Archive of Our Own ^beta

Week 6

“So, why do we have to do this?”

“Because you went and got me pregnant.”

Ema and Kay are sitting in the lobby of a medical clinic, struggling with vastly different emotions. Ema has been rendered statuesque by the weight of her feelings, totally composed and static, like the professional woman she always pretends to be. Inversely, Kay is a twitching mess, with her legs crossed under her as she thumps a thigh against her chair.

However, neither of those descriptions reveals the emotions behind them. Ema is a million miles from being calm; she is panicked in so many ways that her body and mind are forced to run on autopilot to cope. Meanwhile, Kay is more excited than ever to have kids and can't keep her newfound energy contained.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone already knows I’m incredible.” For the last week, Kay's go-to conversation starter has been about being the first trans woman to get another one pregnant. The reminder doesn't make Ema feel better today, but when she's less stressed, she does find it charming. “But why are we coming in? I thought ultrasounds were a second-trimester thing?”

Ema raises her thumb to her mouth, biting her nail to hopefully ground herself. “You can do them whenever in a pregnancy. It just depends on the medical concerns of the mother. Given the experimental medical treatment of it all, my doctors want weekly check-ups.”

“Okay, I get that.” Kay leans into Ema's side and grabs her arm. She pulls Ema's hand away from her mouth and digs her thumbs into Ema's wrist to try to massage out the tension. “But why is your voice so stilted? What’s wrong, Mrs Science?”

“I’m fine, Kay.” Ema lies badly.

Kay wraps an arm around Ema’s shoulder to pull her even closer. “As sure as I am that that’s the truth, why don’t you indulge me in a hypothetical? What could be wrong?”

“Hypothetically?” Ema shifts her eyes onto Kay's sad face and then tosses them back across the room. She has her limits, as does Kay. “It’s not your job to worry about that. You’re already dealing with so much.”

“So much, but not too much.” Kay puts her chin on Ema’s head, arms moving to Ema’s shoulders to gently rub them. “Do you want to hear about what me and my therapist have been working on?”

Ema nods instead of speaking, pushing herself deeper into Kay’s body.

“Well, I told her about my mom dying during childbirth. I told her that me and my wife are trying to have a baby.” Kay moves one hand down to Ema's stomach, and it’s as sweet as it is misplaced. “And I told her about how scared I am of losing you.”

“And there’s a lot we talk about. Apparently, therapy is a multi-step process of growth and development. Who knew?” Kay and Ema both snicker, and they’re forced, but Ema feels a little lighter as she does it. Kay, much less so. “But, um. I’ve realized I’m not keeping my promise to you. You remember? From when we first decided to do this?”

Ema sighs. “You’d support my decision unconditionally.”

“Yeah.” Kay tightens her lips until they pop back open. “I haven't been loving you. I mean, I have. I always do, hokis, but not in the way I should. My fear comes before my love, and I… I hate that. I can't stand failing you like that. Can’t stand breaking every promise I’ve ever made to love and care for you, and….”

“And I can't imagine living without you, but if you do die, I know I can't survive knowing that I was too scared for the last two years we had together to give you all of my love.” Kay takes a long breath to take control of her whimpering voice. “Um. Obviously, I still have to work on those emotions, but I need to support you, too. So whatever you’re struggling with, I’m going to help you. I don’t know how much I can, but I have to try.”

“Mmm.” Ema nods. Her brain wants to talk, while her heart just wants to ease Kay's soul. It's an impossible decision to make, but when she speaks, it's with the hope that they can share both loads together. “I have this fear that I’ll lose the baby.”

“Or, um. That I have, I guess. That I miscarried and didn’t realize, or it’s been a phantom pregnancy this whole time.” Ema melts into Kay’s side, and Kay wraps her arms around her to keep her safe. “I have nightmares about seeing a barren ultrasound, and I want to die. And I can’t stop thinking I’ve just been deluding myself into ever thinking I’ll be a mom, and it’s all about to come crashing down.”

Kay’s voice is firm and sweet. “Well, you didn’t dream up our baby, and you will be a mother. And not in the way I usually mean that. I'm done with leaving room for other options. You are going to carry our baby to term, going to give birth, and then, the two of us will spend the rest of our lives raising our kid. Kids, even. If you’d like that.”

Kay spares a small chuckle for herself, but Ema can’t manage the will to perform her own. Instead, she lets out a quiet, almost sobbing, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Doctor Swann is about to prove me right. About everything.”

Week 9

“Ughhhhh!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!”

On their most unfortunate morning in months, Kay and Ema find themselves in their bathroom. Ema has her face deep in the toilet bowl, her voice half-groggy, half-angry, and completely doused in bile. Kay is sitting behind her, holding back Ema's hair as she goes through her first bout of morning sickness. Her first, rather late bout.

“Nine weeks!” Ema throws her head up in anguish far too quickly, and it immediately has to go back into the bowl. Thankfully, the vomit tempers her energy somewhat. “Nine weeks without vomiting. Do you know how lucky that is? This blows fuckin’ chunks…”

“Think that’s you, actually.” Kay gently rubs Ema’s back with one hand as her wife responds to that quip with a groan. “Oh, c’mon. Nine weeks is plenty lucky. Doesn’t it only last for the first, like, twelve?”

“Well, when you put it like that, three more weeks of twice-daily vomiting sounds incredible.” Ema tries to throw an annoyed glare at Kay, but again, she moves her head too quickly.

Kay snickers to herself. “Okay, maybe you’re right-.”

“Maybe?!” This time, Ema successfully swings her angry face towards Kay, though she can’t take it seriously when Ema is drooling all over herself. “I’m ‘maybe’ right?”

“You’re right. You’re right.” Kay throws her arms up in surrender but smiles. She’s more amused than intimidated. “You’re always right, my little scientific genius. But there is a silver lining to having morning sickness. It’s real, tangible proof that you’re pregnant.”

Ema scoffs, but her sickly face can't hide that Kay's words get to her. Despite the three ultrasound appointments they've had where they've been reassured that Ema is pregnant, connecting the scant cells in the imaging to their baby has felt impossible. Their baby still feels like a dream to them both, but Ema's vomit is far more solid.

“Don’t…” Ema snickers, hiding her smiling face from Kay by cuddling into her. “Don’t try to put a positive spin on vomiting. Even you aren’t suave enough to do that.”

“Maybe…”

That word seems to linger in the air forever, but not because Kay keeps hold of it. All she does is hold Ema as her wife’s heartbeat slows down, and time follows her lead. For the first time in months—for the first time in the year they’ve been going down this long road—Kay feels Ema’s heart calm. As mad as she is about having morning sickness, something about the medical connection gives Ema something to latch onto.

It gives Ema something that makes her feel like a mother.

It gives her something to be happy about.

And that? That makes Kay smile.

Week 11

“So, do you want the good news first, or-.”

“Don’t even think about finishing that!”

Kay and Ema both turn and scream into the face of Dr. Swann Childs, nearly scaring her out of her chair and onto the floor. She's an old college friend of Ema's and the one responsible for Ema having her place in the clinical trial, but as much as that means they shouldn't be screaming her half to death, 'bad news' is a banned term in their Lexicon. Thankfully, Swann is well accustomed to dealing with the two of them.

“Right, right. Superstitious weirdos…” Swann spits out a chuckle and shakes their head, yellowed dreadlocks swaying. She reaches for a piece of examination equipment bolted to the wall, though not the ultrasound machine Kay and Ema are accustomed to. “I swear, you were so much smarter back in college. What did Em’ do to you, Faraday?”

“Shut it, waterfowl.” Kay and Swann are more old college frenemies, with the ‘fr-’ a very recent development. “Stress my Emmy out, and I will destroy you. ‘Kay?”

“Oh, what are you going to do, Mrs. Prosecutor-. Oh. Yeah. That.” Swann hits a few switches on the machine before pulling earbuds out of her lab coat and plugging them in. “Alright, we would expect your baby to have developed a functioning heart by now. To check for that, I'm going to have to perform a transvaginal ultrasound, and we’re all just going to have to agree to be normal about that. ‘Kay?”

“Transvaginal…? Does that mean-?”

“Yep.” Swann throws a condom wrapper into Kay’s face before grabbing a long, plastic wand-looking thing from the machine. Just imagining it touching her artificial cervix makes Ema cringe. “It won’t hurt, but it does feel weird. And if the two of you can be normal for once, I’ll even let you listen to their heartbeat once I’m done.”

Kay hands the unwrapped condom to Swann before pressing herself against Ema’s shoulder. She wraps both of her hands around one of Ema’s, smiling at her, before pressing a kiss to her forehead as the transducer enters her vagina. Discomfort is the best word to describe the look on Ema’s face, but Kay does her best to distract Ema from it. And when kissing her becomes too awkward, Kay directs Ema to the monitor.

“Look…”

They've seen them before. Every week, they see their baby sketched out in the grey lines of the ultrasound monitor. And every week, they change just a little. From a dreamlike dot to the humanoid blob they are now, Kay and Ema have watched them develop. But, unlike their baby, the couple never changes.

It's the same every week. Kay and Ema look at their baby, and their hearts melt. It doesn't matter how dreamlike or real the image feels. If the image is crystal clear or a complete mess. Their baby is the most beautiful and overwhelming thing they have ever witnessed. The whole wide world rolled up into one can't compare to the images in their heads of the life all three will have together. Kay, Ema, and their child—all together.

“Their heart is perfectly healthy. You really were born to mother, Skye.” Swann looks up at them, and they can feel the emotions in the air. Pulling the earbuds out, they hand them over to Kay with a soft smile. “It’s overwhelming to most parents, but if you two are comfortable with it, you should listen to their heart. There’s a magic to it, or whatever you nerds believe in…”

Kay and Ema exchange nervous looks before lifting the buds to their ears. They silently stare into each other's eyes as the second stretches on for an eternity. Then, a single heartbeat. This overwhelming thump fills their heads and hearts, and every emotion in their bodies joyfully spills from their eyes as they discover the newest miracle of childbirth. Swann just smiles and leaves the two mothers to have their moment together.

Week 14

The Great Thief Yatagarasu, far too commonly known as Kay Faraday, spins around a water tower pole with a brick of a phone in her hands. There's a bag strapped across her body filled with incriminating servers from a data harvesting firm, but Kay’s heist has been put on hold. Criminals might not answer to the law, but they do to their pregnant wives.

Kay sighs, snickers, and squats down on the rooftop.

Kay's crime phone doesn't support emojis, but she substitutes the clapping one she'd usually send with a real-life clap. Thankfully, Ema doesn’t like emojis, so the unseeable act is already more for Kay than her.

Ema’s typing indicator disappears for a few seconds, and then Kay gets an explanation in the form of a voice message. She smiles at the sight, hitting play and indulging herself in Ema's warm, beautiful voice.

“Shut! The Hell Up! Faraday!”

Kay falls onto her back as she surrenders to her laughter, bringing her phone to her mouse to record it. She shoots it to Ema and then continues to chuckle as her phone constantly vibrates from the fuming texts Ema sends her. When Kay can sit upright again, she messages back.

Week 17

“Well, now, what are you doing here?”

Kay walks into her and her wife's home with a peppy jaunt in her voice and her tabi heels because, for whatever reason, Ema is home. It's no secret that Kay loves any chance to see her lovely Emmy, but this is a confusing moment to see her. It's the middle of Ema's workday, and her deep passion for forensic science means Ema never takes days off—pregnancy be damned.

“Laying on the couch. Steel Samurai reruns are on if you want to watch with me.” Drowning on the couch might be a more accurate description of Ema, practically nesting in a closet's worth of pillows and blankets she's swaddled herself in.

“There’s a half-finished Jammin’ Ninja box set on the coffee table. Come on, Em’!” Kay manoeuvres around the mess to sit next to Ema’s head, replacing one of the pillows with her lap. “I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”

“Oh my god…” Ema rolls her eyes, but it lacks Ema’s sarcasm. Honestly, it lacks any energy or feeling. “I’m not going to watch those without you. It’d be cruel.”

“And what about with me?”

“That’s not the point of what I said.”

“I suppose not.” Kay reaches into one of her thigh bags, pulling out a hairbrush. She removes the hair tie from Ema's floof before fanning her hair across her lap to brush it. “Now, why are you home? Ema Skye doesn’t remove herself from the forensic lab.”

“At some point, I have to develop some work-life balance.” Ema gets a little snark into her voice, but then her emotions catch and swallow her. “Especially with the, um. With-. With the baby…”

Kay tilts her head. “Okay, so let's talk about why that made you so nervous. Because I’m the one who gets nervous about our pregnancy. You are the one who says she was born to be a mom, and I believe you, even though we know that’s literally untrue.”

“I’m not nervous about the baby. I’m not nervous about anything. I’m… I’m sad, Kay.”

“Oh, hokis. What’s wrong?” Kay sneaks in a forehead kiss as she continues to brush Ema’s hair.

“My, um-. It finally happened. The secret is out. My boss knows I’m pregnant.” Ema closes her eyes, her breathing heavy but stable. “I don’t know if Edgeworth said something or if Gumshoe did it or if I just can’t hide my baby bump anymore, but he knows now.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Ema chuckles. “Didn’t want to. I wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible. ‘Cause now he’s scheduling a meeting with accessibility to have me transferred to a safer department, and it just… it hurts. And, cruelly, it’s for the best. The forensics lab is a dangerous place for a pregnancy. I can’t deny that. But it just… it really fucking hurts.”

“O-oh.” Kay’s hands waiver, just like her voice. “Being forced to choose between your career dreams and your dreams of parenthood isn’t fair. But, I mean, at least it’s only temporary?”

“I know, but that’s what we’ve said about everything. I was in and out of surgery for three months. They’re making me take this week off, and then I’ll be in the file room for five months. And then maternity leave is at least two months, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to return to work by then, and I just… I want to do my job. A whole year of my life will have gone by, and I will only have been a forensic investigator for some forty days.”

“I guess I never realized how much of myself I’d have to give up from them.” Ema moves a hand to her baby bump, and Kay knows that sight even with all the blankets.

“I-. I’m sorry.” Kay’s eyelashes flutter, and a tear forms in the inside corner of her right eye. She tries to hide the sight from Ema, but even if she’s successful, Ema knows how Kay feels. “I never even thought about that. So focused on the baby…”

“That’s right where your focus should be.” Ema pushes herself up, leaning into Kay’s side as she kisses her cheek. “Motherhood is a much bigger deal than me being sad about my job.”

Kay nods and picks back up her hairbrush. “I know, but that doesn’t stop me from being sad. I always feel like it’s my responsibility to keep you from being sad, so when you are, I feel like I’ve failed you.”

“Well, that’s stupid.” Ema’s good at being blunt and breaking tension. “I mean, it’s sweet. I love that you care so much about me. But that’s also not your responsibility. For everything I ask of you, sweetie, one of the things I don’t need is you managing my emotions for me. I can handle them.”

“Obviously, you can handle anything. I can’t handle not being there to help you.”

Ema sighs. “Then help me. Make me feel better. Give me whatever magical, wifely advice that you need to give me.”

“Okay. As much as I hate you having to give up part of yourself to have a baby-.”

Ema grabs hold of Kay’s hand and brings it to her belly, and with a subtle rhythm, Kay feels someone kicking against her palm. “It’s only temporary. I’m losing this year, but in exchange, I get to be a mother for the rest of my life. We get to be moms. It won’t be the same, but-.”

“We don’t want that. We want this. This new, brilliant, incomparable future.” Kay keeps her hand on Ema, finding an all-new way to have her entire world shattered and reconstructed around their child. “I love you. Both of you.”

“I love you too.” Ema snickers and lays down on Kay, making sure her wife wraps her arms around her.

Week 22

“So, the good news-”

“Swann, have we not made our aversion to the mere concept of ‘bad news’ clear by now?”

Ema manages to keep her voice calm, at least in comparison to how she’s been talking to her friend these past few weeks. They've already finished their ultrasound appointment, and knowing their baby is happy and healthy does a lot of work to curb Ema's typical anger. Or, as Swann prefers, Ema's stupid, unscientific superstitions.

“Surprising as it may be, my linguistic repertoire does not revolve around the two of you.” Swann kicks her rolling chair away from the bed and towards her computer, where each week's imaging and biometrics are stored. “Also… I think it’s funny.”

“Shut up, waterfowl!”

Both Kay and Swann flick their eyes toward Ema at her use of that nickname. While it pulls a small chuckle from Swann, Kay's voice is playfully offended. “Hey, that’s mine.”

“Oh, like you still need it.” Ema jabs her elbow into Kay's side, but that doesn't stop Kay from helping Ema back into her regular clothes. “Don’t try to pretend that the two of you haven’t been buddy-buddy ever since you gossiped over my intestinal track.”

Kay rolls her eyes, tossing them to Swann before shaking her head. “She was on a morphine high for ten hours after surgery, and the only thing I told her that she remembers is me criticizing her lower intestines. What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Kiss me until I shut up.”

“Don’t mind-”

“Mm-hmm.” Swann clears her throat and claps her hands together, forcing the lovebirds’ focus back onto her. “As much as I want to watch the two of you make out in my office, I still have that news. Can I give it? And, also, leave before you gross me out more?”

Ema blushes and nods. “Of course. What, um-. What do you have for us this week?”

“I am… I’m…” Swann almost bites into the less-than-sterile thumb of her glove as the two intensely stare at her. “I’m confident in your baby’s sex. What do you want me to do with that information? There’s no wrong answers.”

Kay and Ema look at each other, perhaps more unsure about the correct answer to that question than anything else in their long lives. A few broken words slip from their lips as they try to form ideas, but none of them congeal as the seconds drag on into minutes.

“Well, this is awkward.” Swann wheels her chair towards the door. “Would you be more comfortable if I stepped out into the hall? Keep this decision between the two of you?”

“Yes…?”

“Uh.”

“Okay.” Swann scribbles something on a doctor's note, folds it, and then sets it in Kay's palm. “It's right there. Look, don't. Keep it, throw it away. Whatever you do, I am no longer involved. It's only for the two of you to decide. Only for you two to know.”

As Swann leaves the room, Kay sits on the bed next to Ema and holds her hand. She steadily rubs her thumb into it while Ema leans against her. Both wear apprehensive smiles, but for once, when they look at each other, the negativity in them is what builds.

“So, how about on the count of three, we both say what we want?” Kay runs her teeth across her lip as she speaks, obviously unsure of herself. Ema’s not even convinced Kay could do that herself. “At least then we know and can talk about it.”

Ema comes much closer to drawing blood with her teeth. “What if I don’t know what I want.”

“Clear your mind, count down, and then say whatever the first thing that comes to mind is. If nothing else, that gives us an answer to start from. Hopefully, an honest one…” Kay shrugs like she immediately wants to dismiss the idea, but Ema nods and tightens her grip on Kay’s hand.

“Okay. Can you?”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“I wanna know.” “I want to know.”

Kay and Ema open their eyes and smile at each other, dropping the handhold to wrap their arms around each other. Happy tears fall from their eyes, which has become a near-daily fixture in their lives. As they pull away from the hug, Kay kisses away Ema’s tears before looking down at the paper in her hands and gulping.

“Now, before we look at the sex, do you have any thoughts about their gender?”

“Um.” Ema’s mouth hangs open as she looks down at her baby bump. “I hadn’t given it much thought. I…I guess I’d prefer to raise them however they’re born, but leave that door open. Make sure they know they have options, but not push them in any direction.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was imagining. Um.” Kay’s nerves almost crumple the note. “Do you think we can actually do it? Validate them, and give them space to find themselves, and stop them from getting lost in all the male/female stereotype shit? Is it really possible?”

“I think…” Ema looks away from Kay to hide the terrified tears in her eyes. They cross past a mirror, and, as she sees every single time she looks in one, Ema sees her sister’s face.

But, this time, it’s specific. It’s the way Lana looked at her right after their parents died.

Ema sees the face of a woman who just had to become a mother. “I think that, maybe, being a parent is all about trying. Trying your hardest, every moment of every day, without ever knowing if what you're doing is for the best. And, if you try, all you’re left with is hope. Hope that you were good. And hope that the damage can be healed.”

“Well, I’ll try anything with you.” And Kay unfolds the note with a smile.

Week 29

“You drink?”

“Occasionally.”

Kay walks into the nursery with a bag swaying in her hands and pulls a beer bottle from it. She hands it over to Lana, her recently demoted third favourite Skye, and prompts her favourite to open her mouth to complain. She chucks a pine of ice cream across the nursery, which will satiate Ema’s hunger—at least for the moment.

Kay sits beside Lana on the floor, grabbing another bottle and gesturing towards the recently assembled crib against the far wall. “Thanks for coming over and helping. Couldn’t have done all that on my own.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Kay. You certainly could have.” Lana opens her bottle, takes one sip, and immediately sets it down in her lap. “Though, I suppose it’s more important that you don’t have to. It takes a village, yes?”

Kay snickers and dips her head. “Are you okay? Ema’s mouth gets weird like that when she’s nervous.”

“My sister and I are different people. Any oddities or irregularities in my meter are unrelated to my emotions, whether they match Ema’s or not.” Lana puts on a convincing smile, prompting Kay to tighten her focus.

“I was talking about how you don’t like the taste of my beer, but sure, your voice is weird, too.” Kay fakes and then falls into a genuine chuckle as she tries to get Lana where she wants her.

“I-.” Visibility, Lana bites her lip, but Kay swears she hears a snort. “This is the official beer of golf, Kay. You’re lucky I am not instructing Ema to divorce you for buying this, much less serving it.”

Kay playfully scoffs. “I don't drink it because it's the official beer of golf! Do you truly think so lowly of me?”

“No, I suppose not.” Lana takes another sip, and when she looks back at the trepidatious smile on Kay’s lips, she sighs. “I’m fine, Kay. Thought, thank you for asking.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s okay if you’re not… okay. I want you to be comfortable in our home.” Kay drops the smile to let her nerves run wild across her face.

“Truly, Kay, I’m alright.” Lana looks across the room at Ema and scoots closer to Kay. As their shoulders check, she lowers her voice. “I suppose what you’re picking up on is that I haven’t been in a… a home in some time. It’s a strange feeling after so long.”

“What do you mean?”

Lana's voice dips into the familiar, nervous cadence that Kay's seen from Ema hundreds of times. “Home is a feeling. It’s memories, people, and dreams. For me, home is Ema, and Ema has been outside my grasp for fifteen years. I made her hate me for two years, and for the other thirteen, I've been alone in a prison cell or my home. Meanwhile, Ema has made a life filled with love for herself. It’s a strange thing to wander into.”

Kay lowers her head, and her peppy octaves disappear. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize what we did to you. All of it, anyway. I’m sorry.”

“You and Ema didn’t do anything to me. Life just happened.” Though she moves like she’s scared that any sudden action will make Kay explode, Lana nervously lays an arm over her shoulders. “I can never hold that against you. Either of you.”

“You don’t need to hate us for what we did to be bad.” Kay looks up at Lana, her worried nerves entirely replaced by guilt. There’s no show to it, just her genuine feelings. “We never meant to hurt you—we never even did it on purpose—but you lost a decade with your family to me and Ema not telling you about our relationship. That’s not okay.”

“Kay, Ema and I have had this conversation dozens of times over the last year. It’s a settled matter.” With the free hand still holding the bottle, Lana gestures at the crib, the decorated walls of the nursery, and their beloved Ema. “And besides, I’m here now.”

“You are, and that's what matters, but I still want to apologize.” Kay opens the cabinet behind her and grabs an envelope. “And I want you to know that you’re family. I don’t think I’ve ever said that, but it’s true. You’re not part of Ema’s or mine, but our family. All of us together. And you will always have a place in our home and hearts because that’s where family belongs.”

Kay opens the envelope and pulls out a single photo. It looks like grey scale noise, semi-bound by a cone shape, but Kay still finds a spot to point at. A second photo comes out and is set in Lana's hands, and again, Kay points into the noise. More and more photos come out, and Kay continues to point at a specific, growing dot. A dot that all too suddenly and emotionally takes on the unmistakable shape of Lana’s niece.

A single tear splashes against Kay’s nail, and she snickers. “We’ve been too scared to start showing people our ultrasounds, but I figure if there has to be a first, the only person it could be is you.”

“Thank you, Kay.”

“Always, sis.”

Week 34

“You sure you’re okay with your sister moving in?”

Ema groans, looking up at her wife from where she floats in the bath. Kay is sitting on the tub’s edge, though she's checking the thermometer instead of looking back at Ema. “Yeah, Kay, it's fine. Lana is my sister. If anyone should be concerned, it should be you. Living with a new person is hard.”

“Lana will not be the roommate that makes me break.” Kay tosses the thermometer back into the tub, and her eyes finally find Ema’s. “But more importantly, I didn’t ask you if you were okay with her moving in until after I made the offer.”

“No, you didn’t.” Ema keeps her smiling eyes locked with Kay’s to keep her calm. “Now, remind me, when in Sis and your ‘our home is your home’ chit-chat, did you realize you had asked her to be our live-in nanny?”

Kay’s mouth hangs open for a beat, and then she chuckles. “About a week later.”

“Exactly.” Ema lifts her leg out of the bubble bath and sets it down in Kay’s lap. “If you do that again, I will be mad, but this is good. I love Lana, and I miss her, and having another pair of hands around after the baby comes will be incredible. But, if you're so set on apologizing, you can give me a foot massage.”

Kay nods and wraps her hands around Ema's foot. Her hands find a rhythm that soothes Ema's tired soles, and as Kay grounds herself, she asks another question. “So, how are you feeling this week? We’re getting close.”

“Not close enough.” Ema bites, staring at her bulging tummy poking out of the water. “I love her, but she better come on her due date. I only agreed to forty weeks of this.”

“Is it really that bad?”

Ema snorts dryly and sarcastically. “I’m heavily pregnant, so yeah. My sleep is fucked, I’m always uncomfortable, I can barely waddle around, and you have to do everything for me. The most exciting part of my day is when I pee myself. That’s the saddest thing in the world.”

Kay stops her hands and stares at Ema expectantly. Ema tries to resist entirely out of spite, but ultimately, she wants her ankles soothed more than anything else. “And… and I love it. Physically, it’s awful. Even you can’t change my mind on that. But it’s also a miracle, you know? Every single moment she’s inside of me is perfect. And when I feel her move or kicks or just have the hiccups, I break down at how happy it makes me.”

“Good.” Kay's smile dims to become more honest and open. It's not like her normal goofy grins are false, but those have a performance quality. A performance she feels no need for while watching Ema glow so brilliantly. “It makes me so happy that your dream was as good as you imagined.”

Ema lowers her foot and slides across the bath to hold Kay’s hands. “It’s our dream, Kay. And it’s not over yet. Not by… well, as long as we live as parents.”

“No, it isn’t, is it? Our dream of family will never be over.” And Kay just leans forward and kisses Ema.

Week 37

“Kay…” Whap.

“Kay.” Whap.

“Kay!” Whap!

“Oww.” Kay pulls her thrice-slapped wrist away from Ema, using her other hand to soothe the burning sting. “All I am to you is sweet and kind, and you slap me.”

Ema groans in frustration, wrapping a hand around her breast before Kay can. There’s a bottle in her other hand as she tries to express colostrum—early breast milk—for the second time. “Okay, sweetie, I know you’re just trying to help, but I can do this on my own. Can you please let me?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Kay keeps her voice stable, but when they’re cuddling back-to-front, Kay can’t hide that she deflates at Ema’s request.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m great, hokis. Why wouldn’t I be?” Kay’s voice gets quieter as she talks. When Ema turns around, however, Kay looks more unsure than she does sad.

“You’re upset, and I’d like it if you told me why.” Ema sets down the bottle to place a hand on Kay’s knee.

“But I’m not upset.” Kay is lying, but not to Ema. She doesn’t lie to Ema, but she does lie to herself. Not always even consciously. “We’re about to become moms. That’s a more powerful stimulant than anything else.”

Ema bites her lip. “Do you remember what we talked about before our first ultrasound appointment? It’s okay if you don’t. Honestly, I don’t think you do.”

Kay looks across the bed to her nightstand and the journal on it. Her memory hasn’t been all there since she was seventeen. “You… you were scared that you had a phantom pregnancy, right?”

“I was, but I didn’t just tell you that. You were so scared of what could happen to me that I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you, but you convinced me it was okay.” Ema takes Kay’s hands in hers. “You said that the most important thing to you was supporting me. Taking care of me. Loving me. Whatever I was going through, you’d be there to help me however you could. If you weren’t, then you were somehow failing me.”

Kay slowly nods. She doesn’t remember the moment, but Kay knows how she loves well enough. “Aren’t I so romantic?”

“You are.” Ema wraps her hands around Kay’s neck. “You truly are. And for eleven years, you have been the one person I knew who would always love and support me. You held me through my saddest moments. You loved me through my worst. I wouldn't even have best moments without you. You were the best wife I could ask for, and you’ll keep being the best wife and the best mother in the world. I know it.”

“Is there a ‘but’ coming at some point?” Kay begins to break under the praise.

“There is no ‘but’ to how much I love you.” Ema leans forward, her lips skimming Kay’s, but she stops before they fall into a kiss. “So, I want you to know you can never fail me. As much as I need you now—as much as the baby and I will need you soon—you don’t have to spend every moment supporting me. You can take breaks. You should take them.”

Ema picks up the bottle and lifts it to her breast. “And, when it comes to something I can do myself, I need you to let me do it. It’s good for me to be active, and it’s good for you to get a break. So, for once, can you just sit back, relax from your duty, and look pretty?”

As Kay starts to cry and nod, Ema peppers her face with kisses until she smiles at how much of an incredible wife she has always been and the mother she is to become.