our little family.
enter: sennia wisett
"Layne, Layne wake up!" Bree hisses in the dark, grasping Layne's shoulder and shaking her awake. Layne groans, glancing towards the clock.
"Baby what? It's 2:30--" "My water broke!" Shit.
They had been preparing for this moment for months, and Layne sprang into action, grabbing their pre-packed overnight bag, getting dressed hastily and grabbing the keys and her phone. Helping her pregnant wife into their Subaru slowly, she whips around to the driver's side and off they go to the hospital.
Upon arrival, the nurses help Bree into a wheelchair, Layne holding her wife's hand through every contraction. A sheen of sweat has formed on her face, and Layne's stomach is in knots. Even if they had taken classes, read every book and source imaginable, Layne was still feeling unprepared for what was to come. Still, she remained steadfast, coaching Bree through their learned breathing exercises and keeping her ice chips full.
"You're doing so good, baby," she smiles encouragingly, eyes darting from her face to her large belly. The doctor, a greying woman, smiles at the women and disappears between Bree's gown to check things, Layne looking expectingly.
"Okay honey, you're at 10 centimeters, and we're going to need you to start pushing..."
Bree looks horrified, even if she knew this was coming. A sharp inhale and she about squeezes Layne's fingers off as she begins to push in stages. The doctor and nurses coo and encourage her on, Layne brushing curly strays of hair from her wife's face. She leans close to her ear and speaks softly, "You're doing so good, baby. Just a few more..." Bree's eyes are wide, before squeezing shut again. In a few minutes, a cry emerges from between her legs.
The doctor's eyes are only visible above her mask, but Layne can tell she's smiling. "A beautiful baby girl."
Sennia Rose emerges at 5 lbs, 3 ounces on December 4th, 2024.
They receive the news that Layne is pregnant when Sennia is four years old. Precocious, rambunctious and the perfect mix of both Wisetts, she has filled their lives with immense joy. But the plan was always to have two, their little Avery James.
Sennia is in her bedroom, coloring an underwater themed coloring book, humming to herself. Layne and Bree watch her in the doorway for a bit, smiling to themselves. Bree slowly reaches over and rubs Layne's stomach softly, knowing positively now that their little boy is beginning to grow already. It's a tender moment, and Layne's eyes almost brim with tears, clasping her hand on top of Bree's.
"Senny?" Bree speaks, the little girl turning around immediately. "Mama B! Look, I drawed this for you!" She struggles to rip a colored page of dolphins out of her book, grunting adorably. "Careful honey, you don't want a papercut..." Layne cautions, trying to hold back a laugh.
Bree takes the artwork gingerly. "Another masterpiece for the fridge! Thank you, honey." She smiles at the little girl and playfully pokes her stomach, causing Senny to giggle and squirm. Layne walks further into the room and kneels down next to both of them, glancing at her wife briefly, before taking her little girl's hands in her own. "Senny, Mama B and I went to the doctor's today. And we have to tell you something amazing..."
Senny's eyes light up excitedly, bouncing on her feet. "What?! What!!" She yells, clapping her hands together.
"Well Senny, the doctor told us today that Mama L is pregnant, and that she's going to have a baby. Probably a little brother for you..." Bree grins, but Senny looks dejected. "A brother? But...I don't want a brother!" Senny's brow furrows, her arms crossed. Layne bites her lip nervously and looks up at Bree.
"Now Senny..." Bree begins, sternly. "It'll be good, you'll love him and you'll have someone to play with and he'll love you and--" "NO! I DON'T WANT A BROTHER!"
Layne sighs heavily.
Several months later, Avery James arrives. It takes precisely ten minutes for Sennia to warm up to the infant, and another ten minutes before she's arguing with Layne about giving him a snack.
Having two small children under the age of six was no easy feat. The parenting books had lamented about the joys of parenthood, and how exhausting it would be, but for some reason, Layne had pushed that notion out of her mind. However, now in her late thirties, Layne was finally feeling the creeping exhaustion that came with being a full time parent, part time director of HR. Or at least that's what it felt like.
Bree was also exhausted all the time, having cycles of busy seasons at the museum. Sadie was on maternity leave herself (a surprise to all of the Wisetts, old and young), so there were scarcely moments where Bree and Layne had to just be together on their own. Layne would be lying if she said it wasn't difficult.
It was finally 9pm on a Tuesday night in October. Avery had finally settled down to bed, and Sennia had finished her class project to create a mini solar system out of paper mache and was sound asleep. Or so they thought.
Slowly closing their bedroom door, Layne stares at Bree undressing to take a shower. Bree's removing her earrings above the sink, staring at Layne's reflection in the mirror. Even after all these years, their hunger for each other is ever-present. She turns and coaxes her forward, Layne moving quickly and wrapping her up into a passionate kiss, whimpering soft against her lips. Her hand shoves between Bree's thighs, moving in a familiar rhythm.
"Yeah, you like that?" Layne hisses familiarly, sucking on her neck. It only takes a few moments and Bree's covering her fingers, gasping against her wife's chest. Layne smirks and lazily kisses her, before noticing a "click" sound, as if a door had quietly closed. Bree and Layne freeze in horror.
The next morning, Layne is flipping pancakes and Bree is routinely getting the children ready for the day. Senny is chomping on some bacon at the dining table, staring at both her mothers. Bree and Layne exchange looks.
"Sennia, were you out of bed last night?" Layne finally breaks the silence, wanting to address the issue (if any) right away. She didn't need another call from the principal regarding Senny's colorful stories, even if nothing they had done was shameful.
Senny shrugs and says, through a hearty mouthful of bacon, "Yeah. I heard you and Mama B tickling each other. But Mama B wasn't laughing. She seemed in pain. Did you tickle her too much, Mama L?" She looked at her, seriously, yet inquisitively. Bree holds back a snort.
"O-Oh...tickling...yeah. No, I don't think so. She wasn't in pain, Mama B just gets a little silly when she's tickled..." Layne's eyes are bright, willing herself not to laugh as well. Bree bites her lower lip and says, "No, not painful at all. Probably not enough tickling, though. We'll have to tickle some more tonight, huh, Mama L?" Layne's cheeks turn pink and she chokes down some coffee.
"You guys need to stop fussing! Jesus!" Avery is sixteen years old, all limbs and shaggy hair, swatting his mothers' hands away from his black tuxedo. Bree and Layne laugh softly, straightening his tie. Layne begins to snap about a dozen photos on her phone, from various angles and in front of different backdrops. Senny watches from the couch, snickering profusely.
"You should've known they would do this, Ave. Do you not remember my prom three years ago?" Sennia takes a sip of coke and checks her phone idly.
"This is embarrassing! I have to go pick Chrisley up!" Avery had been dating Chrisley Larkin for precisely four months - Avery's first and longest relationship. He had forgone telling his mothers about the relationship for a good three of those months, though Layne had the intel from the moment it happened from Sennia, ever the blabbermouth. Chrisley was a nice enough girl, but "dumb as rocks," as Bree had privately stated one night when they were alone and casually chatting about their children. "It's just a high school love. Lord knows we didn't meet our forevers in high school..." Layne twirled her fingers around her wife's knuckles. "No, but I would've had I met you..." Bree cooes, grinning.
In the present, Avery climbs into his black truck and waves at his parents shortly before speeding off to pick up his date. "Take photos at her house once you're there! BE SAFE!!!" Layne calls, heaving a sigh.
"I saw him pack a condom." Sennia says flippantly, scrolling through her phone. Layne and Bree whip around quickly, glaring at her. "Kidding." She scoffs.
we're still here
The years pass with a certain ease, a certain strife, a certain loss, a certain joy. Senny graduates from college in Boston and begins her career in psychology, working in a tiny office near the Boston harbor with a few other counselors. Avery takes a different path, working on the Colorado River and guiding rafting tours in the summer months, while also working for the Conservation Corps. The pay is abysmal, but Avery's bones are strong, and he feels he is making a difference. It takes everything in Layne to not fall back on being the stereotype of her mother.
Their careers cultivate and grow, Bree eventually becoming owner and curator of their local museum and art gallery, Layne becoming Chief Operating Officer of Denver Health Medical Center. Their lives are stable, their house and vehicles paid off, their finances secure. Life is relatively good.
A phone call jolts Layne's concentration from her half-finished oil painting. In their older years, she finally picked her hobby back up and Bree had created a small little art studio in their home one year as an annniversary present. Sennia's voice fills her ears, "Mom! She proposed!" Senny had been dating the same woman throughout her university years. Senny being bisexual was a true surprise to both Bree and Layne, but a welcomed one nonetheless. Layne had always suspected her daughter, a slight carbon copy of herself, would always be way too independent to ever rely on the love of a man. She was right. "Hold on! Let me get your mom here and we'll facetime!"
Later that night, Bree, big spooning as always, kisses her wife's shoulder. "A wedding to plan for. Can you believe it?" She inhales softly and closes her eyes. Layne smiles, clapsing her hands on top of Bree's. "Thank you for giving me this life."