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Sara stared at the ceiling blankly, not so much aware of her surroundings as tethered by them. A bizarre feeling of numbness had wrapped itself around her like an unfortunately familiar blanket, a far-off buzzing ticking incessantly in her ears. The freshly laundered bedsheets rustled faintly, almost imperceptibly, as Ava set the laundry basket at the head of their bed. Sara lay crosswise, just the tips of her toes dangling off the side of the bed. A bed she had, at first, felt uncomfortable in, in its roominess and luxury. Ava’s proponents for the simple things in life-- in this case, a higher thread count bed set-- had made it feel all the more luxurious. A luxury she had at first been uncomfortable with. Over time, she had become accustomed to, and reveled in, that luxury and the relationship that signaled it.
A relationship that was about to change forever.
Her guts twisted and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
Why was this happening to her? Why couldn’t she just be happy, and married, and happy?
Sara laid a contemplative hand over her stomach, feeling the prominent ridges and dip of her muscle with her fingertips. Feeling everything that was about to change forever. Her body. Her marriage. Her life. Her breath caught in her throat painfully, and she closed her eyes. A tear still squeezed its way out and down her cheek.
“Sara, baby, are you okay?” Ava asked, eyebrows creased with concern. She abandoned the cardigan she’d been folding. Sara opened her eyes again to see Ava’s panicked gaze, the way her eyes flicked to Sara’s stomach. Ava’s hesitancy and fear. Sara’s hand pressed down against her stomach, palm flat over her bellybutton.
“I can’t do this.” Sara gasped, panic closing its iron-clad fingers around her windpipe. Ava closed the distance, the bed near Sara’s feet dipping slightly as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Her hands faltered in midair, and that felt like another punch to Sara’s throat. “I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough. I’m not good enough.”
The warm weight of Ava’s hand materialized on Sara’s thigh, just above her knee, roving in loose circles that were trying so hard to be comforting. Trying so hard to offer companionship and space at the same time. Sara’s hand tightened into a fist, emotions broiling deep inside her.
Her stomach was tight and sore from throwing up (followed by hours of retching, once her stomach had discharged the eggs and bacon) at the smell of coffee. Coffee, one of her favorite things in the entire universe, the one constant, the one taste and smell of home no matter where she went on the planet. Her mother-daughter day out, her sneaking visits to her father at work, her college homesickness remedy, her first taste of post-Amazo civilization (and the first step to being okay again). Laurel’s first gift to her when her soul had been put back into her body. The scent of coffee had caused her body to rebel, embryonic panic materializing into outright rejection of poisonous caffeine compounds.
Her alien reaction to coffee was about to be mirrored by every inch of her soon-to-be alien body-- a body taken over by the burgeoning human in it, etching its existence in stretch marks across a growing belly. Painful, milk-swollen breasts, swelling feet, aching back. Heartburn, gasping to catch her breath, dizziness, tiny feet and hands and elbows pushing against her internal organs. Once again, her body would no longer belong to her. Her body wouldn’t be hers any more-- it wouldn’t be her . Not as she saw herself, as she wanted to be, as she felt she was. It would belong to the baby, an unlicensed driver and she the vehicle careening towards a cliff.
I was on bedrest for a month and a half and you still came early! I could barely get up to go to the bathroom, your dad practically had to wait on me hand and foot!
And at the end of all of it a new human being reliant on her. Her breasts already ached at the thought of breastfeeding, a tiny mouth latched around her nipple, relying on her for every drop of life. A baby reliant on her hands for safety and protection and care. A baby reliant on her heart for love.
She hadn’t realized that she’d been talking out loud until she felt Ava’s lips. They pressed tenderly against Sara’s stomach, a warm puff of breath nearly making her shiver. She realized her cheeks were traitorously damp.
Ava took a long, deep breath, nose and lips still pressed against her wife’s stomach, drinking in the scent of the love of her life. When she could take no more air, she raised her head and exhaled into an open mouthed kiss right below Sara’s belly button, one hand gently stroking Sara’s side.
“I know how scared you are.” Ava whispered before placing another gentle kiss. “I can’t even imagine how you must feel. How afraid.” Another kiss. “But you’re not alone in this. At least, not completely.” Sara whimpered, and Ava rubbed a soothing hand across her abdomen before placing the next kiss. “I can’t stop what's going to happen to your body. But I’ll be there to hold you everytime it starts to hurt again.” She placed her promise with another gentle kiss. “I’ll be here when you look down and you don’t feel like you belong to yourself anymore. I’ll be here to remind you of you .”
Sara grasped onto Ava’s hand like she was a lifejacket in the open ocean. Ava kissed her palm, the back of her hand, the bend of her wrist.
“I know how scary change can be.” Ava whispered, pressing her body against Sara’s and kissing her collarbone. “And I’ll be here for every step of it. I’ll always be there to hold your hair back, and get you extra pillows, and feed you whatever weird foods you crave with as little judgment as possible.” Sara snorted, a smile ghosting over her face before she finally succumbed, melting into the love of her wife. “I’ll be there to hold your hand every second of labor.” She managed a kiss on Sara’s nose before the pregnant woman nuzzled her face into the crook of Ava’s neck. “And I’ll wake up at every cry of the baby.” Ava rested her hand lightly over Sara’s stomach.
“You’re not in this all alone, my love. I know how scared you feel, and how overwhelmed you are. But we’re together.” Sara loosened her deathgrip on Ava’s shirt to reach down, layering her hand over Ava’s. “You’re going to be a great mother. We’re going to be a beautiful family.”