishes for me, already tossing one to me. “And what did I tell you about cursing in front of him?”
I catch the mini-towel and roll my eyes. “He's not even a week old, Easton. And besides. I'm sure he will learn a lot worse from you.”
Easton chuckles and waits for the coffee to be done while I feed the baby, burping him every couple minutes. When the coffee machine beeps, he takes two cups and makes some for each of us. He puts the cup—the coffee prepared exactly how I like it—down on the table and takes Kayn from my arms.
“Hey, little man,” he coos. “I'm just going to put you in your swing.”
I watch as he bounces him and kisses his head before strapping him into his baby swing, the most critical piece of equipment we own at this point. After turning it on and making sure he's safe, he comes to sit next to me. As he brings his cup to his mouth, however, he freezes.
“What?” he asks Amelia.
She smirks and shakes her head. “Nothing. You two are just disgustingly domesticated.”
“That's what happens when you make a baby together,” I tell her.
Chuckling, she puts her hands up in defense. “I never said it was a bad thing. It's cute.”
I leave it alone because the phrase cute walks on the line of dangerous territory. Since having Kayn, Easton and I have kept things in a very safe zone of friends and coparents. As much as sometimes I want to scream in his face that he's everything to me, I would never have the balls to actually do it.
There's also the fact that I don't know what I would do without Easton at this point. He's been taking the nighttime feedings so I can sleep, which usually ends in him sleeping on the couch by about 10 AM. The rest of the time, though, he's up and willing to do anything I need to help. Seeing how hands-on he is with Kayn is everything.
Looking over at Easton, I notice that even drinking his coffee, his attention is on the baby. He glances over at me when he feels my eyes on him and he smiles.
“What?”
I shake my head and go back to my coffee. “Nothing.”
Pussy.
WE PULL UP TO the house after getting home from Kayn's first doctor appointment. It went as well as it could have, if you don't count me crying because I'm still super hormonal and he's already a whole week old. He's healthy and gaining weight exactly as he should. It's everything we could hope for.
