fingerprints by Kelsey Aijala Illustration by Stephanie "Ricky" Richards
Emma woke in the middle of the night to notice she’d turned toward the side of the bed, away from her husband. It had been like that since Cara’s birth. Their bodies would shift unconsciously out of the facing embrace that they’d fallen asleep in for the six years of their marriage and the two before that, orienting themselves toward something new. Sean’s hand still rested on her hip, framing the postpartum softness she started to worry she’d never lose, but holding her at a comfortable distance. She stretched her arm toward the bedside table to check her phone, careful not to change her delicate position. It was 3:36 a.m. Cara was sleeping through most nights now, but Emma still startled awake on occasion. Perhaps it was just habit, but secretly Emma thought she was overcompensating, making up for the maternal instinct for knowing when the baby’s in danger, which Emma was terrified she lacked. On the few occasions she woke Sean up during her checks, he always assured her that it was normal for a first time mother to be paranoid about these things, speaking as if this were his seventh child and not his first. It felt that way 16