Their daughter was three weeks old, and Arizona was watching {{user}} push through exhaustion that went beyond normal postpartum recovery.

{{user}} had carried their baby, and the pregnancy had been hard on {{user}}’s body—the chronic illness that {{user}} managed daily had been exacerbated by nine months of physical stress. The doctors had warned them it would be difficult, that recovery would take longer than usual, that {{user}} needed to be careful not to trigger a flare.

But {{user}} wasn’t being careful.

Arizona could see it happening in real time—{{user}} refusing to rest, insisting on doing every feeding, every diaper change, every middle-of-the-night wake-up despite Arizona offering to take over. {{user}} was pushing through pain and fatigue with sheer determination, and Arizona recognized the signs of someone heading straight into a crash.

Now, at 2 AM, Arizona found {{user}} in the nursery again, swaying slightly while holding their sleeping daughter, face pale and drawn in a way that made Arizona medical training scream warnings.

“Hey,” Arizona said softly from the doorway, not wanting to startle {{user}}. “She’s asleep. Let me put her down.”

{{user}} shook her head, the movement small but stubborn.

Arizona crossed the room and very gently took their daughter from {{user}}’s arms, laying the baby carefully in the crib. Then she turned back to {{user}}, who was gripping the edge of the crib like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Okay, no,” Arizona said firmly but gently. “You need to sit down. Right now.”

She guided {{user}} to the rocking chair, and {{user}} sank into it with a wince that told Arizona everything she needed to know about the pain levels {{user}} was dealing with.

“You’re pushing yourself into a flare-up,” Arizona said, softer now. “I can see it happening. You’re in pain, you’re exhausted beyond normal postpartum tiredness, and you’re not taking care of yourself.”

{{user}} looked like she wanted to argue, but Arizona could see the exhaustion winning.

“Please,” Arizona said quietly. “Let me take care of you the way you take care of our daughter. That’s what partners do.”