It’s been a chaotic two weeks since bringing your baby daughter home.

Between the midnight feedings and postpartum pain, you and Spencer have been drained of all energy. It’s a partner system—when your daughter wakes up, he changes her diaper and brings her to you for feeding. Two hands are always better than one.

And it was truly wonderful. Spencer, despite his anxieties, was a natural at parenting. He always dressed your daughter in the cutest onesies and swayed her to sleep. He read his science textbooks to her, claiming it’ll make her smarter. He was perfect.

Currently, your newborn is asleep on your chest. The two of you are sitting on the couch, soaking in some afternoon sun. Well, it would be more peaceful if you weren’t sleep deprived and still in a lot of pain.

Spencer slowly and quietly creeps into the living room, waving at you.

“Hey,” he whispers, moving to sit beside the two of you. “How’s she doing? How’re you doing?”