Work Text:
In a rare moment of quiet on the bus to the hotel in Portugal for the Algarve Cup, Ashlyn opens her room key envelope, taking out the paper that says who her roommate is, just for kicks. It’s been ages since she’s roomed with anyone but the woman currently sleeping beside her, head against Ashlyn’s shoulder, but it never gets old, especially after years of roommates and secret rendezvous in hotel stairwells that made them both feel like teenagers.
Ali Krieger, it reads, and Ashlyn can’t help herself, she has to take a picture for Snapchat. “Again?” she types, including the eye roll emoji. The only thing she doesn’t love about it is that pesky last name. They haven’t fought about it, not really, but there have been a few heated discussions that usually just end when they realize they aren’t going to agree—at least not yet.
“What are you doing?” Ali mumbles, her eyes slowly blinking open.
“Just looking to see if I lucked out again,” Ashlyn whispers, kissing her on the forehead. “Turns out I did.”
“Ha,” Ali says, sitting up slowly. “If it’s anything like it has been the past two weeks, you might be begging for a trade.” She looks down at the baby sleeping soundly in a sling in her lap. She has a car seat for bus rides, but Ali prefers keeping her close. “Now she sleeps.”
The past few weeks between camp and home have been tough on Natalie, their 9-month-old, who deals with time change as well as you can expect an infant to—hell, Ashlyn is 32 and still gets cranky when she’s jet lagged—but on top of that, she’s been fighting an ear infection for the past week. It’s arguably been even tougher on her parents, who train all day and desperately need their sleep at night.
“I’d never trade you guys,” Ashlyn says. “But maybe the secret is to just stay on the bus all night.”
“I just want eight hours,” Ali says. “Is that so much to ask for?” Ashlyn smiles sympathetically, wrapping her arm around Ali.
“She’s worth it, though,” she reminds her, and Ali nods.
“Yeah, she’s pretty cute,” she agrees. They both take a moment to admire their child, the picture perfect angel in her sleep. When she’s awake, she’s still pretty cute, but less cute when hungry at 4 a.m.
Before they realize it, they’ve both fallen back asleep, resting on each other, but it feels like just a split second before the bus comes to a stop and Natalie wakes up, wailing. The rest of the girls who were sleeping start to wake up, which is fine because they’ve arrived at the hotel, but there are certainly more pleasant ways to wake up.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Ali says, bouncing her lightly. Ashlyn is already elbow deep in the baby bag for the formula to make a bottle.
Ali had cried for days after her milk supply ran out due to training. She had been determined to breastfeed for at least six months, but her body—as incredible and capable as Ashlyn has seen it be for so many things—eventually made her choose. She blamed herself every time Natalie so much as sneezed for the next few weeks, but the doctor has given both mother and baby glowing reviews on their progress since day one, and when Ali got called back in for her first training camp, she knew it was worth it.
“Let me take her,” Ashlyn says, stretching out her arm to take the baby from Ali. She coaxes her mouth open with the bottle, and the baby immediately quiets down, making only her tiny baby noises that are so much more pleasant.
Somehow Ali (who Ashlyn has dubbed Superwoman for so many reasons) manages to carry all their bags off the bus by herself, and when they get to the luggage carts, Alex and Tobin are waiting by one onto which they’ve already loaded Natalie’s car seat as well as Ali and Ashlyn’s bag.
“It takes a village,” Alex says, tickling Natalie’s foot, but she is unfazed and completely enamored with her bottle. That certainly has been the motto since Natalie was born.
Ali had been due in late May, but the doctors warned that first pregnancies sometimes take longer, and Natalie took her sweet time. One particularly warm night in early June had seen Ashlyn waking up in the middle of the night and turning to Ali, who was asleep, but woke up seconds later, her eyes wide. “It’s time,” she had said, but somehow Ashlyn had already known. She felt a certain level of protectiveness that went above and beyond a normal parent, she thought. Part of it was defensiveness about her role as a mom.
Everyone has the same questions—not even questions as much as thinly disguised judgments: so, the baby’s not biologically yours… how does that work? Do you feel like Ali is always going to be more connected to her? And she still doesn’t have the answers. It works because that was their plan. Ali wanted to be a “badass” mom, and Ashlyn wanted a family with Ali. Ali wanted to carry a baby, so that’s what she did. But if anyone else could feel what Ashlyn did when she first saw her daughter, what she feels when she wakes up to her beautiful family, what she feels when Natalie falls asleep on her chest after a long day, they wouldn’t dare ask the second question.
When they started this journey, everything required verbal communication all the time, but now, when Ali and Ashlyn walk into their hotel room, they wordlessly navigate around each other, save for a stolen kiss here and there when Ali brushes by Ashlyn on the way to the bathroom. Ashlyn sets up the portable crib and high chair, where she sets Natalie with a small Tupperware of Cheerios, while Ali unpacks the diapers and wipes and refrigerates all the milk and food necessary to chill.
Finally, Ali flops onto the bed, spent. It’s a bit silly, really, that they still get a room with two queen beds considering they only use one, but the closeness is nice. At home, they have a massive bed, and though they tend to sleep close, some days are particularly exhausting and Ali passes out long before Ashlyn—or vice versa—and neither one wants to wake the other, opting instead for a night snuggling a pillow.
“Scoot,” Ashlyn says, laying beside her. They know they probably have about fifteen minutes before Natalie finishes her Cheerios, so they spend them kissing lazily, neither one attempting to ramp up the passion.
When Ashlyn thought about the perception from the outside looking in, she felt like less of a mom, so she may have overcompensated a bit at first when the baby was born, almost to the neglect of being a wife. Ali appreciated everything Ashlyn did, but eventually they had to sit down and have a talk about not letting their romance take a backseat to their job as moms and figuring out how to let the two roles coexist.
These small moments of quiet intimacy keep them sane when everything could be so overwhelming otherwise. So when Natalie squeals for attention, making grabby hands to be picked up out of her high chair, they are recharged and ready to be moms again.
~
Natalie is a perfect angel at team dinner, likely because she thrives on attention, especially from her more than 20 aunts. Kelley probably plays peek-a-boo with her for thirty minutes before Becky takes over to feed her peas and carrots, and Ali and Ashlyn are able to breathe and enjoy a meal without worrying about her.
But when it comes time for bed, it’s a completely different story. No sooner does Ashlyn fall asleep, Ali snuggled close to her chest, than Natalie wakes up, not screaming, but fussing. Ali tells Ashlyn to stay in bed as she wriggles out of her grip to comfort the baby. She rocks her back to sleep without a problem, and Ashlyn watches her, amazed. She’ll never not be impressed by how naturally it seems to come to her.
They take turns getting up in the night when Natalie is screaming her head off, mostly concerned about the girls in the rooms on either side of theirs waking up. First she’s hungry, then she needs a diaper change, and finally, around 5 a.m., she decides she’s up for good. When Ashlyn wakes up around 6, Ali looks miserable.
“Baby,” Ashlyn says, getting up to take Natalie off her hands. “Get some sleep, I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was still awake.”
“If I go to sleep now I’ll never wake up,” Ali says. “Can you just get me coffee? Please? I can’t go downstairs and see the girls like this.”
“You’ve got it,” Ashlyn says, kissing the top of her head.
When she gets back to the room after having to avoid conversation with everyone in order to get the coffee to Ali still hot, Ali is asleep in the chair, Natalie gleefully mashing banana pieces with her tiny fists in her high chair.
“Messy girl,” Ashlyn laughs, wiping her mouth with her bib. “Hey, honey, I brought your coffee,” she whispers, waking Ali gently.
“You’re the best,” Ali mumbles, leaning her head back for a kiss, which Ashlyn happily grants.
~
Training is rough, to say the least. Ashlyn watches Ali grow increasingly frustrated with her performance, and even though she was doing fine at the beginning, she won’t get out of her head enough to focus on training, and it starts to affect her.
It’s not even like she’s expecting to start most of these games, given how long she’s been away from the team, but she’s back with a chip on her shoulder and a point to prove. Ashlyn is just thrilled to have Ali and Natalie both back on the road with her, and she’s seen Ali fight back to be better than ever like she does every time she hits an obstacle.
When they take a water break, Ashlyn jogs across the field to where Ali was, but she doesn’t see her. “Where’s Ali?” she asks Hope, who nods toward the tunnel to the locker room. When Ashlyn gets there, she sees A Rod and Ali, who’s crying. “Baby, what happened?” she asks.
“She’s fine, she just needed a little break,” A Rod says. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” she asks Ali, squeezing her shoulder. Ali nods, and A Rod gives Ashlyn a sympathetic smile as she jogs back to the field.
“This was a mistake,” Ali sobs into Ashlyn’s chest as soon as they’re alone.
“What do you mean?” Ashlyn asks, rubbing her back gently. “Breathe, Alex.”
“How am I supposed to keep up on this level when I can’t even keep my eyes open?” she asks. “It’s never going to get better.”
“Not with that attitude,” Ashlyn says gently. “She’s sick, honey. And she’s teething. It’s bad timing, I know, but you’re doing amazing. The only thing standing in your way is you. When you get frustrated with yourself, I need you to look at me. And believe me when I tell you that you’re fine. You’re better than fine.”
Ali nods quickly, wiping her eyes. “I’m just tired and overwhelmed and I hate being away from her when she’s like this.”
“I know,” Ashlyn says. “But she’s in good hands, and at least she’s here with us and not in Florida with your mom, right?” That had been Plan B, but Ali started getting anxious about being away from her for more than a few days, and when she got sick, Ashlyn knew there was no way they’d be able to focus on the Algarve if their baby was an ocean away. Not that a transatlantic flight is particularly enjoyable with a baby with an ear infection, but both are much more at ease with her nearby.
“Yeah,” Ali says. “I don’t know why I’m getting like this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry,” Ashlyn says. “I want you to tell me how you feel always. We’re a team, remember? On the field, if you don’t communicate, you lose. Same thing being moms, okay?”
“I know,” Ali says. “I know. I love you.”
Ashlyn responds by kissing her on the forehead, pulling her in for a final hug before they return to training, where they team up on a 5v5 to keep a clean sheet against Alex’s team, something Ashlyn won’t let her live down.
Ali is her usual smiling self when practice ends, and she and Ashlyn stick around to chat and run a few extra drills with Dawn, who doesn’t seem at all concerned by Ali’s performance today, reaffirming that she’s one of the fittest and fastest on the team, even compared to the girls in their early 20s who certainly didn’t have a baby come out of them nine months ago and screaming all night last night.
“Speaking of, we should probably go take ours off Jessica’s hands,” Ali says, referring to the nanny who travels with the team when any kids are around. On the way back to the hotel, Ashlyn can’t help but smile as Ali rambles about tactics and game plans and defending set pieces. She loves Ali the mom, and she loves Ali the wife, but Ali the passionate soccer player has been missing for a while, and she’s glad to have her back.
When they get to the conference room where the kids usually hang out, they aren’t there.
“Maybe they went to the pool?” Ashlyn suggests, looking around for the time.
“We did that earlier,” Jessica says from the doorway, and they spin around, relieved to hear her voice. “Sorry, I don’t have Natalie.”
“What?” Ali exclaims. “What do you mean?”
“I do have this, though.” Jessica hands Ashlyn a piece of paper with a note scribbled on it and a plastic card Ashlyn doesn’t bother looking at, reading the note out loud first.
“Sorry mommies,” she reads. “I love you both but a girl needs some time with her favorite aunties. I’m going to watch basketball (Go Heels!) and have a slumber party with Whit and HAO. Don’t wait up. Oh, and look at that! HAO must have accidentally left her credit card. Guess you better go get a fancy dinner (and wine, lots of it). If you spend less than $100, you’re doing it all wrong. Love, Natalie.”
Ashlyn looks at the card in her hand, and lo and behold, it’s HAO’s credit card. Ali takes it from her, eyes wide in disbelief. “They can’t do that!” she exclaims, her voice panicky, but Jessica is already gone.
“Relax, baby,” Ashlyn says. “They’re trying to do something nice for us.”
“But all I want to do after a practice like that is shower and crawl into bed with my family,” Ali says, and her eyes start to well with tears.
“Alex,” Ashlyn says gently, her hands rubbing Ali’s arms. “I’m with you. But practice today wouldn’t have been like that if you’d gotten to catch up on sleep. And I, for one, want to see you get a full eight hours for the first time in weeks.”
“You just want to sleep with me,” Ali grumbles, and Ashlyn laughs.
“Maybe that too,” she says, kissing her on the lips. “But remember that agreement we made way back when? About not letting being moms get in the way of us being people? That’s something all our friends agreed to help us out with if they ever saw it happening. We have good friends, Al, and they love our baby so much.”
“Not as much as we do,” Ali mumbles. And ideally, all she really wants is to crawl into bed with her baby and her wife and go to sleep, but even she knows that’s not possible. If Natalie were there, she’d be sick and screaming, and Ali and Ashlyn would be miserable seeing her like that and not being able to do anything to help. And none of them would get any sleep, mostly because the time Natalie spends sleeping is the time her parents stay up worrying about her well-being, neglecting their own.
“No,” Ashlyn agrees. “But they can love on her for a night while I remind you just how much I love you. And just how good it can feel to sleep uninterrupted for a night.”
“Those were the days,” Ali says, sighing into Ashlyn’s neck. “I only have one request.”
“Anything.”
“I’m okay using HAO’s card,” Ali says. “But I do not want to dress up and go out. All I want is you, me, a bottle of champagne, and a bubble bath.”
“I think we can manage that,” Ashlyn says, wrapping her arms around Ali’s shoulders.
“You know,” Ali says, leaning into Ashlyn as they make their way toward the elevators. “I always wanted to be the best mom in the world, but if I have to share the title with someone, I'm so glad it's you.”