Page 77 of Power Play

Mel laughs. “They get more independent, but they still need you, just in a different way. At least at this age they aren’t so mobile. It’s when they start to run that everything changes.”

“Oh, yay,” I deadpan.

“Watching them learn and grow… there’s nothing like it. It’s so rewarding.”

“Don’t you ever want… more? Outside of the kids?”

She shrugs. “I work part-time with a nonprofit. It’s hard with the team’s schedule, being the default parent all the time. I was fine with one kid, but when the second came, I knew I needed an outlet outside of the babies. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids to pieces, but I was losing a part of myself. So we increased the hours with the nanny, and I started working again, and I’m much happier.”

“I don’t want her to think I don’t want to be around her. That I’m passing her off to someone else because I can’t handle it. That I don’t want her.”

I chose to be her mother. I chose to stay with her—for her.

“Okay, so on an airplane, they tell you to put your oxygen mask on before the kids’ mask, right?” Mel waits for me to nod. “You have to take care of yourself first, or you will burn out, and then it will be even more challenging. Some women don’t need an outlet outside of their kids, but others do, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s not selfish to put yourself first if it means you’re a better mother and wife.”

“Hmm.” Everything she’s saying makes sense. It’s what I needed to hear, even if I didn’t want to.

“And honestly, it’s healthy for her to have other adults in her life that she knows and trusts. If anything happens to you…”

I swallow, thinking of Carter. My heart aches, but it’s not that sharp, stabbing pain I used to have. The hurt has been dulled by time, and I’m getting better at dealing with it every day.

“She already lost her biological mother. I don’t want her to lose me too. Or Al.”

“Right. It doesn’t make you less of a mother to accept you need help. It doesn’t mean you aren’t doing a good job. Being a parent is hard fucking work. It’s all-consuming. Whatever you can do to make it easier for yourself, do it. If you don’t have a village behind you, it’s almost impossible.”

I’ve noticed she doesn’t come over when Vanessa and Audrey do, and for a little while, I convinced myself it was because she didn’t think I was worthy of hanging out with. Maybe it’s more so that she doesn’t have the bandwidth, either.

“A few of us… we get together for playdates on Thursday mornings, if you’d like to join us.”

Mel frowns. “It’s hard with a three-year-old and little babies. They can’t really play together yet.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that.”

Most of the time, we watch while Leo and Emmy crawl around the living room, and Cora sleeps or eats. Mel’s little one is right in the middle, two months younger than Emmy and two months older than Cora.

“When they’re a bit bigger, definitely,” she says with a smile. “I’d love to attend.”

Emmy is snoozing now, snuggling into my neck. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she gained about ten pounds in a minute.

“I’m going to set her down before I get nap trapped.” I laugh. “Learned that lesson the hard way.”

“Do it, quick!” Her knowing smile reminds me I’m not doing this alone. That I’m not the only one in the trenches, struggling day to day.

She’s right; I have to put my oxygen mask on first, and I need to take better care of myself. I can’t look out for Emmy if I burn out.

There’s a harrowing moment when I think she wakes up, but I successfully transfer Emmy to her car seat, then bring her down to where I was sitting. Bex silently offers me some of her nachos, and I dunk a chip into the gooey cheese with a quiet thanks.

“Gonzo’s looking good out there,” she says. “He’s taken four shots on goal this period. Sooner or later, one’s going in.”

“Let’s hope so.” He’s always in a better mood when he scores a goal. Not that he’s ever truly grumpy, just downtrodden. Defeated. I’ll do whatever I can to cheer him up.

An idea starts to form. He tried to plan a nice evening for us, with candles and a home-cooked meal. But we haven’t gone anywhere together, only the two of us. If we’re going to be a couple, an actual couple, we need to do things without the baby.

I nudge Vanessa. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Anytime,” she says immediately, and her easy acceptance reassures me that I’m doing the right thing.

“Do you mind sharing your nanny’s phone number? I need help.”