#while my peers are having real life babies I'm researching them for baby!fic

[jmflowers]

I know you are doing prompts intertwined with song lyrics...I've had this image of Carina walking in on Maya doing work outs with their new baby. (I follow this soccer mom on instagram and she posts videos of her doing light work outs with her baby, it's super cute.) All I could think was, this is something Maya would do. :p Not sure if there's a song that could be included with it. Anyway, just thought I'd throw that out there. Thanks!

Well, I started writing this in my head from Maya's point of view, and then I found a song that made it need to be from Carina's point of view... so, here's the best of both worlds.

Prompt #2: no one else is such a beautiful dream to me. (the beautiful dream by george ezra)

It's not quite the amount of weight that she's looking for. Doesn't make her biceps tense or her legs quake as fast as she'd like. But it's movement and that counts.

And he looks at her just the same, gurgling happily as she rises up and drops down into lunges and squats and whatever else she can think of, holding him securely against her chest.

She'd run on the treadmill with him, too, if she didn't think Carina would kill her for it. Because it's been six weeks since she last set foot in a gym and she's starting to go a little stir crazy.

Which is not to say that she's not loving every minute of the blissful wonder of infancy - she is. She really, really is. But there's a wire in her brain that's rooted to the necessity of movement and there's only so many laps she can do around their living room before she has to admit that the need is simply not being sated.

"Exercise," she huffs out, lips pressed against her son's head, "Is excellent for mental health. It releases endorphins, which are those things that make you feel good." She shifts, transferring the baby into her other arm. "Right now, you just get those from Mama's boobs and snuggles, I think. But when you're big..." she smiles, picturing it, "Maybe you'll like running and jumping and climbing as much as I do."

The baby sighs, eyes wide as he looks up in the direction of her face. It's still new, that he follows the sound of her voice. Still a treat when he listens intently as she talks to him.

Carina had called it a social milestone - the six-week growth spurt they'd all been enduring coinciding with a newly-establishing interest in the world around him. Truthfully, it made the middle-of-the-night feeds more bearable.

"I agree, little man," she whispers, rubbing her nose against the swoop of hair atop his head. "It is tiring work, even when it feels good."

He balls a hand into a fist, rubbing it along his cheek before directing it into his mouth. That was something new, too; another milestone behaviour that Carina had celebrated with uncontained glee. So smart, piccolino, she'd cooed.

"It'll be different for you, though," Maya hums, "Because Mama and I will let you choose what you want to do." She wrinkles her brow, the sudden thought heavy. "And we won't force you to keep going when you've had enough." It tugs at something in the back of her throat, the words catching. "I promise."

~~~

It's quiet when she steps out of the shower, no one crying or talking or pacing. She pokes her head out of the bathroom just to be sure, finding the bedroom empty, the bed properly made, the bassinette immobile. She wanders to the doorway, curious, wet hair dripping off her shoulders and down the back of her robe.

As she peeks around the corner, she finds them, Maya facing the window, her hands cradling their son in that way she always does that softens the sharp lines of her shoulders, her spine relaxing into his touch. She isn't swaying as she normally would, her body forever in a perpetual state of motion, and it takes a second for Carina to realize that the stillness isn't a calm but rather a rest.

A rest between sets of squats.

She presses a hand to her mouth to stifle the chuckle that tumbles free. Maya has tried to be stationary - calm and careful and kind as they've existed just the three of them in the safe little bubble of their new motherhood. She's spent lazy afternoons in bed, rising only to fetch diapers or glasses of water or to rock their son when he just wouldn't settle. She's woken in the night for feedings and slept late and all the while, never said a word about the desire to run.

She's stood by, a stable, immovable force, as Carina has recovered and their child has grown.

But the itch hasn't stopped needing to be scratched, Carina knows, she can feel it digging away inside Maya's bones when she rolls over in bed at 5am, choosing not to slip out for an hour lest Carina need her help. Lest Carina or their little boy need anything at all while she's gone.

Not to say she hasn't noticed when Maya slinks down the hall to do push ups on the living room floor.

This, though, is new. She watches as Maya shifts their little boy in her arms, his sweet gurgle filling the apartment as she takes him through another set. There's a stillness again when she finishes, her voice soft as she murmurs to their son.

Carina watches as her wife turns, the words indecipherable but her eyes glistening as she looks down at the baby cradled against her chest. He raises a fist to his cheek, guides it clumsily into his waiting mouth. His legs kick at the air, always in motion just like his Mommy.

She watches, too, as he yanks his fingers back out of his mouth. As he looks up at Maya as though she's hung the stars in the sky. As their son, for the first time in his life, smiles a social smile.