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It had started with dizzy spells.
Sometimes, you would have moments where you needed to take a beat and stand very, very still. You knew from your baby books that dizziness from getting up too quickly was fairly common for pregnant women, so you didn’t think too much of it, at first.
But then your cravings began.
You wanted sweet things.
You needed sweet things.
Chocolate, ice cream, baked goods, deep fried treats, sugarcoated or candy-coated anything…almost overnight, all things sweet absolutely had to get into your mouth right away.
Yoosung, being the dutiful husband that he was, was always all-too-eager to try to sate your appetite. In the beginning, you could take care of yourself, but after a while, you appreciated your man’s help. Midnight runs were commonplace, and hurrying out to feed you during his breaks at the clinic were standard fare.
But one day, he came home and found you passed out on the couch.
After calling an ambulance immediately, he was relieved to find you breathing, if too quickly. It was like you were asleep, except he couldn’t wake you up. And, happily, he saw that nothing was wrong with your baby-bump, either.
He noticed the candy bar wrappers everywhere, which would make sense considering your crav-
…wait.
Wait. He’d read about this, somewhere.
When he was younger, Yoosung’s mother had tried to convince him to be a people doctor, instead of a veterinarian, and so, she had made him read a book about interesting medical cases, thinking that it would pique his interest.
It had not.
At the time, it had annoyed him, but in that moment, Yoosung found himself incredibly grateful that his mother had tried to change his mind.
He smelled your breath, just to make sure his hunch was right.
…Yes. There it was.
At that moment, an urgent knock came at the door. Running across the room, and was faced with two paramedics, answering his emergency call.
“My wife needs insulin,” your husband said tersely, opening the door wider and stepping aside so that your rescuers could come in, “Please hurry; she’s pregnant.”
After a couple days in the hospital, you tried to make light of your situation as the two of you went home.
“I’m diabetic while I’m pregnant? That sucks,” you mock-pouted, resting your arms on your sizeable stomach, “The baby wants sugar!”
“That might not be it,” your blonde husband replied, “Your cravings might have been the diabetes, not the baby.”
You started to joke again, then swallowed it when you saw how serious Yoosung looked. That crinkle in his forehead reminded you of when he studied for finals, years ago. It made him look adorable, but you hated what it meant.
Yoosung was worried sick.
“…sweetie,” you reached out and took one of his hands, giving it a little squeeze, “It’s not so bad. Is it?”
“It’s bad,” he insisted, gripping your hand tightly so that you couldn’t pull away, “It’s so bad that you need insulin. And you need to check your blood sugar several times a day! We have to monitor this.”
“I know that,” you sighed, recalling your nurse’s training from that very morning, “But I can handle all that! It’s not like I’ll forget; I’ve got the best reminder ever right here!”
You pulled his hand and placed it palm-down onto your belly.
“This blood sugar thing, it’s just a hiccup-”
“It’s not just some hiccup!” Yoosung yelled, violently wrenching his hand back.
For a moment, you just stared at each other; you, reproach in your eyes, and him, a little shocked and ashamed of his own behaviour. Yoosung did not lose his temper often, but when he did…
Slowly, your husband took a deep breath, then reached his hand back out to you and held it there. An unspoken question in the air. Waiting for permission. Just as slowly, you took his hand in yours and put it back on your belly. Silent forgiveness.
“Try that again?” you said gently. He nodded.
“…it’s not just a hiccup,” he said, this time in even tones, “Being diabetic while pregnant is a lot riskier.”
He stroked your bump tenderly, still not looking you in the eye.
“Your blood pressure could go too high…you could pass out again…the baby could develop unusually…” Yoosung looked up at you and put his other hand up to your face, then said very, very softly, “…you could go blind. Or our little one could be born blind.”
Understanding spread across your face, and you couldn’t help but shudder. It seemed like your husband had only just gotten his full vision back. It hadn’t been long since his final surgery. You hated the irony of this situation; it made you nauseous.
You thought a moment, then turned your head slightly and placed a little kiss in the hollow of his palm. The corner of Yoosung’s mouth quirked up; he loved hand kisses.
“You know too much,” you said gently, then when you saw his forehead crinkle return, “I’m not scolding you! Not really… The doctor said my condition was fairly common. If all that extra bad stuff you said was likely, they would have told us, right?”
Yoosung continued frowning, but he did nod his head once, if grudgingly.
“Sweetie, we’re going to be alright. If we’re careful, our baby will be fine. And I will be, too.”
“How can you know that?” Yoosung asked stubbornly, trust and love in his eyes, but still shaking his head slightly.
“Because I have you,” you smiled, squeezing the hand that was on your belly, “My Superman is going to be beside me, every step of the way. You are going to be there for me. Just like before.”
You saw a crooked smile on his lips, and a little mist in his eyes, before he leaned in and held you in a kiss. Yes. Yes, he was going to get through this with you.
Just like before.