Sara's eyes groggily open, her old t-shirt riding high on her abdomen, sheets dangling off of her hips, one leg thrown off the bed, as if she'd collapsed onto the mattress, instantly falling asleep.
The heel of her palm comes to rub her eyes, attempting to see clearly, before making its way to her hair, stacked atop her head in a messy bun.
A yawn escapes her, as she glances at the glow of the numbers on the clock next to her. An ungodly hour reading back to her in screaming red numbers, and for a brief moment she feels panic run through her.
She had been due to wake up for a feeding nearly an hour ago, but she didn't hear any screams coming. Quickly glancing over her shoulder to the bed, she finds it empty. Her hand running over the sheet to find it cold, Michael having vacated it a while ago.
A sense of relief seemingly takes over her knowing that Michael was up, but she still felt a tug, luring her to check on her baby girl.
Throwing both her feet to the hardwood floor, she moves to stand, wobbling slightly, the lack of sleep messing with her sense of balance, needing a second to gain her faculties before darting off.
Her bare feet slap the wood, giving a hollow sound to the hallway as she pads her way to the nursery.
The past week had been something of an adjustment period. Her and Michael were still trying to find a good routine with Isla, while still giving Mike the attention that he needed, as well. He'd taken to being a big brother instantly, her heart having melted the first time she saw both her babies together, Mike's little finger wrapped in the even tinier fist of his little sister.
This time around had been different from Mike. The nerves were still there, no love lost on the second child. But she was no longer alone on this journey. Michael having been with her every step of the way, delicately handling their daughter. The tears shed last time from feeling alone were replaced this time with a relief that they had been given another chance.
Peeking into the room, she spots Michael sitting in the rocker they'd purchased months ago. Barely moving back and forth, the movement just enough to lull Isla to sleep. He stared down at her, mesmerized in her presence.
It wasn't the first time she'd caught him like this. She often caught him peering into the bassinet, a little grin playing on his lips, as he debated with himself whether to reach out and run his finger over her cheek, risking her waking up or simply just soaking her in quietly.
Tonight, it seemed he couldn't resist, having picked her up, cradling her in his arms.
The squeak of the floor alerts him of Sara's whereabouts, and he briefly moves to meet her eyes from his seat.
"Hey," she whispers, her smile unhidden in the dark, the soft glow of a nightlight near her.
He just smiles in response, and she takes that as an invitation to approach. Tiptoeing to where he sat, she kneels on one of the arms of the chair.
"Did she cry to eat?" Sara almost mouths to him, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby.
Michael shakes his head, as they both stare down at Isla. Her dark hair peeking out from the blanket she was wrapped in. Her tiny fingers grasping onto the edge of the floral print.
"Probably soon," he says, his long fingers moving to adjust her closer to him, causing her to stir for a second, both of them holding their breath, before she settled again.
Sara nods, knowing it was just a matter of time before her cries rang out through the house.
"She's so perfect," he says with a grin, looking up at Sara. And she swears she can feel her heart flutter at the adoration he has for their family, reflected back to him in Sara's amber eyes.
"Mhmm," she hums, resting her head against his arm, her eyes slowly closing. The exhaustion of the past week catching up to her. Her eyes fluttering shut, snuggled into her husband.
The distinct patter of Mike's footsteps heard as she drifted to sleep.
"Are they sleeping?" She hears.
A soft shhhh whispered, accompanied with laugh from Mike at the sight of both Scofield girls passed out.
The entire family huddled in one room, the only adjustment appearing to be their sleeping arrangements as they fell right into the normalcy of a family of four.