We’re getting better at this. It feels like we’re a team again, what with being woken up in the middle of the night by a tiny human and stuff. We can even take some time for ourselves.
I start working again, in freelance. Gotta love being in your cactus jammies in front of tall, transparent windows above the chic neighborhood of your city. It’s not like anybody could look up and see me in all this sleepy glory.
Hannah is now sleeping in her own room most of the time.
Hugo dabbles a little in programming again, or more precisely, in modding the game he likes to stream.
This new balance makes us happy again.
And if you’re wondering how we achieved this balance…
… One of us has started taking it upon himself to also wake up in the middle of the night to comfort his progeny.
No matter how tired this makes him in the mornings…
I’m not much more dynamic, but today I managed to steal the bathtub to sleep in.
And we found these magical Granite Falls bath oils, so I’m fine.
It’s not really that I need her physical help. I delegated most of my responsibilities to other people, the shares and the consulting salary get me my paychecks now.
What I need is the moral support; and what she loves more than anything is pinching her great-granddaughter’s cheeks.
I still suck at cooking, but my baking is improving.
Sometimes I have to make a bit of an effort to remember that this is Hugo’s job.
…
It’s okay, though, we still love each other… and the walk-in wardrobe in the guest’s bedroom.
He’s getting better at taking care of Hannah, though. I can now take morning jogs around the neighborhood with a peaceful mind.
Oh how I’d love to say that we settle into a routine, this time again.
We don’t though.
Oh, we try, but Hannah takes a long time to settle into her schedule. And even when she does, what do you know, she will wake up yelling in the middle of the night.
And every day, everything seems to be new again. The views we’ll never take for granted, each and every single one of Hannah’s smiles, and at night, the softness of our pillows.
Hugo easily gets lost in thought these days, watching the city light up from above.
It’s taking him more time to get used to this new life of ours. For a while, I do most of the baby-shushing.
Hannah’s fine with that, she knows I got the milk.
Grandma often comes to help.
As soon as the sun rises, Hugo and I go to the first floor and spend most of the day there. I’m usually the first one up, so I put Hannah in the downstairs crib.
From the crack of dawn to the last minute of the next night; it’s a job that never stops.
We cross the Myshuno Bridge, and leaving behind the flat we put so much effort, time, and love into, we move Uptown.
This is the wealthiest borough of San Myshuno, and I can’t express how odd it feels to call this sterile, clean, modern environment our home. It’s not that we don’t like it — far from that — it just takes some getting used to.
Hugo and I came into a lot of money really fast, and it’s a bit dizzying, but it’s just the beginning. The first few months we have some trouble making the ridiculously high rent, but we’re never late, and soon enough, we stop worrying about it altogether.
Sometimes I stop and think about what people must think of us, the celebrity couple who lives in a three-stories apartment, looking down on the whole city. They don’t know we would have stayed in our Spice District flat if it weren’t for Hannah; if we didn’t want her to have all the space and comfort she can have.
I don’t want my daughter to lack any of the things I had.
Our office corner by the entrance. I usually work there, while Hugo prefers the one in our bedroom.
The living room
We quickly hung our wedding pictures and Grandma’s painting on the wall by the dining table. Said dining table is right by the windows and I have to admit it can be tough not to get distracted from your meal by ant-like passers-by or the incredible view.
The kitchen, small, but also not a priority for us. We still can’t cook to save our lives. We do care about the fancy coffee machine, though. And the fact that it opens straight into the living-room is a plus…
The neighbors come to greet us on the very first day, and so does Charlotte.
These neighbors are my mom’s cousins, like Eden, but I understand pretty fast that I am not going to get along with them. Even Charlotte thinks they’re brats, and that’s saying something.
They also invited themselves into my house while Hugo and I were still in our pajamas, so…
The first bathroom
Our bathroom. Behind that half-wall, a corner bathtub that makes you feel like you’re bathing in the clouds. There’s also a shower, hidden in the other corner.
Our laundry corner is less cute than back in the Spice District, but at least we have a dryer now.
The Master Bedroom
This is our bedroom! The desk overlooking the plaza below.
The bed and the one wall light we took with us from the previous flat.
We have a cradle for Hannah in this room as well, for her first few weeks of life, then for impromptu naps.
Our marvelous en-suite. the shower and the toilet are hidden behind walls. Even we like a resemblance of privacy from each other.
The Terrace
And the terrace. My favorite spot, as always. But while the balcony at the Spice Market shone in the early hours of the morning, on this side of the bridge, nothing beats the sunsets.
There are a few more rooms to discover: the downstairs swimming pool, the second bathroom, Hanna’s room and the guest bedroom, but these are the places we use the most.
The day is growing nearer and nearer. According to the doctor we have a little under a week left, so we head to Granite Falls, in the same lodge as before, to get me some peace and quiet.
Being pampered with warm food, bath oils and nature sounds really amazing to me. I’m ready to get comfy and relaxed for one full week. I also hope it takes my mind off of how empty the house feels without Pari in it.
I go to sleep the first night and instantly start snoring like a chainsaw.
… And then, in the middle of the night, heavy contractions wake me up.
Hugo drives us straight back to Willow Creek, and while the doctors get me ready, he can only wait and try to interiorize his panic.
Then they let him into the room, where I am already wired to a terrifying machine.
The day after our trip at the Spa, I wake up in the early hours of the morning. Or more precisely, my overactive bladder wakes me up way before I would have liked.
And as soon as I exit the bedroom, I know something’s wrong.
I’m very close to getting that baby I’ve been carrying out into the world; my back is hurting more and more and the giving birth is scaring me more and more.
So what do we do when our back hurts and we are stressed?
Yoga, meditation, and massages.
And where do we get those?
At the Windenburg Spa.
Changing into a towel that barely fits around my monstrous belly.
Hugo insists that he’s also very stressed and also has very good reasons to get a hand massage.
Really, we both know he’s using his beloved wife as an excuse.
For the baby shower, Hugo does most of the organizing, along with Pari. They hang all the (numerous) decorations, get most of the food and ingredients, retrieve the gifts that arrived by post…
My role is now to cut up the Galette we bought and to bake the one cake. I do so, and we put the finishing touches, a few hours before the guests get there.
Hugo feeling the baby kicking one last time before our guests monopolize my belly for hours.
Eden, the Romain-less Rascals, Pari, Mom, Mam, Grandma all RSVP’d.
Romain’s family lives too far away; today is still not the day I’ll meet them.
Miranda was away for a DJ’ing gig overseas, but she did send a mountain of gifts.
My relationship with Marie remained unchanged despite the falling-out with Romain and we’re both grateful for that.
My adorable mom being shy about feeling her grandkid move.
She shed a few tears.
Aaaaaand…
SELFIE!
Time to open the gifts!
And receive some advice about raising kids from Mam.
Hugo and Pari did a great job with the decoration. She deserves all the hugs.
Oh, he didn’t dare. He wasn’t invited and he knows it.
‘How can we make the message clearer, Romain?”
‘I’m handling this, Hugo’.
Marie grabs her fiancé by the mohawk jacket, and with a last sorry wave to us, drags him out the door.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall in their home that evening.
The days are long and once the party is over, Hugo and I still have some daylight left to chill and relax on the balcony.
The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans) 