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spine-buster · 4 years ago

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c a t c h i n g t h e l i g h t | elias pettersson

Summary: Eleven years into the future, Elias and Svea embark on their next adventure. They have tackled everything together in life thus far with the other by their side. Now, it’s time to add someone new.

Word Count: ~13k

A/N: I hope you all enjoy reading this epilogue to Elias and Svea’s story. This style of small snippet scenes was so fun to write and I hope you like it. This sort of acts as an update on Brock and Grace’s story 11 years into the future as well! Regardless, I love these two so much.

CW: difficult birth

11 years later. ___

“I’m ready,” Svea said one night when she and Elias were in the car alone, driving home from the Parkinson’s Foundation of British Columbia Gala that they’d been to every year for almost fifteen years now, hosted by Grace. They were holding hands across the centre console.

Elias knew he had to keep his eyes on the road since it was dark outside, but he made sure to look over at his wife. It was so out of the blue that he knew exactly what she meant. “You’re ready?” he asked, wanting to make sure he heard correctly.

She squeezed his hand gently as she nodded. “I’m ready.”

>< >< >< >< ><

“So you guys are trying?” Grace asked as she sipped on her iced coffee in the quaint coffee shop in Yaletown. She rocked Dukey in his stroller, now almost 18 months old and in his prime chubby glory, though he was already fast asleep and had been since the car ride in. The kid could sleep, that was for sure. It was a nice reprieve from all the sleepless nights he cost Grace and Brock at the beginning.

“Officially. Yes,” Svea nodded her head. She was already on special prenatal vitamins. Already off her birth control. Already monitoring her ovulation cycle. Already had a checkup with her doctor to make sure everything was in order. Already having sex with Elias nearly every moment of the day she could fit it in. Not that either of them complained about that point. Almost twelve years later of marriage and they were still insatiable for each other. Elias still joked they had to make up for lost time. “I’m not a fertile youngin’ like you were but I’m hoping it happens just as fast,” she commented.

Grace nodded her head. “I’m just a baby-making machine at this point, so ask me any question you want. You know nothing is off limits with me, or us.”

***

“Fill me up, Elias. Fill me up with your cum.”

Elias groaned at Svea’s words. He grabbed her hair and pulled her towards him so her back was flush against his chest, pounding into her at a different angle now as he felt close to his release too. He licked and bit at the skin of her neck before dragging his lips up to her ear. “You want my cum, pretty girl?”

“My pussy needs your hot cum, Elias. Please. Please. Fuck me deep. Fuck a baby into me.”

He snaked an arm around to her hot core and began rubbing at her clit, and after a few frenzied gasps and moans, Svea felt him explode inside of her, filling her up like she so craved and making her feel the greatest pleasure she had ever known. Her orgasm coursed throughout her whole body and made her knees weak – literally – as they slipped further and further apart. She would have almost fell back down face first onto the mattress if it wasn’t for Elias holding her up and letting her fall back onto his body instead. As they lay on their bed catching their breaths, his cock was still inside her as it softened. “Happy birthday, Elias,” she mumbled as she kissed him. This was only round two, and they were planning to go all night.

***

“Are you serious? You just went to the washroom like fifteen minutes ago,” Brock pestered Svea playfully as she stuck her tongue out at him, quickly walking into the washroom at the mall.

Elias was looking down at his phone. Pregnancy symptoms, he’d googled.

Increased urination. You might find yourself urinating more often than usual. The amount of blood in your body increases during pregnancy, causing your kidneys to process extra fluid that ends up in your bladder.

***

“Svea, you love isterband! You can’t get enough of it!” Elias protested.

“Did we get a bad batch? It smells heinous.”

“It smells delicious!” he protested. What she was saying was unbelievable to him. Usually, she had to be told to stop eating the delicious Swedish style sausage, especially when they were back in Ånge or Sundsvall having it, and especially when it was a homemade variety. But now she was making gagging noises.

“I’m gonna go to our room until it’s done,” she said as she got up from her seat at the dining table. Immediately, Stella got up and followed her. “Call me when it’s ready. Hopefully it will smell less heinous by then.”

Elias watched her and Stella walk away. He took out his phone again and opened up the internet, still on the same tab from more than a week ago at the mall with Brock and Grace.

Food aversions. When you're pregnant, you might become more sensitive to certain odors and your sense of taste might change. Like most other symptoms of pregnancy, these food preferences can be chalked up to hormonal changes.

“Sveeeeeaaaaa!” he called out.

***

Svea was holding Elias.

She let him cry. It was important to let him cry.

His face was nestled onto her stomach, and had been there for at least fifteen minutes. His arms were wrapped around her. Every so often, she’d feel him move to kiss her bare skin, and she’d be able to feel the wetness from his tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m so happy,” he mumbled. He’d been saying that since they got home from the doctor’s office, but there was something about this time, right now, that made Svea’s heart swell a thousand times its size. His tone, the softness, the tears, the position – everything was working in a way that made her so emotional. “I’m so, so happy,” he repeated.

“Me too,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair slightly.

“I’m going to be a dad,” he said. He looked her in the eye. “I’m going to be a dad and you’re going to be a mom.”

She nodded slowly.

***

“So all the fucking worked, then,” Grace winked from the sink.

“You’re so crass,” Svea giggled as Dukey screamed at her for more food. He already had a grape in each chubby hand and was eyeing the scrambled eggs on Svea’s spoon like it was a filet mignon. She brought it towards him and he opened his mouth easily to eat it. “But yes, it all worked.”

“I mean, you guys fuck all the time so I wouldn’t be surprised. You guys still fuck like you’re in your twenties.”

“You’re really comfortable saying the f-word in front of your 18 month old.”

“He doesn’t understand words yet,” Grace dismissed her quickly, causing Svea to snort.

“And who are you to call me out? Clearly you and Brock still fuck like you’re in your twenties too,” Svea whispered the word fuck, referring to Grace and Brock’s giant brood.

“Are you guys going to find out what you’re having?” Grace asked.

Svea shook her head. “We both want it to be a surprise.”

“It’s more fun that way,” Grace agreed. “I’m betting on a boy.”

***

“Can you see it?” Svea asked as she looked at herself in the mirror, her body in a fitted dress. She switched to a side profile to see if she could see her bump better. It was small, and barely noticeable, but it was there.

“I can,” Elias nodded, coming up behind her.

“Do you think other people will see it?” she asked. “I want to show it off.”

Elias smiled. “Show it off?” he asked.

Svea nodded. “Grace said she think I’m going to be all belly – you know, like one of those women who just grows out instead of, like, around. I waited so long to have one. Now that I do, I want everyone to know.”

Elias’s smile overtook his face.

***

“Look at you!” Grace winked as Svea approached her, her bump styled in a tight dress that showed off the small but noticeable curve forming. “Work it, Svea!” Svea danced a little bit, boogieing from side to side as Grace began to do the same. Elias and Brock rolled their eyes at each other but smiled, too, their wives completely ignoring them at this point. “I was right, too! You’re all bump!” Grace exclaimed.

“For now,” Svea smiled. “I feel wider.”

“You don’t look it, but it doesn’t matter. Get as wide and as big as you want, woman. You’re pregnant with a baby.”

“And ask Petey to go and get you cans of tuna in olive oil at 2:30 in the morning,” Brock quipped. Grace shot him a look. “Five times,” he added for dramatic effect.

***

“You want some, Elias?” Svea asked as she stuffed a spoonful of strawberry flavoured frozen yogurt into her mouth.

“I��m okay,” he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You have what you want.”

“You sure?”

Elias nodded. He looked over at the clock – 3:00 in the morning. He had a practice tomorrow and she had work. But she had to have some strawberry frozen yogurt. She just had to. She needed it. Which is why Elias put on his winter jacket and a pair of shoes – but kept his pajama pants on – at 2:30 in the morning and made his way to their local 24-hour supermarket, buying her favourite frozen yogurt so she could eat it. It was all worth it, now that she was digging into it – sitting cross-legged on the bed, belly showing through her pajama shirt, eyes rolling to the back of her head every time she ate a spoonful. Now he realized what Brock meant. “It’s okay, pretty girl.”

“Just one spoon,” she said, already scooping it. She held it out to him and he smiled before he ate the spoonful. “Is it good?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s better at three in the morning.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. She had the best husband. She wasn’t sure if others would have gone and gotten her frozen yogurt in the middle of the night. “I love you, Elias.”

“I love you too. Now give me another spoonful.”

***

“I love your cock so much Elias, fuck,” Svea sighed out.

He was much gentler these days. They both were. The doctor said it was completely safe and healthy but Elias was still…cautious. But when Svea woke up that morning placing small kisses on his shoulder, and then reached over and slipped her hand down his pajama pants, he couldn’t help himself. So he flipped around to face her, and they kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and he teased her already wet pussy with his fingers, and he hooked her leg over his torso and slipped into her easily, the both of them sighing, the both of them savouring the intimacy.

“Does it feel good?” he asked. She nodded quietly. “Does it feel different?”

“A little bit,” she nodded again, biting her bottom lip. “But a good different.”

Elias thrust harder. Svea let out a gasp. “I could bury my cock in your pussy all day,” he huffed out.

That made Svea smirk. “I’d let you.”

***

“You have to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.”

“Well, you have to be.”

“You’ve been feeling them for a week now! I haven’t!”

“Just. Be. Patient.”

“But Svea—”

“Elias—”

They both stopped the second they felt it. It happened right where Elias’s hand rested on her growing belly. He almost couldn’t believe it happened at first, because to him, the feeling was so new. But when he realized what had just happened, and the magnitude of it, he looked up at Svea. She was already smiling. “Did you feel that?” he asked.

She nodded. “Poke where they just kicked. Trust me.”

Elias did as he was told. He poked. And poked again. Then he placed his hand on the spot.

He felt another kick.

Svea could hear a sharp intake of breath. When she looked at him next, he was already looking at her with tears welled in his eyes. “Svea…” he managed to get out, his voice cracking.

“I know, Elias. I know.”

A tear fell down his face.

***

“Svea, can I touch your belly?” Violet Boeser looked up at Svea, swaying her dress from side to side.

“Me too!” Rose Boeser joined in.

“Me three!” Lily Boeser pushed her sister to the side.

“Me four!” Poppy Boeser squeezed her way in. “Svea can I feel the baby?”

“Be gentle!” Grace called out from the picnic table. In the distance, Brock and Elias were barbecuing the hamburgers and hot dogs. Coolie, Milo, and Stella were all sunbathing near the barbecue. “Svea isn’t a science experiment!”

Svea snorted. “Yes girls, you can all feel the baby,” she smiled. Immediately, each of the girls’ hands covered her bump. Rose even put her head against her bump briefly. “The baby isn’t kicking right now but they might soon now that they feel all your hands,” Svea said.

“Are you having a boy or a girl?” Violet asked.

“I don’t know yet, Violet! It’s going to be a surprise.”

“Baaaaaaaa!” Dukey Boeser yelled from the picnic table. Once Grace set him down, he ran over to Svea as well, not wanting to feel left out now that his four older sisters were doing something he wasn’t. He put his tiny hands on top of Poppy’s and looked up at Svea. “Baaaaaa! Ba ba baby!”

“Yes! There’s a baby!” Svea grinned.

“And I’m gonna babysit!” Violet said.

“Me too!” Rose followed.

“Me three!” Lily joined.

“Me four!” Poppy finished it out, like she always did.

***

“Your placenta is a bit low, but it’s nothing to worry about,” the doctor said as she looked at Svea. “Have you been feeling any changes lately?”

“A lot more fatigue, to be honest,” Svea confessed. “I push through it because I’m still working, but when I get home I, like, barely move.”

The doctor nodded his head. “That’s normal. Fatigue in the second trimester is common. We’ll continue to monitor symptoms and monitor your placenta but it shouldn’t be a problem. But if symptoms get any worse, we’ll put you on bedrest.”

“Bedrest?”

“Bedrest. For your health. And the health of the baby.”

***

“Should we start thinking about names?” Svea asked as she lay on the couch, her head in Elias’s lap as he ran his fingers through her hair. Stella was sleeping in between her legs, letting out soft snores. “Do we want super-Swedish or super…something else?”

“This is going to be the hardest part, I think,” Elias commented before offering any suggestions. “I think something that translates well into both languages is best, don’t you think?”

Svea nodded her head. Whereas Fanny and Emil chose pretty traditional Swedish sounding names for their three boys, she knew they’d have to go the “translatable” route because of their Canadian/Swedish lifestyle. “Do you like Linnea?” she asked.

“I do, but I think it’s too popular in Sweden. I want something nice but something that stands out. There will be five other Linnea’s in her class,” Elias mused.

“So that’s Milo down the drain too, then…” Svea giggled slightly. “What about Freya?”

“Too…mythological.”

“Ivar?”

“No.”

“What about Astrid? I was going to be named Astrid, you know.”

Elias nodded. “I like Astrid. Astrid is good. Do you like Oskar?”

Svea nodded. “What about Erland, like your grandpa?”

“That’s a good middle name.”

***

Babysitting Violet, Rose, Lily, Poppy, and Dukey was good practice for Elias and Svea. They’d been doing it, really, since Violet was born, and then when Rose was added, and Lily was added, and Poppy was added, and Dukey was added…well, it all just became routine. The girls were great, and they put frilly headbands on Elias and did his makeup more times than they could count now. His favourite look was the blue and green eyeshadow they’d created, stolen from mommy’s collection in her room. The Canucks colours, obviously. He’d even posted the finished product on Instagram.

The girls also never had any trouble with bedtime, even when they were much smaller. But nowadays, Dukey did. Entering his “terrible twos” was proving to be quite the interesting time. But with the girls already in bed, it was easy for Elias and Svea to deal with him separately.

After tiring him out, Elias tried rocking him to get him to fall asleep, but he was still fussy. He kept reaching out to Svea. So Elias transferred him over, and Svea held him in her arms. “Whatsa matter?” she asked him in a sweet voice. “Does Dukey want to fall asleep?”

He fussed around for a bit more before settling down, laying his head on Svea’s shoulder. He was looking down, his face in a pout. “Baby,” he said, pointing lazily down to her bump. “Baby.”

“Yes, there’s a baby,” Svea cooed, rubbing his back. His eyes almost immediately began to droop. “But Dukey is a big boy now.”

“Yaaaaa. Dukey big boy.”

Elias watched as she continued to rub his back and coo sweet words to him as Dukey fell asleep in her arms. His hands were almost shaking, thinking about how in a few short months, they’d be doing the same thing for their own child.

***

Midsommar. Svea’s favourite time of year.

And now time for an impromptu baby shower.

Elias’s family tradition of renting a big tent on the lake was still going strong, and now, with so many new cousins and family members, the party was bigger and better than ever. Svea’s family and Elias’s family decided to incorporate a small celebration for the impending baby.

With her flower crown adorned on her head and some special gifts already opened, Elias sat down beside his wife and held her hand underneath the table. “Remember when we were young? What you did to me on the banks of the lake?”

She side eyed him. “Don’t even think about it.”

***

“Give me your hands, Svea, fuck,” Elias moaned as he watched her rock back and forth on top of him. She did as she was told, grabbing his hands to brace against so she could keep doing what she was doing. As she rocked herself back and forth, getting closer and closer to her climax, she tightened her grip on his hands. “Does it feel good, pretty girl?”

Svea nodded. “D’you still like what you see?”

“Always Svea. Always.”

***

Grace had gone all out. She was the perfect person to host Svea’s Vancouver baby shower when she returned from Sweden almost double the size from when she left. She’d invited the Canucks wives and girlfriends to her house. She’d had her sunroom and backyard decorated in the most adorable Peter Rabbit themed décor. Stella was dressed up with rabbit ears. She’d even thought of the cutest, most perfect party favours – mini champagne bottles with “She’s About to Pop!” adorned on it. And not the cheap champagne bottles, either. This was Grace.

Too bad Svea couldn’t have any.

Svea usually didn’t like being the centre of attention, but she was having the best time being the centre of attention at her baby shower. She opened her gifts, she played the games, she laughed her head off at the game where the girls had to measure her girth.

After pictures with the guests, Svea sat down in her chair. “This was the cutest baby shower,” Holly Horvat commented to her, nibbling on the last bit of her cupcake. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“Remember that movie Bridesmaids? Remember how they had puppies as the party favours?”

Svea giggled. “Yeah.”

“Grace should have gotten us all cute little bunnies.”

***

“So the rumours are true. You’re pregnant.”

Svea looked up from her phone to see Trevor waiting down the bar for his coffee, staring right at her as she finished telling the barista her order. From behind her, one of her co-workers muttered an ‘Ew’ at the sight of him. With good reason, since Trevor was Svea’s political arch-enemy. They came up in the political world at the same time, got promotions around the same time, and were forced to work in conjunction with one another – but never actually together. And they never got along, ever.

“Yes. I am,” Svea nodded her head once. “Fancy seeing you here, by the way. Isn’t your office on the other side of town?”

“We travel all over the city,” he said. His smarmy smile made her blood boil. He grabbed his coffee and made his way towards her. “Congratulations, by the way. I wish Elias a lot of luck. He’s going to need it.”

“Just like you after we decimated you in the election, I assume.”

His smarmy smile left his face.

***

The Boeser girls got so excited by the flashing lights in the arena, the season opener in full swing. They were clapping and screaming and jumping around on their jerseys as the announcer began to announce the team, knowing that their dad would be near the beginning because of his number six.

“At number six, Brrrrrroooock, Booooeeeseeerrr!” the announcer roared, the crowd roaring as well as the girls screamed at the top of their lungs for their dad. Dukey was clapping too, balanced on Grace’s hip and in his own little jersey. Svea couldn’t help but smile.

Eventually, when they got to Elias, she knew the camera would pan to her. A member of the press corps had seen her earlier. And while she and Elias never made a formal announcement on Instagram or anywhere else in terms of her pregnancy, it was now out in the open – especially since that reporter asked about it during the media scrum earlier that day. “Your wife Svea is pregnant now; is the focus at the beginning of this season for you on hockey or on the things happening at home?”

The audacity of that question being asked made her head spin.

Lily had already wrapped her arms around Svea’s legs, and like clockwork, they were shown on the jumbotron clapping. At that point, the 20,000-plus fans in the arena could see she was seven months pregnant. The bump protruded through the jersey. And when the fans realized, they got noticeably louder. Like, louder louder. Cheering, whistling, smiling – so much so it sent shivers down Svea’s spine.

She smiled from ear to ear.

***

“Happy birthday, my beautiful wife,” Elias mumbled against Svea’s lips. He’d been kissing her, slow and sensual, but also quick and fast – every type of kiss, really – for the last fifteen minutes. He’d just made her a homemade dinner, and now he was ready for, uh, dessert.

“This time next year I’ll be a mom to a ten-month-old,” she mused.

Elias smiled. “It feels like just yesterday that we surprised Grace and Brock,” he said.

“It’s been twelve years.”

“Still feels like yesterday,” Elias kissed her again. “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

***

“I think it’s cutting it too close,” Elias mused as they lay in bed together, Svea’s bump widening the distance between them.

“Elias, I’m only thirty-six weeks,” Svea rationalized. “My mom carried Sigrid to almost 42 weeks and me right to 40. This baby isn’t coming out anytime soon.”

“But you’ve…grown so much in the last few weeks,” he said, laying a hand on the bump. “And you’ve been so tired, and the doctor’s appointments have to be weekly because of that and I just don’t—”

“Elias—”

“It’s fifteen days, Svea. I’ll just let them know it’s too close.”

“Elias,” Svea said sternly. “You’re going to the East Coast and that’s that. You’re going to get back and we’re going to celebrate your birthday and then we’re going to have this baby. In that order.”

***

If you looked, if you really looked at the video, you could see Elias being called off the bench at the beginning of the third period.

The announcers mentioned it after the fact. And when play stopped about two minutes later, they were able to show the replay. They went through some major points of his shift, spoke about how good it was, and then showed how he skated back to the bench and sat down. About fifteen seconds later, someone came barreling through the tunnel and was screaming Elias’s name, waving him over to get off the bench. Elias complied. The analysts wondered – there was no hit, no scuffle, no trip, no high stick, no fall, seemingly no injury, no penalty at all or anything even worth a penalty during the play, and a perfectly healthy Elias Pettersson was being rushed off the bench? What was going on?

The camera stayed on Elias speaking to the man in the tunnel. Nobody could lip read but everybody could see Elias run down the tunnel once the man spoke.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“You need to get back to Vancouver. It’s Svea. She’s been rushed to the hospital and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

He was a six hour flight away in Florida.

***

There was blood everywhere. All over their bed. All over their sheets.

Svea called an ambulance. She called Grace screaming and wailing into the phone. She called her mom in Sweden crying. The pain was almost too much. The contractions were too. When the paramedics came, she was loaded into an ambulance and rushed to the hospital. “My husband. You need to call my husband. He’s in Florida playing hockey. He needs to be here. He—He—the baby—the baby—the baby—”

***

It was the worst six hours of Elias’s life. Eight hours really, from leaving the rink to getting off the plane and rushing to the hospital. Grace called in the last minutes before the flight took off to update him. Svea had placenta previa. That’s why there was so much spontaneous blood loss. The doctors had stopped the bleeding, but she’d needed a blood transfusion. It went fine. But now she was in labour. At 37 weeks.

“It’ll have to be a c-section,” Grace explained. “There was too much blood loss and too big a risk for more blood loss for a vaginal birth like Svea wanted. And I don’t – Petey – she will probably need a hysterectomy.”

“Hysta-what? What’s that?”

“They’re going to have to remove her uterus, Petey. This baby is going to be your only baby.”

***

Elias rushed to put on the scrubs provided by the nurses. He rushed to get back into the delivery room knowing that Svea had already had a blood transfusion. He rushed to be in the room to watch the doctor operate – literally operate on his wife – so that Svea could deliver the baby safely and have her hysterectomy.

***

Margot Pettersson.

They named her Margot Pettersson.

After all the blood, the fear, the frantic phone calls, the six-hour flight, the surgery, the operation – Margot was here. And she was healthy.

It took everything within Elias not to break down crying as he held her in his arms and lay in the hospital bed with Svea, who was recovering well considering the trauma and how much blood she lost. They couldn’t take their eyes off their daughter. She was perfect in every way, from the blonde hair on her head to her tiny, tiny, tiny little toes.

She was finally here.

***

It was a few days later when Svea felt confident enough to be in a photo – she didn’t “look like death” anymore, as she put it. Elias sent it to his teammates. He was on some brief phone calls with the powers that be on the Canucks for a statement and for some time off.

When he rejoined Svea in their hospital room as she fed Margot, he sat on the bed and wrapped an arm around his girls. “The bed,” she said suddenly, looking at him. “We have to buy a new bed. I can’t sleep in that bed anymore. All I’ll see is blood.”

“Grace and Brock already took care of it,” he said. “Everything is going to be fine when we get back home. I promise.”

***

The Vancouver Canucks organization would like to extend their congratulations to Elias and Svea Pettersson on the birth of their daughter, Margot. Mrs. Pettersson continues to recover in the hospital. Elias will be a healthy scratch for the next four games to ensure the health and well-being of his family.

***

Svea was on bed rest in their new bed, Stella’s snout resting on her post-partum belly. Elias never wanted to let go of Margot unless it was to put her back in Svea’s arms. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, either. Even when Svea was breastfeeding. He found it to be the most beautiful thing in the world, watching his wife, who he loved so much, feeding and nourishing his daughter, who he loved so much.

He cuddled with them, snuggling into Svea’s side as he watched Margot. The little sounds she was making brought a smile to his face. He brought his hand up and caressed her head gently, the blonde hair atop her head perfectly combed.

“I finally have boobs now,” Svea whispered.

Elias snorted and Svea had a cheeky smile on his face. “I’ve always loved your boobs. Big or small.”

“Hmm, don’t I know it,” she hummed, giving him another kiss. She looked down at her daughter. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“In every way.”

***

Elias’s birthday was much quieter this year. Well, quieter in the sense that there weren’t any friends in his house; quieter in the sense that he wasn’t at some hip restaurant downtown eating an incredibly expensive steak while sipping on an incredibly expensive glass of wine while he wore an incredibly expensive outfit and an incredibly expensive watch, watching his beautiful and sexy wife in an incredibly expensive dress sip sultrily on an incredibly expensive glass of wine as she eyed him up and grazed his leg with her heel under the table.

But this was still his favourite birthday ever.

Sitting on the couch, a warm bottle of pumped breastmilk in his hands, feeding his eight-day-old daughter.

His life was perfect.

***

“She looks like Petey,” Brock said as he held a swaddled Margot in his arms.

“They have to biologically, you know,” Grace jumped in. “But my god you two, her eyes are so damn blue. I mean I know that’s the Swedish thing and all, but they’re sooo blue.”

“I know,” Elias smiled. “Even the doctor mentioned it during one of her checkups. She’ll have a beautiful set of eyes, that’s for sure. Just like her mom.”

Svea swooned. She watched as Brock craned his neck down and placed a quick kiss atop Margot’s head. “Getting baby fever again, Brock?” she winked at him.

“No no no, five is plenty,” he chuckled. “I just love that newborn baby smell.”

Svea, Elias, and Grace let out the all-knowing “Oooooh” sound in agreement. “You’re so right, babe,” Grace nodded. “It’s the best smell in the world.”

***

“God, I missed this,” Svea said as she took a huge gulp of crisp, clean Vancouver air. It was her first time outside with Stella in weeks, now that she was off bedrest and fully recovered from her c-section and hysterectomy. Her doctor had okayed light physical activity, so she’d invited Grace and Dukey over for a short walk around the neighbourhood. Grace had obviously agreed, and had brought Coolie and Milo along.

“Me too. You’ll be back running and doing yoga in no time,” Grace said, remembering some of their jaunts over the years where Grace would bring out Violet, or Rose, or Lily, or Poppy on walks or runs in their strollers too. When she finished strapping Duke in, and made sure he had his snacks, she rose to her feet. “You feel good?”

Svea nodded. “We just have to go slow. And I can do maximum half an hour.”

“I’ll go as slow as you want me to,” Grace said. She peeked into Margot’s stroller and noticed she was already asleep. Her son, on the other hand, was screaming about his grapes. “Let’s hope Dukey’s grapes last the entire time.”

***

Did Elias and Svea go all out for Margot’s first Christmas? Yes.

Did Svea dress her up in a red dress, green shoes, frilly headband, and reindeer antlers? Yes.

Did Svea dress her up in an elf outfit, complete with curled shoes? Yes.

Was there a portrait with the new family and Santa Claus? Yes.

Did Elias and Svea send the pictures to their family members, co-workers, and every teammate? Yes.

Did it get leaked to the media? Yes.

***

“She’s gonna start her chubby phase soon,” Brock said as he held Margot in his arms, feeding her with a bottle, as Elias sautéed some mushrooms on a skillet as part of their lunch. “She’s eighteen weeks now?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the best,” Brock said. “They got so chunky. So squishy. I swear I went crazy for every one of them.”

“Margot was born at 37 weeks though. We might have to wait a little bit longer.”

“Well, call me the second you start noticing chunk,” Brock said. “I’ll be over here in a heartbeat.”

***

“There was a lot of blood.”

Elias held Svea in his arms as they lay down in bed together after one of Margot’s middle-of-the-night feedings. Margot had been really fussy and took a while to be put down and fall asleep again; Svea had been unable to go back to sleep herself once she was in bed, tossing and turning and not even being able to keep her eyes closed. Even Elias’s cuddling wasn’t helping, which meant something was on her mind and keeping her restless. So he’d asked her what was wrong.

And that’s what she responded with.

He knew immediately what she meant. Ever since that day, when he was called off the bench and rushed back to Vancouver, he’d beaten himself up for not being there, as a husband should have been for his wife, as she went through such a traumatic event. It traumatized him, but that didn’t even take into consideration how much it traumatized her. That’s what really mattered here. She still had to deal with it. She still had to see it in her mind when she closed her eyes. She had the memory, not him.

It killed Elias inside knowing Svea had to carry that burden with her.

“You were so strong, though. And your strength gave us our daughter,” he said.

Svea nodded slightly before she looked at her husband. “Were you scared? When they told you, I mean. When you were rushed off the bench.”

Elias nodded his head immediately. “I was terrified.”

“Of what?”

“That I was going to lose you and the baby,” he admitted. “Were you scared?”

“I was,” Svea said. “Do you…are…are you angry we can only have one?”

“Why would I be angry?” he was beside himself at her question.

“I don’t know. I just…are you angry we didn’t have a boy? Or that we can’t have a son in the future? Or another daughter? Are you angry I wasn’t healthy enough to—”

“Stop it right now,” he ordered. Tears were falling down his face at her words. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted and needed in my life. Do you understand me? Everything.”

Svea was crying now too. “You’ve just been so good to me, Elias. I want to give you everything too, like you always give me.”

“You already have,” he whispered, kissing her, feeling her tear-stained cheeks on his.

***

“You want to hold the baby, Violet?” Svea asked quietly as the Boeser girls looked at tiny Margot resting in Svea’s arms. Violet nodded her head desperately and outstretched her hands automatically. “You have to sit on the couch, baby girl,” Svea said, and Violet did as she was told.

Svea extended her arms and passed Margot to her slowly. “Put your arm up,” she said. “You have to support her head.” Violet nodded. Margot fussed a little bit, but once she was in Violet’s arms, she stopped.

Violet smiled. “Hello Margot,” she said in a soft voice, smiling.

“Hello Margot,” Rose mimicked in the same voice.

“Hello Margot,” Lily mimicked in the same voice.

“Hello Margot,” Poppy mimicked in the same voice.

All at the same time, the girls leaned forward and placed light kisses onto Margot’s face.

Svea couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

***

“Look at my beautiful baby girl,” Elias cooed as he finished changing Margot’s diaper, buttoning up her little onesie as she wiggled on the change table, looking up at him with her big blue eyes. “Hällo Margot! Hällo!”

She gurgled happily. Elias chuckled as he finished the last of the buttons, eventually scooping her up in his arms carefully and holding her against his chest. She settled in quickly, calming herself down as Elias walked from her nursery to his bedroom. Just as he walked in, Svea walked out of their ensuite bathroom with a robe on, drying her hair with a towel. When she saw her husband and daughter, she smiled automatically.

“Hello my loves,” she whispered, approaching them slowly. At the sight of Svea, Margot gurgled happily again, even waving her arms up and down once excitedly. “Hello Margot! Hello my beautiful baby!”

“Beautiful baby had a stinky diaper this morning,” Elias griped jokingly.

Svea laughed, placing a light kiss on top of Svea’s head. “Making daddy change the stinky ones? Good baby.”

***

Margot’s first game, after she got all of her appropriate vaccinations, was against the Toronto Maple Leafs. Elias and Svea made sure to go to the arena early so that his teammates could see her before the game. Even Elias’s friend William Nylander from the Leafs was able to pop over and congratulate the couple. Svea appreciated the gesture, since she knew how busy he was.

“Oh my Gooooooddddd,” Holly cooed as she saw Margot dressed up in a little Vancouver Canucks jersey. “The baby jersey! The baby jersey! Can Gunnar be this small again?!”

Svea laughed as Holly clutched at her heart. Bo smiled from ear to ear when he noticed, too. “She’s adorable, Svea.”

“Thanks, Bo.”

“Bo, remember when Gunnar was that small?” Holly asked her husband. She then wrapped her arms around his one arm, looking up at him sweetly. “Can we have another one, Bo? Please?”

“Holly.”

***

Svea hauled some of the grocery bags – the lighter ones, at least – inside the house. She would leave the other ones for Elias. He’d probably get angry that she brought in the light groceries, anyway. He always brought things in – ever since her surgery, at least. But she was feeling almost back to normal now, and she wanted to start contributing more again.

“Elias?” she called out. No answer. She set the grocery bags down in the laundry room and made her way into their house. “Elias?” she called out again.

It was only then when he heard loud, screaming giggles coming from the family room. Following the giggles, Svea heard the sound of raspberries being blown against skin, and an orchestra of loud, happy giggles again, this time from both Margot and Elias.

She smiled to herself. As she walked further into the house, turning a corner, she looked into the family room to find Elias on his knees in front of the couch, Margot on the cushion in between his arms in just a diaper, and him blowing raspberries on her tummy. Margot was laughing and wiggling in pure happiness. And when Svea’s presence caught Elias’s eye, he looked up. “Hey baby,” he smiled, before diving in one more time to blow raspberries.

Svea’s heart swelled.

***

“You and Elias deserve a nice Valentine’s Day date,” Grace said before taking a sip of her water. “How about Brock and I watch Margot for the night and you two go out for a nice dinner?”

Svea loved the idea, but she was still a bit apprehensive. It would be the first night away from Margot. And though she trusted Brock and Grace more than anyone else in Vancouver with Margot, it would still be a lot for her, at least mentally. She assumed it would be the same for Elias. “I’ll mention it to Elias, and we’ll think about it,” she said.

Grace eyed her. “Don’t think about it, just do it. I know it’s hard to think about, but time away from the baby will do you both some good. It’s necessary. It’s healthy. It’s hard but it’s healthy.”

***

“This steak is delectable,” Svea commented as she forked another slice of her filet into her mouth.

Elias nodded from across the table. “The wine, too. It was a good choice,” he said before he took a sip. He looked lovingly at his wife and smiled before he set his wine glass down. “D’you miss Margot like I do?”

Svea giggled and nodded her head. “I do. But I’m enjoying our Valentine’s Day date,” she said. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.”

“Me neither,” he reached across the table to grab her hand.

***

Elias and Stella walked into the bedroom quietly, Elias holding mugs of tea in both hands. He saw Svea sitting up, looking down peacefully at Margot whom she was breastfeeding. Svea grabbed the mug from Elias and took a quick sip before setting it down on the nightstand. Elias climbed into the bed, Stella following, and nestled in close with his two girls, gently stroking Margot’s blonde hair.

“Thank you for the tea,” Svea said softly, looking at him before pursing her lips slightly, signaling she wanted a kiss.

Elias gave her one easily. His lips lingered on hers, giving her small, quick kisses. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted,” he whispered huskily. “The least I could do is bring you tea.”

“Hmmm,” Svea hummed happily. “Can I suggest some other things you can do tonight?”

Elias smirked.

***

“Look here little Margot! Look here!” the photographer cooed as her assistant jingled some bells to get the attention of the baby, dressed up in the cutest little dress and tights. Margot babbled slightly and smiled at the noise. Elias could hear the shutter of the camera go off like crazy.

“Her eyes are showing up spectacularly on camera,” the photographer commented. “What a beautiful colour they are.”

Elias and Svea continued to smile throughout the photoshoot. Then, when they had to take a break, they changed Margot into a different outfit and went outside to take some more pictures. After a second break, they changed Margot into her last outfit before going to their bedroom and finishing the photoshoot.

“The photos should be ready for you in a few weeks, after editing,” the photographer said as she packed away her equipment. By this point, Margot was fast asleep on Elias’s shoulder, her chubby cheeks amplified. “She’s a cutie, you guys. I mean, just adorable.”

Elias smiled, placing a soft kiss atop Margot’s head. “She’s my little princess.”

***

At a cute little café in Yaletown, Svea pushed her stroller back and forth to rock Margot to sleep. Svea hadn’t gotten any sleep last night thanks to her daughter, and Elias being away on a road trip didn’t help matters. Svea knew babies went through sleep regression – Margot had been a fantastic sleeper, save for the last two weeks – but she wondered how long this would last. She was trying everything she could, but Margot wasn’t sleeping.

When Grace arrived without any of her kids in tow, looking especially stylish with a cute hat and thigh-high boots, Svea waved her down. Grace waved back and waited in line to order her coffee.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Grace commented as she set her coffee down on the table and sat in the seat opposite Svea.

“That’s because I haven’t,” Svea admitted. She hadn’t even bothered to put on makeup this morning. “Margot kept me up all night. She was so fussy, Grace.”

Grace furrowed her brows. “Do you have milk with you?” she asked.

Svea nodded. “Of course I do. In the bag.”

Grace nodded, getting up from her seat. “Come on. We’re going home.”

“Wait—what—”

“We’re going back to my house, and you’re sleeping, and I’ll watch and feed Margot.”

Svea could cry.

***

“Look. At. The. CHUNK!!!!!” Brock practically screamed as he looked over Elias’s shoulder as Elias finished putting a new diaper on Margot, who was wiggling happily and cooing at seeing Brock’s face over her dad’s shoulder. “Look at you! Look at your chunk! Look at it!” Brock kept repeating.

“Brock—”

“What’re you gonna do with all these rolls? What’re you gonna do with all these rolls?!”

“Brock—”

“You gonna open a bakery? You gonna open up a bakery with all these rolls?”

“BROCK!”

“WHAT?!”

“Get me her blanket!”

Brock moved to the side and reached over to get the soft blanket he knew Elias wanted. “You don’t have to be so mean,” he grumbled at his best friend.

***

“Look, Svea! Look! Look!” Elias’s voice was frantic as he called Svea over from the kitchen. He could hear her footsteps as she rushed over to the family room. “Look!”

Svea looked at Elias on his stomach on the floor, a few feet away from Margot who was also on her tummy. She’d hit the traditional milestone of rolling over a bit early – four months in, instead of five – and now, at just over six months old, Svea watched as Margot started creeping along the floor, moving closer and closer to her dad as he kept wiggling further and further away.

“Eeeeeeh!” she would cry out in complaint of her seemingly not getting closer to her dad. “Eeeeeh!”

“Come on Margot! Just a little bit more!” Elias smiled wide.

She creeped some more, and when she was finally close enough, Elias began peppering her face with kisses. She giggled at the feeling and screeched with happiness when he picked her up and held her in his arms. “Baby’s on the move,” he smiled at Svea.

She nodded her head. “We’re not gonna be able to sit down anymore.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” Svea asked playfully as she watched Margot crawl along the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Her chunky rolls filled out her avocado-printed onesie she was wearing as she made a beeline for the sunlight coming through the sliding door.

“Aaaaaeeeeeeee!” Margot squeaked at the sound of her mother’s voice, looking back.

“Where are you going?” Svea asked.

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa!”

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa!” Svea mimicked, knowing she should be mimicking the sounds for Margot’s development. She grabbed her phone off the counter and walked around her, crouching down on the floor and opening her camera for a video. “Come on Margot! Let’s show daddy how you can crawl!”

“Aaaaaaaadadada!!” she said, continuing her babbling and crawling as she made her way against the hardwood floor and towards the camera.

Later, when Svea held Margot on hip as she fixed a quick bowl of raspberries as a snack, she sent the video to Elias. His response was almost immediate.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

***

“She’s cruising now,” Svea explained on the phone to Grace. “Like, she can stand, but the second she takes a step she’s too wobbly and falls down. But if she’s got the couch or the coffee table, she’s okay.”

“She’s going to be walking soon,” Grace said confidently. “You guys think you weren’t able to sit down once she started crawling? Well, good luck now,” she giggled.

“I don’t know how you did this three times in a row while pregnant with the next,” Svea admitted. “Crouching down, picking her up, over and over and over again…all that with a bump? You’re superwoman, Grace.”

“I’m not superwoman, I’m just a mom,” Grace said. “For going what you went through to deliver her, you’re superwoman too, you know.”

***

“Come to daddy, Margot. Come to daddy,” Elias beckoned as he sat with his arms and legs outstretched about six feet away from Svea, who was holding Margot up by just her hands. All of the videos Svea had sent him over the last road trip of Margot trying to walk and then falling made him want to practice once he got home. He refused to see his daughter’s first steps over an iPhone video, and Svea understood that completely.

“Go to daddy,” Svea whispered in her daughter’s ear as she let go of her hands.

Margot wobbled a bit, took a cautionary first step, then a second, and at her parent’s excited voices, she smiled and continued with her steps, reaching Elias who was so elated with joy that he scooped her up in his arms and peppered her chubby face with kisses. Svea could see tears escaping his eyes as he repositioned his daughter, holding her up again by her hands, and encouraging her to walk to Svea. Some more wobbly steps and a mid-distance squat later, Margot was back in Svea’s arms, getting more kisses.

They had a walker.

***

“Your costumes are sooooo awesome, girls!” Svea cooed as she looked at Violet, Lily, Rose, and Poppy dressed up in their witch costumes as she entered the Boeser house. “Are you girls ready to go trick-or-treating?”

The four girls nodded their heads excitedly. “What’s Margot dressed up as?!” Violet asked.

“You’ll see when Elias brings her in,” Svea smiled, watching as Dukey, dressed up as Buzz Lightyear came running towards the door. “Hi Dukey!”

“I Buzz Lightyear!” he screamed excitedly. “Look!” he turned around to show off the wings of the costume. He raised his hand in the air. “Iffity and blonde!”

“To infinity and beyond!” Svea copied him.

Before they could go any further, Elias walked through the door with Margot in his arms and her diaper bag over his shoulder. “Hello girls,” Elias greeted them. “Nice costumes! Look at Svea’s!”

The four girls cooed at her, admiring her in her cute little costume. “Mooooooom! Svea’s a strawberry!”

From inside the house, Elias and Svea could hear Grace scream in delight.

***

“Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you! Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you! Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy dear Maaaaarrrgggooooottt! Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you!”

Margot was smiling from ear to ear as she giggled and clapped excitedly as everyone sang to her. Her first birthday party was a hit – Irene and Torbjorn were able to come in from Sweden, Emil and Fanny were Zooming in with their kids, and practically the entire team and their kids were over the Pettersson house celebrating the big day.

“Blow, Margot! Blow!” Elias bent down so he was at the same eye-level as his daughter in her high chair. He showed her how to do it before watching as she tried to mimic him. “Blow!”

Instead, Margot made a loud fart noise with her mouth.

Everyone laughed hysterically. Elias could hear Brock scream “I hope someone got that on video!” Elias watched as Svea bent down to be at eye-level with Margot too. “On three! One, two three! Blow!”

***

“Say mama. Mama,” Elias said as he lay on his back on the couch and hat Margot sitting on his chest. “Mama. Mommy.”

“Dada.”

“No, no dada. Mmmmmmmaaaammmmmmaaaaa,” he emphasized. “Mama!”

“Dada!”

“MAMA!”

“DADA!”

“Elias!” Svea yelled from the kitchen. “You can’t force her words.”

Elias grumbled. “Mama,” he said, much quieter so Svea wouldn’t hear. “Mama.”

“DADA!”

***

“Gröt,” Svea cooed as she spooned some more oatmeal into a spoon. It was already all over Margot’s face and hands, Margot loving every spoonful. Her big blue eyes looked at the spoon excitedly. “This is gröt, Margot. Gröt.”

“Do we really want Margot’s first Swedish word to be oatmeal?” Elias laughed as he joined his girls at the table, setting his mug of coffee down and placing Svea’s tea beside her on the table.

“It’s at least a single syllable,” Svea mused. She looked back at Margot, who had just swallowed the spoonful of oatmeal and was pointing at Elias taking a sip of his coffee. “Gröt. Gröt!” Svea repeated. “Gröt!”

Margot pointed emphatically. “Fika!” she said suddenly. Svea’s and Elias’s jaws dropped. “Fika!”

Elias snorted from behind Svea. “Fika. Of course her first Swedish world would be fika.”

***

“If I’m going to go back to work – I mean, I am, it’s not a question – we need to find a good daycare,” Svea said, eyes focused on her laptop screen as Margot was napping.

“More important than the daycare, Svea, is if you’re ready,” Elias cautioned. “Are you ready to go back to work?”

Svea had thought about it a lot – she really did. Being at home with Margot was amazing, of course – it was the best thing ever, and she valued every millisecond – but she was ready to return to her career. It wasn’t that she had a duty or an obligation to, or that she was feeling forced or pressured or put it on herself to be a do-it-all working mother. She just…genuinely felt like it was the right thing to do for her. Svea never saw herself as a stay-at-home-mother, even though she and Elias had boatloads full of money and she was told by co-workers, well-meaning-but-ultimately-offensive-friends, and random people that she didn’t need to work. “I’m ready,” she nodded her head. “I know it’s not going to be the same as it was before, that I won’t be working as hard, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’ve already perfected my role. I’ve already won an election for my party. But I still��I still want to work.”

Elias nodded his head. He knew Svea meant every word. And who was he to say no? There was no way. He never held Svea back before, and he wasn’t going to start now. “Then let’s look at daycares.”

***

“Every daycare we’ve been to, I haven’t gotten the best feeling,” Svea admitted to Grace as she was over her house for coffee. Dukey and Margot were playing in their playpen in eyeshot as the women spoke about their lives. “And it’s not me being…me. I can’t picture Margot there. I just can’t. And it’s not me being picky either. We even brought her to our favourite place to see if she’d like it and she was wailing the entire time.”

Grace was nodding in understanding, but the second Svea mentioned picturing Margot in a daycare, the lightbulb went off in her brain. “Svea, why don’t I watch her every day?”

Svea was taken aback. “W—What?”

“What if I watched her? I’m already home with Dukey anyway. And you know Margot is comfortable here at the house, and she knows me. What if I watched her?”

Svea shook her head. “Grace, no. No. I couldn’t do that to you—”

“You’re not doing it to me if I’m offering,” Grace said. “You know how much I love kids. It would be so fun for me! And for Dukey! And you know how much the girls adore her so when they get home from school you know they’ll be all about it too. Will you promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

***

--- OFFICE OF THE PREMIER OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE ---

The Office of the Premier would like to formally thank Mitchell Maloney for fulfilling his duties as the acting chief of staff for the past eighteen months. The office would like to formally announce that Maloney will be assigned the role of Deputy Communications Director, effective two weeks from today, as he transfers out of his position.

The Office of the Premier would like to formally welcome back Svea Pettersson from her maternity leave. Pettersson will continue to fulfill her duties as the Premier’s Chief of Staff moving forward.

***

“Oooooooooohhhhh fuuuuuuck, Elias,” Svea moaned, looking over her shoulder at Elias who had just slipped into her from behind. “Feels so good baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Svea nodded. “I love it when you fuck me from behind.”

She could hear Elias let out a low chuckle. He began moving in and out of her slowly, almost too slowly, because Svea groaned, and Elias watched as she grabbed at their bedsheets, making her knuckles white. “Fuck me, Elias.”

“What’s that, pretty girl?” he asked mischievously.

“Fuck me, Elias. Fuck me harder,” Svea begged.

Elias bent over, placing kisses along her shoulders before nestling his head in the crook of her neck so he could whisper in her ear. “I fucking love it when you beg.”

***

“Can you say bye-bye to Mama? Bye bye!” Grace cooed as she bent down to be at level with both Margot and Svea who was already bending down, having kissed her daughter for a solid two minutes, unable to leave just yet. “Say bye-bye!”

“Bye bye Margot! You be good for mommy!” Svea cooed, her voice cracking as she began waving her hand so Margot could mimic her. “Bye bye!”

“Bah-bah!” Margot clasped her hand open and closed. “Bah-bah!”

“Bye-bye!” Svea wiped a tear that had fallen from her eye. She stood up, and Grace followed, picking up Margot and balancing her on her hip. “Please call me if—”

“I will, I will,” Grace interrupted. “Please don’t worry. I’ve got it. Enjoy your first day at work knowing your daughter is safe and having fun.”

“I’m definitely gonna try…can’t guarantee it’ll happen,” Svea tried to joke.

***

“Go like this Margot! Like this!” Elias said as he was on his knees, clutching a mini-stick, trying to show Margot how to hit the ball into the little hockey net they purchased months ago, which inevitably became the one thing that helped Margot learn how to walk the most.

Margot watched intently as her dad gripped the mini stick and hit the ball into the net, fetching to get it before placing it in front of her. “Shoot! Shoot!” he encouraged, making a swooping motion with the stick.

Margot looked down at the ball, and in one swift movement, she brought her mini-stick down and hit it straight into the net. Elias went wild. He began screaming and clapping and raising his hands in the air, causing Margot to start screaming and clapping and raising her hands up in the air too. He swooped her up in his arms and gave her raspberry-style kisses, causing her to shriek and giggle loudly and controllably. “Margot wins the game! Margot wins the game!” he screamed in between kisses.

Svea could hear them from upstairs as she read over some work documents for tomorrow. She felt her heart swell with love.

***

“Who knew when we were twenty and lame that we’d be surrounded by this many girls,” Brock mused, cracking open a can of beer for Elias. Both men looked out onto Elias’s backyard to see Violet, Rose, Lily, Poppy, and Margot all playing together, blowing bubbles and trying to catch them without popping them. Margot was always unsuccessful, but she was having the time of her life.

Elias nodded his head. “We’re a pair of pretty lucky guys though,” he commented.

Brock nodded his head, looking at his four daughters. “The luckiest guys in the world.”

Later in the afternoon, when Margot had to go down for her nap, Elias was rocking her back and forth as she fell asleep on his shoulder. Rose was quiet as she stood with him in the room, keeping a watchful eye and making sure Svea was falling asleep. When Elias laid Margot down on the bed, Rose finally spoke. “Uncle Petey?”

“Yes Rosey?”

“Can Margot be my sister?”

Elias smiled. “I think she already is.”

***

“I’m actually gonna sob. She looks so cute,” Svea commented as Elias finished putting on Margot’s toddler skates. Margot was bundled up in a blue jacket with green tights, the colour of the Canucks, and her helmet was already placed securely on her head. “You excited, Margot?”

“Yaaa!” she squeaked out, smiling at her mom. “Skate!”

“Yes! We’re going skating!” Elias cooed, picking her up and placing her on his hip as he and Svea began their walk towards the ice.

Svea made sure to get her phone ready on video mode, knowing she’d been taking tons and tons of videos. Most of the Canucks and their families were already on the ice, but Margot had had a mini meltdown when the helmet was put on, which delayed them. Elias stepped onto the ice, keeping Margot on his hip as he skated around quickly, making her laugh hysterically. Eventually, he carefully set her down on the ice, crouching down slightly behind her. She began moving her feet as if she was walking, with Elias holding her hands above her head.

“Look at mommy Margot! Say hi to mommy!” Elias said as Svea followed them, skating backwards slowly, filming a video on her phone.

“Hiiiiiii!” Margot said, smiling through the wire. “Hiiiiii!”

“Hi baby! Look at you skating!” Svea cooed as she continued the video. “Look at you go!”

Margot squealed excitedly, looking back up at her dad who was smiling down at her as well. “Skate! Skate!”

***

“Let’s hope she knows how to blow this time and doesn’t fart again,” Brock commented as he helped Elias light the candles on Margot’s 2nd birthday cake.

“We’ll see,” Elias giggled. “We haven’t practiced.”

Brock carried the cake so Elias could be beside Margot and Svea. Everybody began singing happy birthday, and when he placed the cake in front of Margot, she clapped and wiggled excitedly. Once everyone finished singing, it was time to see. “Blow, Margot! Blow!” Grace called out.

She took a deep breath in. She looked like she was going to do it on her own. And then…

Fart noise.

Everybody burst out into hysterical laughter. “Two-for-two!” Brock screamed.

***

“Margot…Margot, look here,” Svea said as she balanced her on her knee, reading her a book since she’d requested it. “Look here,” she pointed at the words at the bottom of the page.

Margot reached her hands out and pulled the book closer to her eyes. Svea noticed her squinting until she brought the book really close to her face. She put her finger above her mom’s and pointed to the animal on the page. “Monkey!” she said.

Svea felt worry pool in the pit of her stomach. She pushed the book back to its original distance away from Margot and turned the page. “What’s this, Margot?” she asked again.

Margot reached out again to bring the book close to her eyes. “Monkey in tree!”

“Good job, baby,” Svea cooed, closely watching her daughter. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Margot was just tired. But Svea knew she was going to mention it to Elias when he got home. “You’re so smart, baby.”

***

They were pink, naturally, because Margot got to choose and she was all about anything pink. Elias was worried they would bother her, or she wouldn’t like them, or put up a giant fit once they were finally on and she realized she had to wear them all the time. He’d shed a tear or two about it, worried like any father would be. But Margot was taking to them surprisingly well.

“Look, Margot!” Margot’s optometrist smiled as she held up a mirror for Margot to see herself. “These are your new glasses! They’re for you!”

“PINK!” Margot exclaimed, swinging her feet excitedly as she saw herself in the mirror.

“Yes, they’re pink!”

Margot looked up at her dad; she was sitting on his lap, after all. Her giant smile with her little teeth caused him to smile too. “Pink, daddy!”

“What’s this, Margot?” the optometrist had already opened a book and held it open a way’s away from Margot. “What’s this right here?” she pointed to Big Bird on the page.

“Big Bird!”

***

Elias groaned as he finally slipped his hard cock into Svea. They had been spooning in bed for what felt like hours that morning, waking up well before Margot usually did. Elias could hear Svea groan at his length filling her up from behind, and she savoured the feeling of him peppering kisses on the backs of her shoulder blades. “Good morning, pretty girl,” Elias mumbled coarsely in her ear as he thrust in and out of her slowly.

“G’morning, baby,” Svea smiled. She felt Elias’s hand snake up from her hip to her breast, cupping it in his hand. “I could get used to waking up with your hard cock inside of me.”

“Mmm, be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.”

“I know exactly what I’m wishing for.”

Elias began moving his hips more, making sure he was getting exactly the right angle even though their movement were still slow and purposeful; when Svea began moaning, closing her eyes when they rolled to the back of her head, he knew what he was doing was exactly what she wanted and needed. “I love you so fucking much,” she mumbled out, putting her hand over his that was still cupping her breast.

“I love you too,” he placed a tender kiss on her neck. “Thank you for giving me everything I’ve ever needed.”

Svea smiled at that, biting down on her bottom lip. “The pleasure’s been all mine.”

***

On a beautiful, hot, and sunny afternoon in Ånge, Elias couldn’t help but smile as he watched his dad hold Margot as they swam in the pool together at his parents’ house. Margot was having the time of her life in the water – after the baby swimming classes Svea had signed her up for, Elias figured she’d be happy and in her element. His dad couldn’t get enough of being a grandpa to a little girl, and neither could his mom. They spoiled all of their grandchildren. Törbjörn had even bought Margot a little bucket hat with the Swedish flag on it to wear while they were in the pool.

“Gillar du att stänka vattnet?” his dad cooed as Margot splashed the water with her hands. “Tänk om jag gjorde det här?” he asked again, throwing her up in the air and catching her low enough so she could splash in the water. Margot shrieked in delight, and that was enough reason for Törbjörn to continue.

Elias laughed along with his daughter. She had the best grandpa.

***

“Look at all the pretty flowers Margot,” Svea said as she held Margot against her hip, watching Elias as he crowned her with a beautiful flower crown that Fanny helped him make.

“Woooowww,” Margot said, grabbing at it because she was so excited.

“Gentle!” Elias warned softly. He didn’t want it to break after Fanny worked so hard on it. “Be gentle, Margot,” he repeated as he made sure it was on snugly and properly before pulling his hands away.

“My flower! My crown!” she smiled. “Daddy, you have flowers too?”

Elias eyed Svea with a smirk on his face. Svea knew he’d already crumbled. All it took was that question from Margot. He hadn’t exactly planned on wearing a flower crown, but he knew exactly where this was headed now. “You want daddy to wear flowers too?”

Margot nodded her head enthusiastically. “Mommy, daddy, me match!”

What Margot wanted; Margot got.

***

“It would be the first picture we’ve posted of her since the Christmas card photos leaked,” Elias mused as he looked at the picture on his Instagram, almost, almost ready to hit the elusive ‘post’ button.

“We didn’t release those – they were posted without our consent,” Svea clarified. She was right. They had no control over that and were actually really upset about it. To this day, they still don’t know who did it. “This would be the first photo you post of her willingly.”

Elias looked over at his wife. “Do you think I should do it? It’s so fucking cute,” he looked back at his phone, admiring the picture one more time.

In it, Margot was in her pink fluffy bathrobe, her wet hair combed back, and she was sitting on Elias’s chest as they were in bed together. Elias was holding her, pursing his lips, and Margot was putting lip balm on his lips. A classic “girl dad” photo, he thought. And if he was going to send any message out into the world about his child and the relationship he had with her, it was going to be what was encapsulated in this picture.

Svea snuggled herself into Elias’s side, bringing her hand up and pressing ��post’ for him. “There,” she said, smiling. “All done.”

***

“When she blows out the candles, she better fart again.”

“You’re gross.”

“She’s gotta go three-for-three, Petey, or else this party is a bust.”

“You have a boy – can’t you go make fart jokes with him?”

“I have a boy who has grown up with four older sisters. He isn’t exactly one for fart jokes.”

Elias shook his head at Brock, but he couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face. “You finally get a boy after four girls and you can’t even make a fart joke with him,” he shook his head playfully. “Just your luck, eh?”

Brock shook his head. “I have five healthy, beautiful kids. I’ll take whatever I get.”

When Elias carried the cake in and Brock began recording on his phone, everybody began singing happy birthday to Margot – a happy, energetic but cautious, giggly but quiet, exactly-like-both-her-parents’-temperaments-it-was-kind-of-scary-three year old, who every day was looking more and more like Elias’s double. She adjusted her glasses as everyone sang to her, and clapped along too. When it was time to blow, she did.

No fart noises.

“Noooooooo!” Brock groaned loudly. Elias pretended like he was going to backslap him over the head. “No fart noise!”

“It was fun while it lasted,” Svea winked at him.

***

“Will they be in my class, mommy?” Margot asked as she looked into the classroom sheepishly, a little shy now that she was in a new environment. Elias and Svea had started to talk to her about school, and how – now that she was a big girl – she needed to start going to school to learn, just like how Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy went to school.

“Can I go to Poppy’s school?” she asked nervously one day.

Elias and Svea decided to take her there, knowing that it would make her feel more comfortable. Knowing that Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy went there too put her at ease. When they saw all the girls in the junior kindergarten class in their green plaid dresses, they could tell Margot recognized them from seeing them on the Boeser girls.

“These girls won’t be in your class, but new girls who are the same age as you will be,” Svea said. “Do you like that?”

Margot hesitated slightly before nodding her head. “I like new friends.”

***

“She is out cold,” Svea smiled as she lowered herself slowly and gently onto the couch, making sure not to disturb the peaceful image before her: Margot, after an exciting and fun day of shopping for her new school uniform, completely knocked out in Elias’s arms, sleeping soundly on his chest as he rubbed her back.

Svea cradled her body into Elias, too, snuggling up against him and admiring her daughter. From the blonde hair on her head, to her pink glasses on her face, to her cute little toes Elias still loved to pretend to eat, she was perfect. As Svea thought this, she felt Elias grab her hand between them and bring it up to his lips for a kiss, holding on to it as his thumb grazed over her skin. “We did alright in the end, didn’t we?”

Svea smiled and nodded her head. “We did.”

“She’s perfect. She’s just perfect,” he said, placing the lightest of kisses atop Margot’s head.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Svea admitted.

Elias looked over at her, craning his head down to give his wife a kiss. “I love you more than I know how to explain. Thank you for giving me the light in my life.”

***

“Then all around from far away across the world, he smelled good things to eat, so he gave up being king of where the wild things are,” Elias read to Margot as they cuddled together in the rocking chair in her room. In her comfortable jammies and with her head on his chest, she was mouthing along to all the words of the book. Elias could see her get progressively more tired as he flipped through the pages, though she kept trying to mouth along and kept trying to keep her eyes open.

When they finished, Elias put the book on her bedside table as he cradled Margot in his arms and lay her down in bed, making sure to put the covers over her just how she liked. Still struggling to keep her eyes open, he brushed some hair out of her face. “Daddy?” she asked in her sweet voice.

“Yes baby?”

“I love you daddy.”

Elias smiled. “I love you too, Margot.”

“Will you read to me always?” she asked.

Elias nodded his head automatically. “Always.”

***

“Look at her go!” Grace exclaimed as she watched Margot zoom around the ice, chasing Poppy and Dukey around as they all giggled like maniacs. “I mean, who am I kidding? The daughter of Elias Pettersson? Of course she’s gonna skate like that!”

“She’s definitely a natural,” Svea smiled as her eyes followed her daughter around the ice. Brock and Elias both skated up behind their kids and scooped them up in their arms, giving them kisses before setting them back down on the ice together. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve all come…based on where we started when we met each other in our early twenties?”

“All the time,” Grace nodded. “We were so young! We were kids! Now there’s six kids between us!”

“A little skewed on your side, though,” Svea winked.

Grace elbowed her playfully. “We did good.”

***

“Margot! Margot!” Elias called out to his daughter who was already having fun with a new friend in her classroom as they played with a xylophone together. Other parents were in the room doing the exact same thing as he and Svea: making sure everything was okay on the first day of school. But the longer he and Svea stood there watching her, the more they realized she didn’t need them there; that she would thrive in the classroom and not have a meltdown about being in a new place.

To her credit, Margot listened when she heard her dad call her name and got up from her seat to hop over to her parents. “Mommy and daddy have to go now,” Elias said as he and Svea crouched down so they could by at eye-level with her. She nodded her head in understanding. “You listen to Mrs. Becker, okay?”

“I will.”

“Aunt Grace is going to come pick you up with Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy. Remember?” Svea asked.

“Yes mommy.”

“And remember—” Svea choked up slightly, Elias putting her hand over hers. “Mommy and daddy love you very much.”

“I love you too!” Margot said as she hugged her parents goodbye before skipping back to her friend and playing with the xylophone again.

Elias and Svea said goodbye to Mrs. Becker and held hands as they left the school building and walked back together to their car in the parking lot, silent the entire time. When Svea looked over at Elias once they were back in the privacy of their car, she could see tears streaming down his face. “Now you’re going to make me cry,” she said, wiping a few tears that had fallen.

“She’s so good. I’m so proud of her,” he said, wiping his own tears with the backs of his hands. “No meltdowns! Just walked right in there and started making friends. She’s so good.”

“Don’t jinx it – she might have a meltdown tomorrow,” Svea joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It garnered a smile out of Elias. He looked at his wife and placed his hand over hers tenderly. “I love you so much,” he mumbled, bringing her hand up to kiss it before cradling it against his chest, above his heart. All these years later, I’ve just grown to love you more, if that’s even possible.”

“I think it is, because I grew to love you more too,” Svea said softly. “My Elias. Always my Elias.

He kissed her hand again. “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years ago

Text

feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling

summary: requested: andy barber being obsessed with the thought of reader being pregnant and wanting nothing more than to be a dad. being the most doting, caring man throughout the whole pregnancy, rubbing reader's feet and going out to get all her cravings and rubbing her stomach constantly. crying when he feels the baby kick. painting the whole nursery himself and spoiling the hell out of their little bundle when it arrives. andy barber being domestic and soft as hell in general gets me so weak.

warnings: some smut. pool smut. not the same pool bc that was a public pool but it needed to happen so. andy being cute, as cute as i’m sure he was when his wife was pregnant. (my proof: that smile every time someone asks him if he’s jacob’s dad)

word count: almost 10,000. honestly, i was going to keep going but jesus 10,000?!

pairing: andy barber x reader

How many brands of pregnancy tests existed in this world?

Honestly, beyond 5, what the fuck was the point? They measured the same shit, did they not? You didn’t care enough to find out, but during the period of painful silence, you thought about googling the answer.

You were in the tub, wrapped up in one of Andy’s hoodies, just watching him. He was at the counter, looking at the timer. He’d gone out to pick up the tests for what you guys had decided would be your new routine.

You’d always had sex a lot, but lately, Andy didn’t want to go a night without. Not because he was under the impression that would be a more effective method, he just literally could not keep his hands off you anymore. He asked you that morning if you wanted to make Friday night the test night. It made sense, he had his weekends off and that meant he could skulk around the house if it didn’t happen.

Most tests took 2 to 3 minutes. Some took 15 for whatever fucking reason. He wanted to wait for all of them, so for a quarter of an hour, you were just stuck there. Waiting. With him. Which shouldn’t have been so stressful, but it was.

The day you told him you wanted to try for a baby, he didn’t let you out of bed. Even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen for a while since you needed to finish your last week and a half of birth control. He had just been so happy, any attempts made to hide his obsession with you getting pregnant were tossed out the window immediately.

He’d thought about it before you, he’d wanted it before you, but hearing that you finally wanted it too just triggered something. He bought parenting books because he figured during your pregnancy, he wouldn’t have that much time to read. He bought this huge ass book of names and after he fucked you, he liked to bring it out and try to talk you into names he wanted while you were in such a blissful state.

Every second of trying had made you fall in love with him more. Yes, you wanted kids, but honestly, babies didn’t much appeal to you. You understood that to get to kids, you had to deal with the babies and you were okay with that, but mainly, you wanted to make Andy a father. You knew he would be good at it, possibly the best in the world.

And even with all the wanting, he never put pressure on you. The morning you told him you were done with the birth control, he sat you down and had the longest talk with you just to make sure that he hadn’t done anything to make you think he was losing patience with you. He wanted a baby, but he needed a happy wife. He didn’t want any part of something that you weren’t completely on board with.

But with wanting to try, you needed to make some changes. You were always fairly active since Andy had his busy days and you didn’t like just sitting and doing nothing while you waited for him to get home. With trying to conceive, your workouts had to be a little more basic. Longer, but less intense runs, some yoga. Andy had read that cardio was important, you thought up swimming. The very next day, he was already making plans to expand the house and add an indoor swimming pool. When you gave him a look, he pointed out that the kids would love it when they were old enough to swim. How could you possibly say no?

Caffeine was next on the chopping block. Andy, the sweetheart that he was, knew how much you loved coffee and tried his hardest to cut it out as well. He wanted to show you that you weren’t in this alone. It was your body, yes, but he would make sacrifices, too. The first time you caught him falling asleep at the dinner table, you had to tell him to end his noble support. With a job like his, he needed his coffee. The compromise was that he wouldn’t drink it in your presence.

He also did insane amounts of research. Even after you stopped the pill, he insisted on using condoms for a month after so you could start getting some folic acid before ending up pregnant. That was quite the sacrifice. One of your favorite things on this planet was when he finished inside you. Not a fucking condom. But you were trying this thing where you didn’t express negativity because with Andy as your husband, there was no way not to feel like a brat. How was someone so perfect?

Your period hadn’t returned yet but that didn’t mean you were incapable of getting pregnant. Hence the random, shot-in-the-dark pregnancy test Friday plan. You didn’t feel pregnant and you knew that was stupid. Some didn’t know they were pregnant until they were giving birth. And you’d never been pregnant before, so how would you know what to look for? You just couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t feel it. You also didn’t want to tell Andy because you hoped you were wrong.

It had been a week short of two months without the pill and three weeks since he stopped wearing condoms. The chances of it just falling into place were slim—you didn’t have research to back that up, just some deeply-rooted cynicism. Maybe it was your defense mechanism, act like you saw it coming and you wouldn’t be disappointed. Right?

Wrong, which you discovered when you saw Andy’s face after he turned over one of the tests. You wouldn’t cry because it had been a total of 5 seconds and some people had to try much longer, and you didn’t want him to have to put aside his feelings to then console you. You did, however, want to cry.

“We should see a doctor,” you said.

He scoffed. “We haven’t really been trying that long.”

“But we can, why not?”

He finally turned to you, forcing his expression into something that didn’t break your heart just to see. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. Andy, I told you that I’m ready.”

“I know, and trust me, there’s nothing that I want more. I just also think there’s still some romance in being old fashioned and just letting it happen.”

“Google is your new best friend, Andy. Why not consult an actual professional?”

“We can, if you want, but like I said, it hasn’t been that long. Besides, until you start your period again, it’s probably just a waiting game. Not always, but it can be. We should be realistic about this. I don’t want to waste a visit down to the doctor just so they can tell us what my new best friend already has.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, “if that’s what you want—”

“None of that. What do you want?”

“I want to be the mother of your children.”

He sighed, crouching down to your side. “You will be.”

“You don’t know that—”

“No, I do,” he insisted. “Because I’m not going to stop fucking you. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go see a doctor. If there’s a problem, we will fix it. If we can’t, we will adopt. Are we clear? There is no way, Mrs. Barber, that you will not be the mother of my children one day. And because I damn well know that I deserve it, I will have the great honor of being the father of your children.”

You sighed and melted, but you hoped that much wasn’t apparent. “You’re so lame.”

He smirked. “Wanna get out of that tub so we can have sex?”

“Why can’t we have sex in the tub?”

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe, but no water.”

“Okay, that’s weird.”

You shrugged. “Fine, I’ll get out of the tub.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went to stand up but you caught his arm before he could. He took one look at you and was already shaking his head. “Don’t even say it—”

“I am, though.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Ever.”

“I feel bad.”

“You shouldn’t. It could be me. It could be nothing. Baby, it is too soon to start worrying about anything. Avoid stress, that is what you need to be doing.”

He could say it a million different ways, you were still sorry.

It was troubling how excited you were to get your period back. Honestly, when the birth control had finally taken it away, you cried. Tears of joy. To have the same reaction over getting it back felt weird.

Andy also seemed excited until you outlined just how inconvenient the whole thing was. Okay, that was being negative, but you were kind of in a bad mood. Something he was not at all bothered by. Because of course. He hadn’t been bothered by a single thing since you told him you wanted to start trying.

Officially, four months into wanting a baby and the only thing keeping you holding on was your beautiful, loving husband. He always knew when you were feeling down, so he would talk about the future and how nice it would be when you could finally take the kids out on family trips. How great taking them to school would be. All the fun things you would get them into, dance, sports, anything that you both could go and support. You were completely lost on how he was so positive all the time.

You needed to keep going, though. Like he said, you guys had options. It was better to know sooner rather than later, so you pushed forward. Sadly, your periods were irregular so you would probably ovulate irregularly. And you weren’t even aware of when you were ovulating because Andy still wanted this to be “natural”.

The second Friday with negative results was clearly taxing on both of you. He decided to end it immediately. That was why you had taken to sneaking pregnancy tests any chance you got. You didn’t like not telling him but you always felt like a failure every time it came back negative. But life went on, that much he made sure of.

The pool was finished and he seemed to like it more than you did. In fact, your liking it extended only as far as getting to see him wet and shirtless. But you were still in there 4 to 5 times a week for 30 minutes after you got home from work on weekdays and early on weekends. Because you did everything you were supposed to do. Because you didn’t want to feel like this was your fault, like there was something you were doing that would prevent this.

He came in one Saturday morning just as you were getting out. “Done?”

“Yeah, I served my time,” you joked. “I should get started on lunch. Any requests?”

“No, whatever sounds good to you.”

You went inside, fully intending to make lunch. But something that just didn’t make sense was how much you craved sex with Andy. It seemed like the more you had, the more you wanted. You guys were always sexual. At the start, after a month or so, every date ended with sex. When you moved in with him, it was more nights than not, even after you got married. But this was every day, numerous times a day.

He was turned on by the idea of getting you pregnant. He was insatiable for that reason. Sex this often wasn’t normal and it probably wasn’t raising your chances of conceiving since you weren’t being too methodical about it, but you were thrilled with this change. You worried about how much sex you would have once you were pregnant anyway, you figured you should start preparing for the long months ahead.

You were only in the kitchen for three minutes, trying to find food that would interest you more than what was currently on your mind. It didn’t work.

You returned to Andy. He was swimming his laps, completely oblivious. You stripped out of your bathing suit where you stood at the edge of the pool. He only made it three more times back and forth before he must have sensed you there.

He turned up, brushing his wet hair out of his face. When he saw you naked, his eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

“Well, unless you want me to wait for you to finish. I could just sit and watch, take care of myself until you can.”

“Here,” he decided. “Now.”

You smirked, sauntering off to the right where the stairs were. He made his way to you just before you descended the last step. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you took your cue to jump up and wrap yourself around him.

He carried you further into the water, lips moving against yours. You clung to his shoulders and your legs locked around his hips. “You are wild and demanding,” he accused.

You scoffed. “Me?”

He pretended to think about it. “Well, I guess it was me who stopped dinner last night, me who couldn’t wait until we left the grocery store, me who had you pull over while we were driving a few days ago, and me who came in here naked—oh, wait—“

You laughed. “Well, I’m just trying to prepare myself for when we’re hardly doing this anymore.”

“When we retire?”

You snorted. “No. You know, when I’m pregnant.”

He scoffed, pressing you against the side of the pool. You felt a hand moving between you, working his shorts out of the way. “You think I’m not going to fuck you when you’re pregnant?”

“Well...I assumed, yeah.”

He nudged your chin with his nose until you tilted your head back, offering him your neck. He kissed you softly as he indelicately pushed into you.

You clutched at his shoulders harder, whining his name.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to be able to refrain from touching you. Especially while you’re pregnant.”

You angled your head so you could see his face. He looked downright amused at what you were saying.

The pace and pressure of his hips immediately became punishing. He held you tight, hands on your hips as he fucked you. “You don’t even know how hard I get thinking about you carrying my child.”

Maybe it was what he was saying, maybe it was that you had wanted him inside you since you woke up, but it wasn’t taking long to get you there. You brought one hand up to the edge of the pool for a little more support.

Andy began kissing your neck and nipping at your chest. “I think about how beautiful you’re going to look, I think about how I’m going to have you riding me every day.”

You could picture that. Fuck. You were rarely on top now because you loved being underneath him and he loved pinning you down to the mattress, but when you got bigger, you would have to adapt. It didn’t sound as boring as you’d had yourself convinced it was when he said it.

“Every morning before I go to work, I’ll wake you up with my mouth between your legs.”

You let out a shaky breath. “What’s stopping you from doing that now?”

“You,” he promised. “I can barely open my eyes before you’re telling me to get inside you. You’ll be slower when you’re pregnant, less of a predator, more of a prey.”

You scoffed but it became a moan. If he kept talking like this, you were going to come soon.

“Some women are more sensitive when they’re pregnant,” he asserted. “I bet you will be. You’re already so sensitive. I’m going to spend every weekend fucking you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“Andy.” You turned your head toward him and he kissed you. You whimpered when you felt his hand at your cunt, fingers pressing against your clit so gently.

You finished first but he was close behind, turning his head down to groan into your shoulder.

He rode out his high slowly, kissing any part of your skin that was in his reach. He lifted you out of the water, onto the tiled floor surrounding the pool. He kissed both of your knees, then your calves, all while keeping his eyes on you. “Sound like a plan?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Really, I should make lunch.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You headed out, back to the kitchen.

“You’re not getting dressed?”

“Nope.”

Four months, one week, and six days later, you were pregnant. You’d felt weird, it was 3 in the morning, Andy was asleep, and you knew you weren’t going to be able to rest until you found out.

Technically, you hadn’t missed your period yet. Sometimes you started on the 17th, others the 22nd through the 24th. Oh, but there was also the wonderful time you had started on the 5th. That time, you did cry. He might have too, but never in front of you because he was trying to be the most positive man on earth.

You only took two tests, the ones with the least amount of wait time. The results came back positive and for a moment, you just sat there. You had been terrified that it wasn’t going to happen. You worried about how much that would hurt Andy. You also stupidly worried about the possibility that he would leave you over it.

But that didn’t matter anymore. You were pregnant and he was going to be thrilled. After being a little annoyed that you took the test without him, you assumed.

You weren’t sure how to tell him. When to tell him. It was 3 in the morning and he had to work. Maybe after he got home. If you told him when he woke up, he was just going to want to stay home.

Logically, you knew false positives were not the same as false negatives. But it was just like when you were in junior high and you didn’t get your period so you were convinced you were pregnant even though you were very much not having sex. Yes, you were paranoid but you just wanted to be sure. The only thing worse than not getting pregnant would be getting Andy’s hopes up.

You waited until he was at work and then made an appointment. This would also annoy him because he wanted to do extensive research when selecting a doctor. You weren’t robbing him of that, you just wanted to have confirmation. The second you did, you would tell him and start looking at doctors.

You had it scheduled four days out, Thursday. You could get in on your lunch hour. It was odd going and explaining to the nurse your thought process and why you couldn’t schedule a follow-up appointment after the confirmation. She must have thought you were an idiot, you possibly were, but you were a happy idiot.

That night, when Andy arrived home, you were waiting on the couch for him. Once again, unclothed. You’d gotten quite used to being nude, having him undress you every time either of you wanted sex was just ridiculous. There wasn’t a word said as he laid over you on the couch, not bothering to get undressed. He just moved his pants and then he was inside you.

He didn’t move at first, instead, he rubbed your clit until you finished around him.

You draped a leg over his ass. “Andy, fuck me.”

“Not yet, baby.” His fingers circled over your clit again, his eyes fixed on yours and wanting to see pleasure on your face. He was in a mood and that meant the sex was going to be exhausting. Worth it, but very unlike the easy and quick routines you’d gotten used to in all of the chaos of trying to get pregnant.

When he would join you in the shower because usually, you woke up earlier than him even though you went to work later, he would wrap his arms around you all sweet then shove you against the wall and make you come with him. When he would find you making dinner and fuck you over the counter. When you were up later than he wanted so he would just fuck you wherever you were until you were so exhausted that he had to carry you upstairs. No other married people had as much sex as you guys, you were almost certain.

You’d made a complete mess of his pants but he didn’t seem concerned about them. He sat up and set you on his lap, holding you in place as he thrust his hips up. There was always something amazing about sex with him still in his suit. It wasn’t like his clothing left much to the imagination anyway, you could see and feel the muscles in his arms and chest.

He continued fucking you until he was close, then he settled you flat against him and used his fingers to make you come again and again. Until he was sure he had come down enough from his almost-finish. Feeling your pussy move around him, the way you would tighten when you orgasmed, the way you continued to get wetter and wetter, he was addicted.

You grabbed his free hand and placed it on one of your breasts and he closed his mouth around the opposite. Again, he held you up so he had enough room to drive his cock into you, hard and deep, and so painfully slow. It must not have been the best day. He loved being in absolute control of you when he couldn’t be at work.

Once more, just as he was about to finish, and you could tell because his hands would tighten and his hips would start to stutter, he sat you on his lap.

You curled your hand under his jaw, pulling him from your breast up to your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, all tongue and desperate moans from both of you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he directed as he pulled away.

Your fingers instantly dropped to your clit and you began drawing yourself toward another end. He wouldn’t let you stop, not after the first, the second, the third. Your hand was shaking, you were shaking, he had to hold you by the shoulders otherwise you would have fallen back. The entire time, he remained buried in your cunt, hard and not doing a damn thing about it. He was using you to edge himself and that made you impossibly wet.

He repeated this, more times than you could count. He didn’t say a word either, just led your hand down to your clit or used his own when he knew you couldn’t. Sometimes the sex was like this, he was working through something and he didn’t want to talk at first. It was about proving to himself that he had enviable control, and he definitely did because it wasn’t like you made it easy for him.

When he laid you down on the coffee table, he began pounding into you. You could tell when he was almost there because he was getting louder, grunting into your skin, or groaning as he bit down on your shoulder, your breast, your neck.

He pulled out before then and you felt inclined to put a stop to this madness.

“Andy.”

His hand made its way back to your pussy as he stroked his cock with his opposite. Moments later, he was spilling out onto your skin. As he continued fucking you with his fingers, you ran your hands over your stomach, spreading his cum along your body until you reached your breasts. You loved having his cum on you and he loved seeing it on you.

After your orgasm, he sat back on the couch as he worked to catch his breath. “Sorry, that was kind of a waste.”

“Not really.” You continued teasing him with your hands on your breasts and these small mewls that you knew he was already getting worked up over again.

He probably didn’t even realize what you’d said, too focused on watching you pinch and pull on your nipples.

You turned down a few minutes later, meeting his eye.

He kept his eyes on your hands as he spoke. “Wanna get in the shower while I make dinner?”

You moved off the table, legs shaky as you made your way to him. You caught his hand before he could sit you on his lap and sat down on the couch at his side. Leaning over, you took him in your mouth.

“Jesus,” he hissed.

After swallowing as much of him as you could, you set one of his hands on the back of your head. He knew what you wanted.

Holding you in place, he began rolling his hips. It wasn’t too forceful but you could feel him in the back of your throat. He was hard again in a matter of a few moments.

“God, your mouth is fucking perfect, baby.” He was losing his steady pace, his hips jerkier, slower sometimes. “All I could think about today was you. Your beautiful cunt, your fucking mouth. I’ve wanted to see you covered in my cum for so long, but...” he didn’t finish his sentence, you knew why he hadn’t.

You weren’t satisfied until you’d swallowed every drop of him. As you pulled off, he grabbed your hips and brought you onto one of his thighs. He kissed your forehead and began running his fingers through your hair.

“How was work?”

He shrugged. “You know.”

“Rough day?”

“It usually is,” he attempted to dismiss.

“Sounds like you could use good news.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You have good news?”

“Well, I’m pregnant.”

He blinked slowly, then abruptly sat up straight as his hands dropped to your hips. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, okay,” he blurted out. He moved you onto the couch, standing and tucking himself back into his pants. “Do you want to take a test?”

“I already took the test.”

“Without me?” he demanded. “How many?”

“I took two, but I went to the doctor to get it confirmed.”

“Without me?!” he repeated.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I am mad.” But then he leaned down and started kissing you so you figured he was going to get over it fairly quickly. He pulled away, both hands coming up to your face. “I can’t believe you. How long have you known?”

“I took the test 4 days ago. Went to the doctor today.”

“4 days?!”

“Andy, I didn’t want to get you excited if I wasn’t actually pregnant.”

“Well, can you take another test so I can see it? We have a billion upstairs.”

You scoffed. “Do you want me to? I will.”

“Yeah, kind of. I know it’s stupid—“

You shook your head. “It’s not, I can do it.”

He got on his knees on the floor, gently pressing you back to the couch. “I knew it would happen, I just didn’t think it was going to happen this soon.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still okay? You still want this?”

“Of course.”

He leaned forward, kissing your throat all the way down to your stomach. You shivered at the sensation of his beard prickling against your skin. He continued kissing you and you ran your fingers through his hair.

He turned up to you, lips still pressed just below your navel. “It’ll be a girl.”

You scoffed. “Andy, you don’t know that.”

“I do,” he insisted.

“You never said you wanted a girl.”

“I want any baby you can give me.”

“Even if it was a demon baby that turned out to be a cannibal?”

“As long as it had your smile, yes.”

You snorted. “And your eyelashes!”

“And your cheekbones.”

You ran your finger along the bridge of his nose. “Your nose.”

“Is it red like all the other demon babies?”

“You’re in too good of a mood.”

“Impossible, no mood is too good considering you’re carrying my daughter.”

“Stop,” you scolded half-heartedly. “Look, you have a total of at least 15 weeks before you find out whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

“You have 15 weeks.”

“Andrew Barber,” you scoffed, “stop.”

“Let’s bet.”

“No!” You laughed.

“Scared?”

“Don’t even try that with me.”

He shrugged. “You sound scared. I never knew that the woman who gave me a hand job in a movie theatre would be such a baby—“

“Andy, if you don’t stop talking, all of this pregnant sex you’ve been fantasizing about is not going to happen.”

With a small smile, he shut his mouth.

“Upstairs? You want me to take the test?”

He scooped you up off the couch and headed toward your bedroom.

The next day, Andy was already working on all those grand promises he’d made. You woke with your calves draped over his shoulders, his lips wrapped around your clit, his hands folded over your hips to hold you down, and his beautiful blue eyes looking up at you.

Then he wanted to go shopping. He’d already called into work, not even bothering to lie about being sick. He was thrilled to let Lynn know that you were pregnant and apparently, she knew how big of a deal that was so she let him off the hook after making him promise to take pictures of what he was intending to do to the nursery.

He wanted to paint. You had wanted to leave it white. Gendered colors were stupid anyway. He’d said the same at the start, but he was currently waving pink swatches in your face.

“Andy, what if it’s a boy?”

He shrugged. “Then he’s going to have a pink nursery. Pink sky or pink pearl?”

You spared the colors a glance. “Pink pearl. Why can’t we just do one of those gender-neutral colors?”

“Because yellow is ugly and purple is loud.”

“Green.”

“Reminds me of spring.”

“Orange.”

“Pumpkins.”

“Red.”

“Blood.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, why not dark blue? I was kind of hoping we could do, like, a constellation theme.”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s do both. But instead of blue, we’ll use pink.”

“Okay,” and you were excited again. “You are insane, though. Just so you know.”

“Hardly. Do you know how behind I am? I wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. I haven’t found the doctor yet, I’m just barely starting on the nursery. We don’t have a name, we don’t have a crib. Essentially, we have nothing.”

Was he seriously already stressing about this? And that probably wasn’t even a fourth of what was going through his mind.

You reached over, finger tapping on the only pink color you’d seen that you liked enough to put on the walls. “We have a paint color. If you like it.”

He glanced between you and the color twice before nodding. “Okay.”

Walking through the aisles, you decided to take over. You threw all the tools he could possibly need in the cart and didn’t stop until you spotted the glitter. You stared straight at it until he got curious enough about what you were so focused on that he made his way to you. Adding glitter to paint was difficult, you knew because you had attempted before. Your friend’s sister’s kid was turning 7 and wanted to redesign her bedroom and you tagged along because glitter. It ended in tears and Andy buying you ice cream to make you feel better.

He sighed. “You want the glitter?”

“I simply cannot live without it.”

With another sigh, a much more resigned one, he started tossing in bags of the glitter additive. “You know you’re not helping, right?”

“What? Because of last time—?“

“No, because you’re pregnant.”

“Andy, it’s not even a baby yet. It’s a fetus. Can’t I just do what I would have always done up until the point that I can’t get an abortion?”

“That is not funny.”

You snorted. “It kind of is. Stop worrying.” You rolled onto your toes and kissed the tip of his nose. “Otherwise, you’re going to look like a grandfather instead of a father. And hey, I’d still be pretty attracted to you but we have more kids to make, so calm down.”

He banned you from the house. Yep, you had a total of one friend who was currently married and interested in children. That was the friend he wanted you to focus on, not the others, he said, that they meant well, but couldn’t possibly be supportive at a time like this. In reality, he never liked most of your friends. You kept them out of college and he always thought they liked to go out and drink too much.

Your friend was excited when you asked if you could stay with her for a bit. Andy wanted to paint immediately and then make sure all lingering traces of the paint were adequately gone from the house before you returned.

Painting took two days. He called you both mornings, brought you lunch at work, took you out to dinner, and made sure to call you before you went to bed.

Then he checked you both into a hotel for 3 days. You had to force him to go to work on Monday, pointing out that he really needed to be making money. You loved your job but it wasn’t as if the salary was sufficient to raise a baby on.

Andy let you revel in the beauty of the nursery up until the weekend. The constellations were a soft champagne color and the glitter was mixed in perfectly, evenly. It looked professionally done, but you weren’t surprised. He was perfect and everything he did for you and his child would be perfect as well.

Next, his mission was to find a crib and pick the doctor. Something that kept him on his laptop most of Saturday while you slept soundly next to him. You were already beginning to feel tired and you weren’t sure if that was because of him or your baby.

Time went by in a blur. He’d fallen into a routine effortlessly. He would wake you up as he told you he would, eating you out, then he would get you in the shower with him, and make sure you ate a good breakfast before he headed off to work. He would call at lunch, just to make sure you weren’t too exhausted to be at work. You always felt inclined to tell him stories about working pregnant women every time. He would come home and fix dinner and wouldn’t let you lift a finger to help. At night, after he thoroughly fucked you, which honestly didn’t take much, you would fall asleep together. It was a great first two months.

At the start of your 3rd month, you were already showing. It seemed like it was the best day of Andy’s life. In fact, he wanted to start a scrapbook. He wanted to document everything and you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was absolutely crazy. Besides, it was pretty cute.

It was around this time that you had the most absurd craving for almond butter. He loved almond butter so it was always in the house and you never once wanted any part of it. Randomly, you thought apples and almond butter sounded great and you finished the entire jar before he got home. Something that amused him greatly, he promised he would get more on his way home the next day. That new obsession lasted for a week and a half, and you had yourself convinced that it was going to be the worst of it.

No. Swap out apples for Cheetos. Seriously, you wanted to eat Cheetos and almond butter. You were downright ashamed so you didn’t even ask him to get you anything, you just snuck out to the store before he got home one night and bought yourself a sufficient stash that you kept hidden in the very back of the pantry. This wouldn’t work for the entire pregnancy but until you were further along, you intended to hide these horrible cravings.

Well, as well as you could. He was anticipating more after the almond butter so he always texted and asked if you wanted him to bring something home. So far, your genius combinations had been tacos and chocolate, macaroni and cheese and sour patch kids, cashews and Doritos, French fries and hot chocolate, and orange chicken and lemonade. Andy drove everywhere at any given hour. If there was a store open, he would go. If it was closed and you couldn’t wait that long, he would go to a 24-hour fast food place. He’d started stocking your favorites as well, and hiding them until you really needed them.

The day before you were set to find out the sex of the baby, he went shopping. You were far too tired to try to leave the house, especially since Andy could shop. You thought he would come home with more for the nursery. Since he’d found the crib, he’d started looking at bedding and the other matching furniture. You knew it would be extreme since you weren’t there to stop him. What you did not expect was that he would sneak in and take full advantage of your unconsciousness. If he hadn’t dropped something, you never would have caught him.

When you found him in the nursery, he was in the closet. Hanging up clothing. Pink clothing. For a girl. “Andy.”

“We are having a girl,” he stated simply.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered to yourself.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad I’m witnessing this insanity.”

He gave you a flat look, fully turning to you with a tiny black bodysuit with white hearts printed on it. “This could be for a boy, I don’t know what you’re so upset about it.”

You smirked. “Anything can be for a boy if you try hard enough. Look, if you wanted a girl so bad—“

“I wanted a baby.”

“Andy, you bought girl clothes!”

“Because we are having a girl.”

“You’re going to have this child alone if it doesn’t stop making me crave the most ridiculous things.”

He hummed. “Is that why you’re up here?” Smirking, he made his way to you. As usual, his hands went straight to your stomach, he had to feel any movement and it was driving him crazy that he hadn’t. “What do you want?”

You scoffed tiredly. “A lot of things. Yogurt, peach and blueberry. Something lemon, lemon squares, lemon cake. A lot of pasta, I really want spaghetti. And despite your incorrigible behavior, I want you.”

“You do mean sexually, right? Because I read sometimes pregnant women want to eat things that aren’t food—“

You placed your hand flat over his mouth. “I take it back, I just want the food.” You turned away to escape from the room but he was right on your tail. “Andy, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll get you the food,” he promised. “Let’s just make a quick stop to the bedroom first.”

You didn’t put up much resistance as he began leading you that way. He had been correct about one thing, you were so sensitive. You’d given up on wearing bras or underwear, and your clothes had to be loose. Especially given the dreams you were having. Much to his simultaneous joy and dismay, you would send him pictures and videos of certain sexual situations at least twice a week just a couple of hours before he got home.

That cocky bastard was correct. A fact that had him beaming the remainder of the appointment, all the way home, and even in his sleep. You weren’t upset that you were having a girl. It wasn’t that you thought you had a right to be picky, but very simply, you wanted a girl more than you wanted a boy. You weren’t even sure why. Gender wasn’t real and it wouldn’t upset you if someday in the future that little girl told you that she wasn’t a girl at all. Logically, you knew there was no point. But you didn’t have to be logical, not while you were carrying a baby.

Even though Andy was annoyingly smug about the whole thing, you were excited. You finally got to take a look at the closet and discovered yesterday was not his first time buying clothing. You wanted to be mad at him but he had the softest look on his face. This was everything he wanted and you liked that you were able to provide it for him.

At 5 months, he absolutely needed to feel her kick. If he wasn’t fucking you or feeding you, or shopping, or at work, his hands were on your stomach. One of his favorite things, when you got out of the shower, was covering you in lotion, something you were supposed to do to prevent stretch marks, not that either of you much cared. During that time, he would speak to her, try to get her to give him any kind of movement. Or sometimes, you would wake up and he was just level with your stomach, whispering things to her.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d felt what you presumed were “flutters” and maybe one good kick a couple of nights ago, but you weren’t certain. You sort of enjoyed that she didn’t just give in to his murmurings of “come on, baby, give daddy a kick”, or “if you kick, I’ll never tell you no”. That line was dropped from rotation after you pointed out you would be holding him to that when she wanted to start dating.

She seemed to like his voice, you could admit. Sometimes it wasn’t him that woke you up, it was her responding to him. They weren’t fast movements, they weren’t particularly forceful either, but they were there. You didn’t understand how he’d yet to feel anything. And since you were still telling him you hadn’t really felt anything, he brought it up at the next appointment. The look of pure horror on his face when the doctor told him the likelihood of fathers never feeling any movement was sad, in a funny way. Kind of. Being pregnant had made you a little meaner.

He was pouting about it all night but you told him you were sure he would feel something. You told him you wouldn’t have her until she kicked for him. He knew you couldn’t control that, obviously, but it made him feel better.

At 5 months and 2 weeks, it happened. You were failing at staying awake and trying to read a book when you felt an abrupt tap. You startled awake, discovering the book on the floor. That had to be it, you just dropped it on yourself. But then it happened again, a bit harder and a tad painful.

“Andy!”

He bolted to your side in a matter of seconds. Seriously, he had to have broken world records with that trick. “What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed his hands, pulling his arms over the back of the couch, and placed them over your stomach.

“Are you okay? Do we need to go—?”

“Shut up,” you ordered.

After a couple of minutes, he sighed. “You felt an actual kick?”

“Sorry, she tends to move more when I’m so still.”

He moved around the couch and sat on the floor. “It’s going to happen. I’m not going to feel her.”

“No,” you argued. “Are you working?”

“No, just scaring myself with more books.”

You held your hand out to him and he helped you up. You crouched down to pick up your dropped book and handed it off to him. “Read it, she seems to like your voice... I’ll fall asleep, see if that works.”

You were settled in bed next to Andy, his one hand pressed to the side of your belly as he read the book aloud. You were trying to keep still but also trying to stay awake, you wanted to see his face when he felt it. That was out of the question, Andy’s voice was like honey, or a fall morning, or the feeling of being home after a long day. You were out after a few paragraphs.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure why. You saw Andy hovering over you fully with wet eyes and the softest smile you had ever seen. “Baby?”

“I felt her.”

You scoffed. “I told you that you would.”

He kissed all over your stomach, lingering each time. “Maybe she finally knows I’m her daddy.”

“She always knew.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Truth?” He glanced up at you and you explained, “I’ve been feeling her for a while now. That’s why I knew she liked your voice... I have some bad news, Andy. It seems like she already knows you’re wrapped around her finger and she is going to enjoy making you jump through hoops.”

“Just like her mom.”

You smirked. “Guess so.” You reached out to touch his face. “What are you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Every morning, I wake up and I’m so sure that my life couldn’t get any better but every day, it does. I didn’t know it was possible to love as much as I love you and as much as I love her.”

You turned to mush instantly.

“I didn’t have this growing up, you know. I didn’t have a dad but I’m going to do it right. I’m not going to be like him. I don’t understand how he could just walk away from his child, I would never do that. I could never do that. Or from you, my beautiful wife. For a long time, while we were trying, I just hated him so much. More than usual. I hated that we had to try so hard and that he was given a family that he just tossed away.”

“Well, he was an idiot. You are truly the best man I will ever know, possibly the best man that there is. And you’re going to be the best father, too... Okay, maybe second best after Ryan Reynolds, but still pretty high up there.”

He scoffed.

Feeling her kick was another addition to his day. Lips and fingers brought you to orgasm before taking you to the shower where he carefully wrapped his arms around your shoulders and fucked you from behind. He would dry you off, lay you out on the bed, and cover you in lotion and pay a lot of attention to your feet. His hands all over your body never failed to make you want him, but he had to go to work. You both knew if you started, he was going to end up being late. After breakfast, he would say goodbye to you, then he would lean down and ask his little girl for any kind of movement. She’d began to indulge him at least twice a day, when he was leaving and when he would say goodnight.

He’d always let you sleep in on Saturdays and even stayed with you for a great deal of it. Mostly because he knew you could sense when he wasn’t in bed and that would wake you. But with time, you were becoming less tired. Not entirely, you still were out like the dead at 9 every night, but sometimes you woke up actually feeling rested.

Saturdays were what he intended them to be. This particular Saturday had him wrapped around you, hands flat to your stomach, chin atop your head. You had another fantastic dream, one where you weren’t pregnant.

You loved your baby and you loved that you were able to carry her but you missed how hard he fucked you sometimes. You just couldn’t wait until he could pull your hair, choke you, spank you, tie you up, all of the things he loved to do to you. More importantly, you couldn’t wait until he was on top of you, pinning you down and leaving bruises.

Those dreams were why you woke up wet more often than not. Why you never hesitated to take his hand and slide it lower but you didn’t need that today, you just needed him. For you, he’d adapted to sleeping without clothes. It was easier that way and he’d never complain about you doing the same. Besides, the heat was getting the best of you the bigger you got.

You reached back with your heel, tapping his shin several times. “Andy?”

He hummed.

“It’s Saturday. Wake up.”

He scoffed, eyes still closed. “Yeah, it’s Saturday. Sleep in.”

“Fuck me,” you whined.

“I wish I could say that wasn’t enough to get me hard.”

“You were already hard,” you assured. You could feel him against your hip.

He grabbed your thigh and draped it over him. “You know, my love, when you’re not carrying our baby, I am going to have a lot of fun making you wait for it. I am indulging you now simply because you are giving me the greatest gift anyone could. But when I can tie you up, when I can fuck you, that is what I’m looking forward to.”

You moaned as he unhurriedly slipped inside you. “I miss your hands around my neck, that’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“So, I suspect you’ll continue being a brat long past your due date.”

“Yes, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” you taunted.

“Not right now, just you wait. You’ve been bad ever since you told me you were pregnant. Laying on the couch, naked. I know you had been touching yourself. I’ve been keeping track and your ass is probably going to be getting spanked up until you’re pregnant again.”

You snorted, turning your head back slightly. “Oh, and is that going to be immediately after?”

He kissed along your jaw. “Up to you.”

“You want another girl?”

“Yeah,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You scoffed.

“But I wouldn’t be let down by a boy,” he promised. He started delicately rolling his hips, one hand coming to your center to rub your clit.

Watching you fall apart like this was something else. Andy found you utterly beautiful, your cheeks would flush, your eyes would fill with such desperation for him that made him feel wanted. The moans that spilled from your mouth were sometimes animalistic, inspired only by how much you needed him to give you what only he could.

Now that you were pregnant, he could cover you in his cum. He always loved doing that, an interesting discovery he’d made very early in your relationship. After you decided you wanted to try for a baby, he would often come inside you and tell you to leave it there, which was pleasing as well. But this. This was simplistic, classic beauty.

He pulled out, fingers filling you instead. Your hips moved frantically, seeking the pressure of his palm against your clit. Angling your head back, his lips hungrily met yours. You reached down and took him in your hand, he turned his head slightly to hiss a curse.

Once he looked at you again, you pretended all you wanted was an innocent kiss. Something you kept up until he was just about to come, and then you bit down hard on his bottom lip. He had no idea how to retaliate and seeing the frustration play out on his face was almost as satisfying as your finish.

You laid next to him patiently as he came down, anticipating his reaction. It was always funnier when he had time to dwell on the situation. For several more weeks, you had complete permission to be as bratty as you wanted. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t been taking advantage of that more.

He turned his head to you and you smirked. “That’s going on top of the list. You will regret that.”

“The look on your face was so worth it.”

“Teasing is also going on the list,” he warned.

The day your water broke was just a normal day. Of course, not your due date. No, this baby had been torturing you since the very start, why stop now? You expected it was just something in the Barber blood. Strong-willed, complicated, and the tendency to be a complete pain in the ass.

Regardless, your husband was at work. If everything went well for him today, there was one last case that he was going to tie up, and then he was yours and hers until he was ready to go back. You figured that wouldn’t be for a long while and that was exciting.

You would think that this would have been too much by now. You guys didn’t really have your friends, or regular company that you kept. No one had been in your home, save for Lynn who you insisted he invite over so she could see the nursery in person.

She’d also given you a gift and you wanted to receive it from her in person. You knew there was a special friendship she had with Andy. A woman in a position of power, you figured she didn’t have time for many. And Andy wasn’t a typical friend, a low-maintenance guy who was kind and smart. They just went together well, and you wanted to encourage him to let her in at least a little.

He answered your call on the first ring because he’d been glued to his phone for these past three months every time that he had to leave the house. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Are you busy?” you worked to keep your voice level. No need to rile him up before he could get home.

“No, not really. I just stepped out of a meeting with Lynn. We were talking about the last case she thought of giving me. She’s wondering if three days is—”

“She should give it to someone else.” You had taken to rubbing your stomach, mentally pleading with your baby. Please, baby, just wait for your daddy. I’ll never hear the end of this if he doesn’t see it.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m fine…but my water broke—”

“What?!” he yelled. You distantly heard him yelling then, “Lynn, I gotta go! My baby is on the way and she was a bit of a jerk at the start, wouldn’t kick for me. I think she’s missing all those times she killed my soul and I’m terrified she’s going to show up before I make it.”

You could only imagine the look on Lynn’s face. Or the look on his face. A cross between terrified and thrilled, he probably looked like a serial killer.

“Can you wait for me to get home?”

“Did you just call our daughter a jerk?”

He huffed. “Baby.”

“I think so. I haven’t started having any contra—nope! No, there it is.”

He talked you to through breathing until it subsided. “Okay, listen, this is very important. I’m across town right now and there’s going to be some traffic at this hour—”

“Please don’t drive crazy.”

“I won’t, I promise. But first, I need you to get the timer…where are you?”

“On the couch.”

“Great, get the timer under the table.”

“There isn’t a timer under the table.”

“There is, I taped it there.”

“For what?” you pressed.

“This, obviously.”

“But why would you tape it?”

“There are about twenty timers all over the house, hidden so you couldn’t find them and move then.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward slowly to search under the top of the table for the timer. Yup, he was being serious.

“Okay, just keep track of them. And now, the second thing, I need you to promise me something. The neighbors, if you need them to drive you, they will.”

“What?”

“I’ve been creating these backup plans ever since you told me you were pregnant.”

“Oh, come on,” you complained. “I thought you were being nice to them because you liked them.”

“I mean, it’s not as if anyone in our neighborhood would ever say no to taking you. I just had to make sure that they were good drivers.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You had hoped that having a child was making him see the importance of social ties. These people lived by you, they were all having kids, most of them would probably end up in the same school.

“Honey?”

“I thought you wanted them to be our married friends. She just had her baby 8 months ago—”

He snorted. “Yeah, in addition to that other one.”

“Are you talking about Charles?”

“I know he’s 5, but he’s evil—”

“Andy!”

“Baby, listen. I’m getting in the car now. If you need to get to the hospital before I make it there, go left first. If they are not home, then go to the right. Left then right. Left first, right is the second resort.”

“You dragged the Johnsons into this, too?”

“Dragged ‘em all in, baby. Gotta go, stay calm and don’t move unless you need to. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You hung up and laid back against the couch. It felt like all there was to do was wait for your next contraction, something you did not enjoy the first time. They were just going to get worse, you needed your husband here.

You heard Andy pull up a little over half an hour later. He charged into the house like a maniac, showing up at your side, hands immediately going to your stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had a couple of contractions,” you reported. “They don’t last long and they’re pretty far apart.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He helped you off the couch, bringing the timer along with him. He let you control the pace to the car. You’d gotten bigger than you thought you would and walking three steps was nearly a minute-long ordeal.

Halfway there, you noticed the bag over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a bag in the car?”

“I packed the car bags sometime last week. Who knows what state of mind I was in? I can’t trust my competence.”

“Are you implying that there has been a moment during these 40 weeks that you haven’t been out of your mind?”

“I’m going to pay for this neighbors bit, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you promised.

Labor wasn’t a long process. Painless as many women had told you it was? Fuck no. It hurt, a lot. But Andy was there and he was all you needed. He talked you through the breathing, he never stopped touching you, your arms, your face, your stomach. He liked to make plans when neither of those things worked. He reminded you about all the great things you guys would get to do with children, and it was enough to get you through it.

You thought you knew what love looked like, because you loved Andy so much. But when he saw your baby for the first time after she’d been set in his arms, he looked at her in such an intense, breath-taking way.

Any uncertainty you might have been playing with in your mind was gone in that second. You’d gotten a bit paranoid over time. Wondering if you guys were just going to have the same marriage as everyone else. Like, you started in love and ended with affairs and really hurtful words. But you knew then that this was not a normal family. This was true, unconditional love.

#andy barber x reader #still writing i swear #another coming up soon #my writing

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morganlegaye · 5 years ago

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6 weeks.

I think the worst part of it is that before, when someone said they miscarried this early, you think... well it can’t be that bad. It’s so early. They were barely pregnant. After all, abortion pills are available up to 10 weeks and if I don’t consider that the death of a child, why am I mourning this fetus? What makes this one more special than any other?

Maybe it isn’t special. Maybe we just got caught up in the idea of it. Of what it was going to turn into, of who it might become. It was planned, after all. Planned down to the fucking minute detail because we’re gay and these things can’t just happen. We have to travel halfway across the country for our sperm, for our known donor, just so my children might look a little like me. Actually be blood-related to me. But it’s so expensive because planning ovulation isn’t exactly something you can do too far ahead of time. We need last-minute flights and time off work and it didn’t even work the first time, you know? But it worked this time. It worked this time and it felt meant to be for other reasons I won’t get into, but trust me, it was like everything lined up.

Except I guess it didn’t.

Even when my wife was spotting pink, I didn’t think she was miscarrying. People sometimes bleed in the first trimester, and it was pink, not bright red. They’ll bleed for all sorts of reasons that don’t necessarily mean the embryo isn’t viable, so I tried not to think the worst, because I would rather be optimistic.

That was stupid.

We had an ultrasound and we saw the sac, but we couldn’t see anything inside of it. The doctor said it could just be because it was a little early, and I held onto that. I did my stupid Google research and found out that women with tilted uteruses like my wife’s made it difficult to see anything during the first 8 weeks, and so I found another thing to hold on to. But then her HCG levels came back, and they were only 3000. They should have been upwards of 40,000, and finally there was no other way for me to spin this in my head to be optimistic.

I didn’t have a child on the way anymore.

And it’s not like I felt like a mother, not really. I wasn’t the one carrying the child, but there was a point where I actively began to think of my life in terms of “when the baby is here” or I have to do this “because I’ll be a mom soon”. I think that’s the most like a mom I could have felt like with having my world changed for only three weeks, but it was enough. It was enough to feel like when this pregnancy ended, I lost a part of myself.

Every morning I would get up and kiss my wife’s belly. I would ask her what the baby wanted to eat. I would look at my pregnancy apps and read the books and now all I want to do is throw them out. I uninstalled everything, got off all the mailing lists, had to figure out how to make facebook stop giving me baby ads every five fucking seconds, because the constant reminder was making it worse. I had to throw out all the positive pregnancy tests where we tracked the line progression by DPO. I had delete all the pictures and videos pertaining to the pregnancy. I had all of my wife’s upcoming appointments in my calendar, and when it would be the second trimester, the third, her due date, even the weekend we would probably do the gender reveal.

We’re not giving up, but I think the worst part of all of this is that it’s going to absolutely ruin pregnancy for us. Next time, we won’t be as excited. We won’t want to look at the apps and find out what’s new with the development with the baby. We won’t want to read anything to prepare until we’re sure we’re far enough along. We won’t want to tell anyone. I doubt we’ll do cute reveal to our parents again, because there’s no way we’ll pull off a surprise like this for a second time. I’m going to be afraid of getting attached, and refuse to love something I might lose.

I still haven’t cried. I’m not much of a cryer anyway, but I guess part of me feels like I need to be relatively okay while my wife goes through this. She’s the one that’s bleeding out the remnants of our child, after all. That’s fucking traumatic, so who cares how I feel next to that?

I’ve gotten angry though. I know that’s not a healthy way to deal with anything, but I’m just so fucking angry. I don’t think it’s fair. We have to go through so much and spend so much money to get my wife pregnant, and there are other people out there that just are like HAHA WHOOPS. And I hate them. I fucking hate them.

I also hate that this is the only way I can express my feelings, or say what’s happening: under a cut on a social media website that most of the people who know me in real life don’t use. God forbid I make anyone uncomfortable with my sadness. God forbid we talk about the thing even though it’s apparently more common than we’d like to believe. It's just that no one talks about it.

If you know me on another platform, mostly Facebook and Twitter, do not mention this. I’m keeping this in this little corner of the internet.

Burying it, just like I’m supposed to, I guess.

#personal #tw: miscarriage

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ladywithoutababy · 5 years ago

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Monthly Failure!

If you google “early signs of pregnancy” you’ll find a list like this one (emphasis mine):

You may experience implantation bleeding, or light spotting or bleeding, about 10 to 14 days after conception. Implantation bleeding usually occurs about a week before your expected period. The bleeding will be a lot lighter than your usual period. It will stop after one to three days.

Tender breasts. Breasts are often the first body part to get the message when sperm meets egg. Some women’s breasts may feel tingly, sore, full and even painful to the touch within days of conception as estrogen levels start to rise. That said, these changes may not feel a whole lot different from PMS breasts — the changes simply stick around after your missed period.

Fatigue. With all that work that goes into baby-making, plus higher levels of pregnancy hormones, the first four months of pregnancy can leave you feeling sluggish and sleepy. Keep in mind, though, a case of the sleepies can also mean you’re PMS-ing, over-stressed or not getting enough sleep.

Sensitivity to smell. Some newly pregnant women report a heightened sense of smell early on due to increased levels of estrogen. Once again, however, a keener-than-usual nose could also be a side effect of PMS.

Bloating. As all women know, bloating is one of the least-loved PMS symptoms — but it can also be a sign of increased pregnancy-induced progesterone that slows down your digestive tract, trapping gas inside your intestines.

This sums up a real mindfuck you might not be aware of if you’re not trying to have a baby: any symptom that could be an early sign if you’re pregnant could also be literally nothing. So here’s what a typical month looks like; in other words, what every month for the last 3 years (oh boy) has looked like for me.

Your period ends. All bad feelings disappear: it’s a new month! A whole new world! Who knows what you did wrong last month or why the planets weren’t aligned for you to have a baby. This could be - hell, probably is! - the one where everything will work. You resolve to try your best and remain optimistic (because everyone says that stress and negativity will hurt your ability to conceive, so don’t mess this up with your feelings, you stupid idiot!).

You have about a week of normal human life. You don’t have to worry about any of this stuff, because any sex you have during this week can’t lead to anything. You’re relaxed, you’re having fun, you’re being nice to your husband (not to mention extremely generous to any pregnant people you come across, because you’re all in this together), and you have a little twinkle in your eye because you have a good feeling about this month.

Then, you have a week of peak fertility, so you make a concerted effort to have as much sex during this week as possible. (Technically, it’s best to have sex right before you’re ovulating, but you can get pregnant in the 3-5 days leading up to ovulation too.) You try your best to keep it fun and carefree, but let’s be real: the sex happening is much more important than it being the best sex ever. On top of remaining optimistic and positive for the (imaginary) baby, you also need to make sure that you’re not treating your husband like a bull whose only purpose is to inseminate cattle. Sometimes this works out ok and sometimes it doesn’t.

That week ends, thankfully, and you can go back to a normal relationship (and normal relations) with your husband. What doesn’t end, though, is the emotional rollercoaster. OH NO, you absolute moron, that is just beginning. Because now you’ve got two weeks to sit around and wonder if you could be pregnant. You also wonder if you should lay off the wine (but jesus christ, can a girl not have some wine? Don’t forget she’s also working a full time job! Not everyone gets to focus 100% on being an optimal baby machine!). [You’ve heard mixed answers from doctors and various baby professionals: some say you absolutely shouldn’t have a drop of alcohol, and some say it doesn’t matter at all and that in fact lots of people get drunkenly pregnant on cruise ships. Cool. Helpful. Maybe you should book a cruise.]

As your expected period approaches (worth noting: it’s normally extremely regular, right on time at 28 days, just as god intended, and that pleases the fertility doctors), you try not to obsess but can’t help obsessing a little. Everything could change in a few days. You could be devastated again OR you could be, oh my god, having a baby! This could be it! It might be the case that all the other months were just a fluke and that everything actually IS totally okay and that you have earned and deserve a baby! You might be a normal person!

You start feeling all or some or none of the above symptoms. You try not to google “early signs of pregnancy before missed period”, which you’ve googled many, many times before. You always fail to not google this. You start to get suspicious: am I normally this tired at this time of the month? Have my boobs ever been sore like this on this specific day of my cycle? Was that spotting, or just some random inexplicable bleeding? Maybe that wasn’t implantation bleeding and I’m dying? (Being a lady is really fun.)

Some months, you tell your husband you’re having these symptoms, because they really feel different than any time before. He gets super excited and is “confident” that this is the one. Most months that you have a weird feeling there might be something going on, you don’t mention anything to him for this exact reason. This is extremely isolating! You feel crazy. There is no right answer, and anyone who you tell you think you might be pregnant will know you are crazy and possibly never speak to you again. Sometimes you ask your friends who’ve been pregnant how and when they knew they were pregnant. Usually their answers are unhelpful, like, “I just knew.” Sometimes their answers are “holy shit I had the exact same symptoms you’re having at the exact same time and then 9 months later I had this beautiful little miracle!” You start imagining more symptoms. Am I nauseous? Would I even be nauseous this early in a pregnancy? Maybe it’s all the wine I had earlier?

Usually, your period comes on time despite your feeling that something is different. Sometimes though, it’s a day or two days or even four days late. You’ve learned not to get excited about this either. Every single time you’ve ever taken a pregnancy test in your life, it’s been negative. [An even bigger mindfuck? A friend of mine recently took a pregnancy test that was negative, and when she still didn’t have her period a week later, took another one and that one was positive. Yeah, sometimes they’re just wrong!!!!! So fun!!!!]

So now you’ve learned to just wait it out (even though the alternative is constantly wondering if your period is going to pop up out of nowhere and embarrass you in public). But yeah: the cramps always eventually show up. The disappointment on your poor, tortured, helpless husband’s face always flickers before he puts on a brave (and terrified) smile so you won’t start crying. Usually you start crying anyway (especially if you’ve just been through a round of fertility treatment where everyone told you they had a “good feeling” about this one). And then, after crying for a while, you go to work or to brunch or to the movies or on a trip because this is your life, and life goes on.

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whiskynottea · 6 years ago

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An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40

AO3

@theministerskat, as always, thank you for the beta, love! ❤️

Chapter 41. An Emergency

Stars sparkling against a black sky, a crescent moon rising on the horizon. Jamie’s breaths in sync with mine. His heartbeat steady under the palm of my hand. Everything was perfect.

Well, almost everything. The chill of a Scottish summer night was not ideal. As time passed, it started creeping into my body, making me shiver, even though I had glued my body against Jamie’s.

“Are ye cold, Sassenach?” he murmured in a hushed tone that made me think he was on the verge of sleep.

“Mmm,” I replied in similar style, trying to shimmy closer to him.

Jamie rose on an elbow, his eyes searching the ground around us. We had heard voices from the path some time before, and we had both sighed in relief for the perfect timing when we saw a group of four or maybe five bachelor students sitting on the grass at a distance from us.

Five minutes earlier, and they would certainly have heard our moans.

Jamie groped for his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Come here,” he said, and I snuggled beside him once more, much warmer now. He took a deep breath and placed a kiss on top of my curls. “I dinna want this night to end.”

“Me neither,” I whispered, breathing in his musky scent mingled with the spices of his cologne.

Time didn’t consider our requests though. As the moon moved above our heads, the wheels in my brain started turning again.

And my thoughts ran wild.

I thought about the prom, seeing him in a kilt for the first time, his silly jealousness during dinner and the way he held me tight when I told him that he was everything I needed. Our synchronized moves as we danced, and his husky voice when he told me to steal away together. How we ended up making love under the stars.

How amazing that was. And how different, to feel nothing between him and me, having sex without a condom.

Having sex without contraception.

When was my last period?

What if I was late for my next one?

What would happen if I hadn’t ovulated when I thought I had?

How I could be so stupid and risk everything for one night’s worth of a good time.

Eventually, unable to contain my thoughts and feelings within, I sat up with a loud sigh, hiding my face in my hands.

“Sassenach?” Jamie let out a confused mumble. I felt him sitting up, his arm instantaneously coming around my shoulders. “Mo chridhe?” he prompted again, seeing that he had gotten no response with his first attempt.

“We’re so stupid,” I murmured, my voice muffled.

“What?”

I ran my nails against my scalp, not knowing what to do with myself. I was angry. Angry for the absurdity of not having a place we could go, for my stress during the exams that might have changed my cycle, for not always having a condom in my purse. Angry at him, but most of all, I was angry at myself. Angry at my recklessness.

Damn. How did I do this?

“Claire.” His voice was authoritative now, and he turned my face towards him with two fingers on my chin, searching my eyes for the reason of my distress.

How can he be so ignorant?

“What?” I asked, and heard my voice shaking as I did so.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do I need to explain everything?” I huffed, exasperated, and heard him snort.

“Yes, ye do. Apparently, I’m not smart enough to figure what the hell got into ye.”

“We had sex without protection,” I finally explained, talking sharply with my arms open, if I was acting at an ancient tragedy.

“Oh,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. His brow furrowed, and I saw him biting his bottom lip, hard. “I thought ye said twas safe.”

Oh, well done, James Fraser. Let’s say this is all my fault. It’s easier that way, I suppose.

I said nothing, and after a few short breaths I pulled away from him.

“Claire,” he said again. “I ken it wasn’t the wisest thing to do – ”

“Most probably the stupidest.” I set my jaw, looking into the distance, trying to calm down.

“Aye, most probably. But ye said tis not your fertile days, and I didn’t come – ”

“You know what people are called who use that type of birth control? Parents!” I said, mocking him with distaste in my voice.

Jamie let out a loud sigh and turned his body away, mimicking my posture to avoid looking at me. We sat like that for a while, the boisterous thoughts in our heads swallowing the city’s noise. I could feel his body rigid, his breaths as strained as mine.

I was rubbing my face with my hands – makeup be damned – when I felt the back of his index finger timidly trailing a path on my arm.

“Babe,” he pleaded, and my heart clenched in response. “Can we talk about it? Can we deal with this together?”

I turned to look at him, grateful for the darkness because my tears threatened to get the better of me.

“I’m terrified.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could think of something better to say.

“I ken. D’ye want to come here?” He opened his arms wide, and smiled shyly, waiting for me.

I nodded and moved into his open arms. The warmth that enveloped my body had nothing to do with the chill on Calton Hill. It was coming the from inside, from the conviction that whatever was to come for us, we would be together. From Jamie’s unending belief in me. In us.

“What do you want us to do? What are our options?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Apart from always having condoms with us,” I started, and he made one of his throaty sounds in response. “Apart from that, there is only one thing I can think of.”

“Which is?” he asked, and I felt him frowning. “Christ lass, do I need to ask for every little thing before you decide to honor me with yer thoughts?”

I laughed at that and turned to place a soft kiss on his neck. “The morning after pill.” I felt his frown getting deeper. “Emergency contraception,” I added, trying to make him understand.

“Do we have to wait until tomorrow morning?” he asked, making me laugh again.

How can he do this? I was feeling desperate just a few minutes ago.

“No, you oaf! I think the sooner I take it, the better. Let me google it.”

I snatched my phone from my purse, ignored Jenny’s and Joe’s texts and searched for more information about the pill.

“It can be taken up to seventy-two hours after sex,” I murmured, “But yes. It’s more effective the sooner it’s taken. We have to go to a local pharmacy. And it’s free,” I finished and turned to look at Jamie.

“Do ye want to go tomorrow morning? We can go together.”

“Jamie…” I looked at him under my eyelashes. “Can’t we just go now?”

Jamie smiled and pulled me to him. “Aye, of course we can go now. There is a 24-hour pharmacy close to the medical center,” he said, kissing my forehead with a reverence and a sense of protection that would make my knees wobble if I wasn’t sitting already.

He stood up, and offered his hand to help me up too. I wore his jacket and we walked down the hill, his arm around my shoulders, mine on his waist.

“Jamie,” I said while we were still enfolded in the hill’s quietness, before the city’s lights fell on us. “I’m sorry?”

“Was that a question?” he chuckled, and I pinched him for teasing me.

“I freaked out,” I said with a pout. “Before.”

“Aye, I ken. I would freak out too, if ye hadna gone ballistic yerself.”

“Ballistic?” I asked, incredulous, and pinched his side again in revenge.

“Yer always my crazy curly wig,” he said, and pulled me closer for a kiss. “No matter how hard ye try to conceal it under a stylish bun.”

“Why, thank you,” I laughed. “Bun-istic. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Mmhm,” he smiled, and we walked towards New Town, to find the pharmacy and the security that our future would be as we planned.

It took us about fifteen minutes to arrive at the pharmacy. The lady behind the counter gave us the pill and glanced at our clothes with a knowing smile. We ignored her slightly raised eyebrow, nodded repeatedly our assent when she told us be careful next time, and left, as fast as we could. Five minutes later, I swallowed the tiny pill and gave Jamie a broad grin.

“Thank you,” I said, and meant it. He was the one that kept us sane, and I owed him that.

“I told ye I’ll always take care of ye. Especially when I’m the one to create yer problems.” He shrugged in the most charming way and I laughed. I kissed him then, softly at first, showing him that I was grateful to have him, and then harder, releasing all the tension I held inside.

“Claire,” he said, and increased the distance between us so he could look at me.. “I ken for now this is out of the question, but eventually… Ye do want bairns, don’t ye?”

I smiled and set both my hands on his kilted arse, pulling him closer again. “I think I do. I’ve never seriously considered it, but I do want to have a family. Eventually.”

Jamie mirrored my grin and took my lips in his.

“Hey,” I said when we broke our kiss. “What makes you think I’ll have that family with you?” I challenged him, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, dinna fash. I’ll take care of that myself.”

“Mmm, will you, now?”

“Now and forever,” he smiled slyly and kissed me again. A promise, for the future we could only imagine.

I almost got lost in his scent, in his kiss, in the way his body heated mine, making his jacket unnecessary.

“For now, though,” I said, and resisted his lips that tried to hush me again. I was determined to make my point. “We need to always have condoms with us,” I continued, pursing my lips in thought. “In my purse and in your wallet. Just to make sure.”

“Aye,” Jamie chuckled. “Maybe bury some on Calton Hill, too. Just in case.”

“I’m not kidding! I’m not going through all this again!”

“Aye, mo chridhe. We’ll have condoms, always,” he agreed, but I felt that he had more to say. “But, Claire…” he started, then trailed off.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, pretending it didn’t matter, but he didn’t meet my eyes.

“What?” I insisted.

“Ye didna feel it?” he asked, somehow shy. Seeing my questioning look, he continued. “Twasna different for ye, without the condom?” he asked, running his fingers through is hair.

“Oh, that.” I smiled, remembering that this was one of the first things I thought on Calton Hill. “Yes, it was. Different. Better.”

“Aye,” he beamed. “Much better. The way I felt ye… Christ,” he shook his head again, this time smiling, his bottom lip captured between his teeth to restrain himself from sharing more.

“So, when we’ll have a place of our own,” I said cheekily, “I’ll get on the pill. Or have an IUD.”

“IU what?” he asked, perplexed.

“It’s a tiny device that gets into the uterus and prevents the sperm from reaching the egg. Lasts for five to ten years,” I winked at him and chuckled, seeing his wide, surprised eyes. “Impressed, are you?”

“Oh aye, I am.” He licked his lips, thinking. “Maybe we can decide on one of these sooner? Even before Oxford?”

“Impatient, are you?” I laughed, but he cut me short with a kiss.

“I am,” he said, in his most serious voice.

“Okay, then. Which one do you prefer?” I asked, seeing him frown in thought.

“Which one is the best for ye? Will they harm ye?” he asked, his face suddenly clouded.

I kept silent, thinking. “Each one has its advantages and disadvantages, I suppose,” I said at last. “The pill has hormones; the IUD can be either copper or hormonal.”

“I have no idea what ye’re talking about, Sassenach.” I felt his fingers drumming on my back and I hardly hid my smile.

“I’m thinking the copper IUD would be better. I’d rather not take hormones. Plus, it’s fitted once, and we’re done. The pill on the other hand, has to be taken every single day.”

“It surely won’t hurt you? It’s going to be in yer body for five or ten years?” Jamie’s excitement for replacing condoms with other types of birth control was slowly turning to concern and worry.

“It’s safe, Jamie,” I whispered reassuringly and pulled his head towards me, until his forehead touched mine.

“We can ask a doctor. To be sure,” he whispered.

“I’ll call to arrange an appointment.”

“And if in the meantime we decide differently?” he asked. “Ten years is a long time.”

“I can get it removed,” I said, feeling my heart melting at the thought that Jamie already imagined having a family with me. “But we have time.”

“Aye,” he said, cupping my face and kissing my forehead, my cheekbones, my nose. “All the time in the world.”

He kissed my lips then, and I kissed him back, picturing the two of us, growing old together.

Chapter 42

#thermodynamics #The first law of thermodynamics #high school au #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction

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lulsbelocur1978-blog · 6 years ago

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"I like to talk with you," he remarked. "You are not indifferently schooled. You've read the books, and your economic interpretation of history, as you choose to call it" (this with a sneer), "eminently fits you for an intellectual outlook on life. I would rather everyone gave birth to the fetus, barring medical emergencies for fetus and mother, yadda yadda, the usual exceptions. But, recognizing that everyone has the right to control what happens with their own bodies, I consistently vote for laws that reflect pro choice ideals. I want babies to live, have a shot at life, etc but I know I don get to decide that for everyone. Dust free drying is not a problem, but because lacquer dries so fast sometimes almost instantly it is very difficult to work with. Brushing lacquers are not recommended for amateur use; spraying lacquers must be applied with a motorized spray gun. Lacquer fumes can be both toxic and explosive. The strawberry smells just like strawberry jam, 구리출장안마 though if you prefer a lemony one there's the regular black sugar one too.And for clay (non Honey), Innisfree has their volcanic wash off mask line. The mousse one is very smooth though my friends swear the non mousse clay ones are stronger. If you're not in Asia and looking for non AB, Lush has some wash off masks but the price is really jacked up in Korea. I get lucky with a couple good raids, get another ptera (level 209 thanks to some quick dodo farm kibble). Good loot from raiding, upgrade to c4 and then really good loot from raids. Some bastard slaughtered my dodo farm (even tho I had a sign saying free range eggs help yourself, common). Ugh that's so accurate. I unfortunately spent a lot of time around violent white supremacists as a teenager (meth is a hell of a drug, especially at 17), and I see disturbingly similar logic in the sub those hatemongerers used to peddle 15 years ago. I know it sounds very dramatic to say so, but so much of the rhetoric used is unbelievably similar to gang recruitment tactics. Probably mining parts of the cave. Then they hit a nest of Shaelmaar who have made a mess of the place. They make more tunnels and enemies to fight. But why do you care enough for it to vex you? That what I don get. Someone wanted an answer. Someone was willing to provide it, by not saying "why don you google it you lazy" or condescendingly commenting with only "[wikipedia quote]". So the longest lasting lipstick I ever tried is the new Maybelline Super Stay Matte Ink. My goodness, I put it on for work, and eight hours, lunch, and a lot of drinking and talking later, it looked just fine. I do find that the formula stays a bit sticky, and starts getting shinier and more film like towards the 8 9 hours mark. However, in Spain, the most important and best loved tradition among children is Los Tres Reyes Magos, the day of the Three Wise Men. The Three Wise Men were the Biblical rulers who followed the star of Bethlehem to the birthplace of Jesus. The kings brought with them gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. If I 구리출장안마 hadn gotten a BFP within the first six months, I might turn to FF or something else.Symptom spotting: Nothing really. My nipples became super sensitive the weekend before I tested positive. More so than they usually would during ovulation. Then I found this post on FutureDerm that totally blew my mind about setting a schedule for building tolerance to retinoids (see sources for link). So I mapped out my schedule for all 24 weeks and promised myself I would be patient. I went without actives for over a month, then took another crack at one night with lower strength Tazorac, my drug of choice.

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singingunderthecurtain · 7 years ago

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Tear You Apart (Chanyeol Oneshot Smut)

Picture not mine, found everything on Google

Author: @julietsoddeye AU: Canon/EXO Universe Genre: Smut | Angst Pairing: Chanyeol x Hyoeun (OC) Trigger Warning: Strong Language, Slapping, Rough Sex, Hair Pulling, Daddy Kink, Choking Word Count: 7,020

Plot: Hyoeun and Chanyeol have known and hated each other for four years. All they ever do is bicker and fight like children and their friends are almost getting tired of it. During EXO's most anticipated Halloween Party, Hyoeun accidentally went into Chanyeol's room as she was looking for a bathroom to use.

A/N: Hi, hi, hi, hi again lmfao. I am back with another oneshot smut lmfaoooooo. Obviously, this fic is inspired by the song "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge. This has nothing to do with Vampires or American Horror Story, this song is really old and I loved it the first time I heard it years and years ago!!!

He is attractive, I admit that part. But damn that boy is annoying as hell. A grown-ass man who cannot stay put for even just a second, who the fuck does that? I don’t get why people love him so much if only the fans knew how he is in real life.

He’s sleazy, he’s playful and not in a good way. He’s rude and just all around irritating. In short, he is a fuck boy. Wait no, no. He is the fuck boy. I guess he was well trained in acting because all of his fans adored him. He would act cute, innocent and all that shit, but behind all those acts, hides a trashy excuse for a person.

Every time I see him, even just a strand of his hair, ruins my day. I don’t understand why Iseul keeps asking him to hang out, and he keeps coming back to hang out even though all we ever do whenever we see each other is bicker.

Much to Chohee and Jongdae’s annoyance, it’s their call. I told them not to bring Chanyeol to any of our play dates, but Jongdae said Chanyeol and Baekhyun are the only people who are willing to come along. Iseul, on the other hand, enjoys it whenever she sees me and Chanyeol always on our throats about each other.

Jongdae was allowed to date Iseul, but EXO’s manager said that whenever they want to see each other in public, they have to have a company with them so that people wouldn’t suspect. You know so it would look like just a fun hangout time with friends, which to me sounds really ridiculous because their fans are not that stupid, but stupid enough not to know of Chanyeol’s real personality.

“Ugh, why does he have to go too?” I groaned, kicking Iseul’s thighs off my legs as I stood up to go to my room’s bathroom.

“Well… to be honest, Jongdae can go alone. But Baekhyun and Chanyeol wanted to come too.” Iseul explains.

“I’m going out if he’s going here; it’s okay if only Jongdae and Baekhyun show up, not him.” I refuse to say his name. Baekhyun was just as annoying, but since he’s nice to me, I can tolerate him. Chanyeol was never nice to me, not ever. Not even when we first met.

“It's fine Hyoeun, I can’t stop you. But where are you going?” Iseul asks as she spread around my bed. I got out my bathroom when I finished my business and grabbed my purse and stuffed my phone, keys, and wallet in it.

“I’m going to eat dinner alone, drink coffee at Starbucks and maybe do some late night grocery shopping. Do you need me to buy anything for you?” I said in one breath. Iseul stood up and we both exit my room.

“You know what I like, and buy a lot of it!” Iseul said and jumped up to give me a quick kiss on my cheek since I am way taller than her.

“Honey Butter Chips got it!” I clicked my tongue and gave her a quick wink. “I’m going grocery shopping, anything for you Chohee eonni?” I shout out to Chohee who was in the kitchen baking some cookies.

“Honey Butter Chips!!!” She excitedly shouts back! I can tell she’s smiling, by the sound of her voice.

---

Well shit. How convenient, just as I was about to call Chohee to ask if the visitors are still there, my phone suddenly want to act like a bitch and died on me. I swear to God, technology hates me.

“Well, you forgot to charge your phone, duh!” I whisper to myself as I was standing up from my seat.

It’s already 10 PM on a Friday night and Starbucks is closing for the night. I already did my mini grocery shopping a while ago. I have one bag full of honey butter chips and one bag full of random necessities of mine and around the house.

It’s relatively late and the EXO guys are probably on their way home. Thank God I don’t have to see him tonight, it was already an agony to be acquainted with him, and do I really need to suffer more with his presence? I deserve to be happy in life too.

I am aware of his pretty boyish face, his towering height, and his eyes that can melt you with just a stare. Also, his lips that look soft and kissable and his soft-looking hair that screams ‘run your fingers through me!’ whenever I see it…

“Oh God, stop your thoughts.” I cringed as I said those words to myself.

I need to stop thinking about him that way, his attitude is already enough to send me through the roof with hatred. But for some reason, I cannot deny that I am physically attracted to him.

Well, he’ll never know anyway unless I tell him, which I will never do, ever, not even on my deathbed. Not even if it’s the last thing that can save my life. Not even if it will cure me of whatever malady I will chalk up in the future when I get really old.

Never will he get the satisfaction of knowing how I sometimes think about him whenever my ovulation cycle comes around and I feel particularly horny for no reason at all.

Or how he is the main subject and object of every vivid as hell wet dreams I have night after night. He will never be gratified with the knowledge of my little crush and make fun of me with it for the rest of my life.

NEVER!!! EVER!!!

---

“Can you stop right there?” I said to the cab driver while pointing at where my stop is, in front of my apartment complex. He carefully turns the wheel to the right and stopped the vehicle exactly in front of the door of the building.

“Thank you,” I said as the ahjussi hand in my card back along with the receipt from the credit card machine. He gave me a polite smile and a single head bow to acknowledge my thanks.

I got out the car effortlessly, balancing the two eco bags I have on both hands. When I got to the elevator, I pushed level 5 and fished for my keys inside my bag.

I got in front of our door and I can hear the muffled sound of a movie playing inside. Maybe Chohee and Iseul are still up, it’s Friday night after all.

Our door has digital locks, but I still prefer the old-fashioned lock and keys. Also, I don’t want to let them know that I’m home, if I use the digital lock, it will make a loud beeping sound indicating that it was unlocked.

When I successfully unlocked the door with my keys silently, I turned the knob as gently as possible and pushed it open. The surround sound and the horror movie they were watching helped a lot and they didn’t even turn their heads when I got in.

They were all focused on the television while hugging their respective throw pillows in front of them, except for Iseul. Her head was buried in Jongdae’s chest and his arms are snaked protectively around her frame, as she hates horror movies.

Well she doesn’t really hate it, she just doesn’t like the jump scares because she gets startled easily. Convincing her to watch a horror movie tonight is beyond me.

I saw that there are only 4 people watching the movie. And I recognize that Chanyeol wasn’t one of them, maybe he didn’t go after all. I did a tiny celebratory dance and grinned with triumph.

Since the only source of light was the television, I slowly crept my way to my bedroom and I saw that the door was slightly ajar and the light was on. What, did I forget to turn off the lights? I was sure I did and even closed the door.

Maybe Iseul or Chohee went in to get something and forgot to turn it off, they always do that anyway. I pushed the door slightly and I was surprised by what I saw lying on my bed.

“What the fu—“ I whispered to myself but I stopped midway. What the hell is Chanyeol doing on my bed? Who the fuck allowed him to sleep on it?

I closed the door behind me silently and dropped all the things I was carrying on the floor to make a sound. It did make a tiny sound but he was still unmoving. I cleared my throat. Cleared it again two times after a few seconds, three times, four, and then five but nothing happened. He was still motionless and I can hear him snoring slightly.

“Seriously?” I voiced out this time. I’m determined to wake him up without touching him. I mean I would like to touch him but I hate him also, so that is not an option right now.

How dare he even enter my room without my permission? It was the only place that I can be free of his presence and there he is, ruining it again for me. I thought I wouldn’t see him tonight, but I was very wrong.

I walked near the bed where he is, dragging my feet in the process but since the floor was carpeted, it didn’t do much with the sound. I peered silently just to check him out a little bit. A little peep doesn’t hurt, right? Also, I’m thinking of maybe kicking or slapping him awake.

As I stare at him, the hotter my skin felt. It’s in the middle of autumn and it was pretty cold outside. The air condition in the house is room temperature.

But his closed eyes are so pretty with those thick lashes, his makeup-less skin is also pretty; it looks smooth and supple with only a couple imperfections. His nose compliments his face with proportions and his lips… Those plump and pink lips scream ‘Kiss Me!’.

I think my only problem with him physically was his ears, but damn even those are cute as fuck. He looks like a fucking hobbit. A huge Hobbit at that!!!

God fucking dammit, Park Chanyeol, you are very handsome! Are you even real? Are you even human? Fuck! What I would give just to kiss you right now.

“Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Chanyeol said with a huge taunting grin without opening his eyes.

“Holy shit!” I almost shat my pants with surprise when he suddenly spoke.

Just like those stupid dramas you see on the television, I lost my balance and I dove on top of him on my bed. I closed my eyes, prepared for the clash of our bodies together.

“Woah!” Chanyeol exclaimed as he caught me and he wrapped his arms around my waist for some reason.

I didn’t dare open my eyes, afraid and embarrassed with the current situation. The feel of his touch burned right through my clothes and onto my skin. Holy shit don’t fucking blush, Hyoeun DO. NOT. FUCKING. BLUSH!!!

I felt Chanyeol’s chest vibrate with a silent laughter and the air he let out through his nose envelope my face like a relaxing hot steam. I finally decided to open my eyes and the sight of his smug look made my face turn sour.

“You’re blushing, Hyoeun-ah. Do you like me that much?” Chanyeol said and his smug never left his face. I pushed myself off of him, but his grip on my waist tightened, refusing to let me go.

“Let go of me Chanyeol.” I hiss silently as I keep on trying to push myself off, but wouldn’t let me.

“No. Answer my question first.” He smiled knowingly at me. Both my arms are either side of his face now.

“What question?” I asked with my brows connected with a frown.

“What are you doing?” His lips curled slightly on one side as he asks.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? What are you doing in my room?” I retaliate.

“I was snooping around; it’s my first time seeing your room. And I guess I fell asleep.” He answered arrogantly as if it’s normal to pry on anyone’s property.

“Who told you to enter my room? Nobody enters here except my roommates!” I ask another question as I try to wiggle myself off his gripe.

“The more you strife, the more I will tighten my grip Hyoeun-ah.” The heat of his breath on my face reminds me of a warm summer breeze and it’s making me want to close my eyes, but I fight it off.

“Let me go Chanyeol!” I protested the more.

“Just answer my question.” He grins up at me.

“I was planning on kicking your face to wake you up.” I sighed my answer to him; feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

The truth is, Chanyeol, I was checking you out. I was looking at your freaking beautiful face with your stupid almost perfect skin and your stupid pretty eyelashes that flutter like butterfly wings whenever you blink. And your perfectly-sized nose that compliments your face very well and, your juicy as fuck lips that I want to ravage so bad.

Of course, I can never voice that out.

“You can get off me now, or do you really want to stay that bad?” He scoffs at me with a tiny chuckle.

I didn’t even realize that his hug on my waist was already gone. I was distracted by my thoughts of him. I hate you Park Chanyeol!!!

“I uh— yeah, no.” I stutter and quickly jump off Chanyeol and brushed my clothes as if I stood up from sand.

I turned my back on him, facing my bathroom door and I swear to God I heard a tiny sigh exit his mouth. Maybe I just imagined it, because Chanyeol is incapable of feelings. For the last four years, I have known him, I’ve witnessed all the girls he has hurt left and right. One of the reasons why I hate Park Chanyeol.

“Please get out. I’m tired and I’m going to sleep.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, still facing my bathroom door. I heard no movement from him.

“You know you want me to stay.” Chanyeol teased.

“Not tonight Chanyeol, I’m not in the mood.” I sighed in defeat, burying my face in my palms.

“Fine,” Chanyeol said as I heard him shift off the bed and my bedroom door opens. Wow, this is new. Usually, Chanyeol will press his shit on and continue pissing me off, but he also gave up.

“By the way, we have an early Halloween party on the 28th. I’m pretty sure Iseul will bring you along anyway, but you should come. I’m inviting you, thank me later.” Chanyeol added and slam my door shut with a loud bang.

What the fuck was that? Why would he think I will come just because he invited me?

---

I don’t know how Chohee and Iseul convinced me and why I said yes to their convincing, but here we are now on our way to EXO’s dorm for their Halloween party. It was our first time going there and two of EXO’s managers picked us up, blabbering about how we should not spread around where EXO currently lives.

They have moved EXO 2 times this year already because Sasaengs keep finding out their current location. Of course, we already know all the rules, but I get it, he was just being cautious.

“Here we are. You girls go up first; I need to buy more food for the party.” Jongdae’s manager said as the driver, another EXO manager, and pull up the van into a stop in a fancy condominium underground parking lot.

“Do you need help oppa?” Iseul said, genuinely offers help.

“It’s fine, we can do it.” He said and Chohee slid open the door for us to exit.

“Are you sure, we can really help.” Iseul offered again as she smiled at the older man.

“You’re already in your costumes, just go! Their unit is on the eighteenth floor.”

As we stood in front of the elevator door, waiting for the lift to go down from the twenty-fifth, I checked my outfit on the reflective door. Green sleeveless dress with a thick black waistband in the middle, the dress ends just three inches above my knees, white knee-high schoolgirl socks and simple black ballet flats. I’m supposed to look like Buttercup.

I look to my left and Iseul is retouching her lipstick, holding her cushion compact to her face. She is wearing a red-sleeved A-line dress with a similar black waistband like mine. Her dress is shorter compared to mine, it just barely covers her ass. Her socks higher about two inches below the hem of the dress and it hugged her toned legs well. Her three-inch heels made her look almost as tall as me. She’s supposed to be Blossom and the big-ass bow on her head confirms that.

“Do I look okay?” Chohee asks as she smoothes out the back of her dress.

“You look hot!” I confirmed with a wink and tongue click. The bubbles of our group, wearing a loose-fitting blue dress with a black stretchy belt around her waist. She’s also wearing the same knee high socks as mine and her favorite black chucks.

Our costumes scream our personality well. Iseul with her girly, borderline sultry style. Chohee with her cuteness. And me? Well, they tell me I’m a classic beauty, but I think I’m just plain and simple. And I like things like that, clean.

When we got to the eighteenth floor, there were only two doors there 1801 and 1802. The one on the left, 1801 was decorated with a cutout of a Jack-o-lantern with a few bats pasted around it and some cotton styled as cobwebs for effects.

We got in front of door 1801 and it suddenly flies open to reveal Jongdae’s face; he was wearing a Harry Potter costume. A scar on his forehead and circle specs with no lens. The sounds of medium volume music and laughter can be heard from the inside.

“Shit Jongdae, you scared me!” Iseul jumps up and dropped her purse on the floor. Jongdae laughed as he picks up his girlfriend’s bag.

“You look so hot,” Jongdae said and he licked his lips as he eyes Iseul from head to toe.

“I know!” Iseul sarcastically answered, she slightly hit Jongdae’s chest a little bit and giggled like a school girl.

“Wait, who are you guys supposed to be?” Jongdae scratched his head in confusion and touched the big bow on top of his girlfriend’s head.

“Duh, we’re the Powerpuff Girls!” Chohee scoffs with a laugh. The three of us rolled our eyes in unison.

“I’ve never watched that show, how would I know.” Jongdae chuckles guiltily. Iseul’s hands automatically snaked around her boyfriend’s waist and Jongdae’s hand settle on her butt and gave it a slight squeeze out of habit.

“Do you always have to flaunt your relationship to us?” I said under my breath and Chohee’s lips curled in a stifled smile on one side and gave me a tiny nudge to stop me from talking.

“What was that?” Jongdae asks and looks back at me as we walk through the hallway deep into their dorm. I guess he didn’t hear what I said.

“Nothing.” I smiled innocently and Jongdae smiled back.

“Guys they’re here!” Jongdae announced with his borderline annoying voice as we got to the living room.

Everyone looked at us and it suddenly made me feel conscious. I looked up and scan the room to see Chanyeol’s arms wrapped around the shoulders of two girls. He was wearing a Joker costume, his hair green in color, styled messily looking very stiff as wires with white spray on color on a small spot on the right side.

He smirked at me when our eyes met and I gave him a dirty look. His Joker makeup makes him look extra hot for some reason. And I shake my head slightly to stop my brain from side-tracking again.

“My favorite girls are here!!!” Chanyeol exclaimed and left the two girls hanging. He made his way to us and attempted to grab me by my arms, but I swatted him off.

“Don’t touch me, Chanyeol.” I scowl at him and I heard some of the girls in the mini crowd heaves excessive breaths as if I did something illegal.

“You must be Hyoeun?” I heard someone said and I looked up to see who I recognized as Suho walking towards us, he removed the half mask he was wearing as he walked. I guess he must be Erik from The Phantom of the Opera.

Baekhyun, who was wearing Cony-inspired pieces of clothing, was silently laughing in the background when I pushed Chanyeol off. He whispered something to someone who I think was Sehun and they high-fived each other. What was that about?

“Hi, I’m Suho, EXO’s leader. You can call me by my real name, Junmyeon.” He added and offered his hand to me first.

“Yes, I am Hyoeun. Nice to meet you Junmyeon-ssi.” I answered and gladly took his hand and gave him a genuine smile before I frown again as I look back at Chanyeol when I felt his hand land on my shoulder.

He gave me a knowing smirk on his face that tells me that tonight will be a long night for me. I know that he will do ways to piss me off and not enjoy the party. God, remind me again why I even agreed to go here?

“Hi, I’m Chohee,” Chohee said and shook hands with Junmyeon.

“Junmyeon,” Junmyeon said with a big welcoming grin on his face. He looks like a politician right now.

“Hiiiiii!” Iseul greeted extensively while she’s waving at him. Jongdae’s mouth formed an adoring smile when Iseul acted cutely.

“Hiiii! Nice to see you again, Iseul-ssi.” Junmyeon repeated her tone and giggled.

“So you came. I knew you’d come for me.” Chanyeol inched closer and whispered to me. His sleaziness is making me want to vomit and I haven’t drink any alcohol yet.

“I didn’t come here because of you.” I scoffed at him. Junmyeon, Chohee, Iseul, and Jongdae looked at us. It wasn’t intended to be loud, but I guess some people near us heard it.

“Why don’t you all drop your bags in my room first, girls?” Jongdae cleared his throat and interrupted the already starting razz between me and Chanyeol.

I flick his hand off of my shoulder and walked after Jongdae, Iseul, and Chohee who were already on their way to the stairs. I swing my bag, making sure I hit Chanyeol and I heard a thud. When I looked back, he was stumped on the floor while cradling his stomach. He looked up at me with pure hatred in his eyes.

“Oops.” I put my hands up to my lips, toss my right foot up and proceeded to jog my way up the stairs. I heard Baekhyun making fun of Chanyeol now when I reached the top.

---

Three tequila shots and 4 cups of beer later, I feel like peeing. So I went to the bathroom to relieve myself. When I was near it, Chanyeol suddenly came out of nowhere and beat me to the door. He stopped just outside it and held the door so I can’t come in.

“Chanyeol please let me go first!” I called out over all the different noise. This was our first interaction again after I hit him in the stomach earlier.

“But I got here first.” He taunts and gave me a smug look. He got inside and sticks out his tongue at me before closing the door.

“Park Chanyeol, I swear to God I hate you so much!” I scowl as I keep banging the door and I can hear his laughter from behind the door.

“Hi Hyoeun, right?” I stopped banging the door and look up to see the pretty face of Oh Sehun.

“Y—yeah…” My voice trembled as I concentrate hard not to piss myself right there.

“I get it now…” Sehun’s words trail off as he keeps bobbing his head up and down while looking at me with a sly smile on his lips. “Are you okay?” He suddenly asked when he saw my struggle.

“Do you have another bathroom I can use?” I asked as I sink my nails into my palms.

“Oh, there’s another one upstairs,” Sehun answered with a smile. I quickly bowed to him and brisk walk my way to the stairs, leaving him suddenly with his mouth open in slight shock.

I was already upstairs when I realized I haven’t asked which door was the bathroom. Oh well, I just have to open each door to find out.

I went in front of the first door, grabbed the handle and twist it slowly. I pushed the door to see a man and a woman making out on the bed. They didn’t seem to hear me so I quietly closed the door again. I can feel my heartbeat pulsing in my head now. The urgency of wanting to pee mixed with seeing two people making out is not a good feeling at all.

“What are you doing?” His deep voice suddenly spoke when I successfully opened and almost pushing the door agape. I swear to God I almost peed my pants!

“Don’t fucking startle me Chanyeol, I’m looking for the restroom! I need to pee!” I almost screamed at him.

“That’s my bedroom…”

“Do you have a bathroom in there?” I asked.

“Yeah…”

“Good!”

I proceeded to push his bedroom door wide and flick the lights on, I was met with a relatively clean room. The bed was made and an acoustic guitar is resting on it. The room was full of other instruments and toys, but they were all nicely placed in their respective corners.

I saw another door that was slightly ajar and I can make out the shape of a toilet bowl. I sighed in relief and ran my way to it, not wasting any time. I flick on the light and slam the door shut, locking it in the process. I then started to pull the skirt of my dress up and pushed my underwear down and did my business.

“Hooooly shit!!!” I moaned out as my pee flow voluntarily out of me. The feeling of bliss when I’m finally relieved was making me feel like I’m in heaven.

I think this night is my lucky night because when I grabbed the toilet paper, it was just enough for me to wipe myself. I threw the used toilet paper in the bin and flushed the toilet. When I got out the bathroom after washing my hands, Chanyeol was sitting on his bed waiting for me. His guitar was already placed on a stand next to his digital piano.

“Uh— you’re out of toilet paper.” I awkwardly stated his gaze at me hard and unreadable.

“Hmm…” Was Chanyeol’s only response, it was so silent it’s almost a whisper.

“Yeah, thanks for letting me use your bathroom.” I cleared my throat.

“I didn’t, you just decided on yourself.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Well you went to my bedroom without my permission too, it’s only fair right?” I started walking out of the door, but his hot palm caged my wrist.

With wide eyes, I twist myself dramatically to look at him and he suddenly crashed his lips on me. His other hand cupped the nape of my neck to stop me from pulling away from him. His lips slowly started to move causing mine to dance along. The heat of his palm burned the skin of the back of my neck.

“Tell me you hate this, tell me to stop.” He said with a steady breath when he disconnects our lips, his grip on me still strong. I glance between his eyes that burned with passion and his lips which are slightly moistened by his own saliva. I contemplated for a moment if I should kiss him back.

“I hate you.” I murmur and pull him to me by his necktie, crashing our lips together again.

His grip on my wrist loosened and the hand that left found its way around my waist and Chanyeol pull me towards him. I felt him on my stomach, already hard and needy. He fisted my hair now and tugs it a little bit and a whimper escaped from my mouth.

“You like that, don’t you?” He asks breathlessly. He didn’t even give me time to answer and his mouth already found its way on my neck, tracing kisses, leaving a burning feeling as he goes along. His grip on my hair grows stronger as he sucks on the sensitive skin of my neck.

“Chanyeol…” I whimper as my hands caress his clothed chest.

“Hmm…” He responded in between kisses.

“Did you lock the door?” I ask as I begin to loosen his necktie. He stopped kissing my neck to look at me, his eyes hooded full of intensity.

“I did.” Chanyeol simply answered. He completely let go of me and back up near his bed.

In one swift move, he removed his jacket off of him and ripped his vest open; some buttons flew all over his room. Leaving him only with an undershirt and a tie that I loosen just a few seconds ago. He sat down on the edge of his bed and motioned for me to come near with his middle and forefinger up.

I did as instructed and walked over where he is slow to tease. I reached my back and fished for the zipper of my dress, letting the garment fall off as I made my way to where he was seated, revealing my matching red underwear.

“Hmm red, you look good in that color.” He compliments as he eyes my body hungrily.

When I reached Chanyeol, I outlined my forefinger from his lips down to his chin, neck, clothed chest, and stomach; I stopped on the waist of his dress pants, kneeling in front of him as I did.

I grabbed his belt and started unbuckling it; he threw his head backward when I began to massage his crotch. The grunt that exits his mouth after sends shiver down my spine and straight to my core. My wetness ever growing.

Chanyeol pushed his pants down along with his boxer briefs and his already really hard dick sprung up. The tip was blushed with arousal and pre-cum slowly trickling down.

Without wasting any more time, I grasp him and started sucking the tip and swirl my tongue all around it, his precum blending with my saliva.

“Hyoeun-ah…” Chanyeol moans breathlessly, both his hands collecting all my hair in one big messy ponytail. Another whine exits his mouth when I suddenly took his entirety inside my mouth. The tip of his cock hits my throat making my eyes water immediately, I started making gagging sounds soon after.

“Your gagging sounds better than the music I make.” The comparison made me giggle with laughter while his whole cock still jammed inside my mouth. I felt the reverberation of my giggle vibrate through his skin, which caused him to gyrate his hips on me.

I relaxed my tongue as I pull away from him. My saliva strung when his cock egressed from inside my mouth. I closed my mouth to swallow and I looked up at him, he was looking down at me with severe need. I gripped his dick again and stroke him gently while I looked him deep in the eyes.

“I’m going to make you cum multiple times tonight.” Chanyeol firmly stated with a husky tone, his lips grinned wide like the Cheshire cat.

“Oh, can you really?” I raised my brows in doubt, challenging him.

“Watch me…” Chanyeol suddenly pulls me up by my hair and we both stood, he wriggled his pants and it pooled around his feet. He steps out of it, I ripped his tie and undershirt open as he twirls me around throwing me on his bed. He removed his tie and shirt in a quick maneuver and jumped up on top of me.

I retreated up to his bed and he crawls right after me, I stopped withdrawing when my back hits the mountain of pillows he has. Chanyeol’s fingers found the garter of my panties and yank it down with force, I swear I heard it rip a little bit. I lift my ass up to help him and he slides it down my legs and feet, completely off.

He lifts the crotch of my underwear up his nose, rolling his eyes back as he whiffs the garment and touched himself. The scene that was happening in front of me is making me wetter and wetter by the second.

“Mmm, lovely.” He growled. “I’m keeping this,” Chanyeol said as he opened the cabinet of his bedside table. He stuffed my red panties in there and closed it again.

“That’s one-half of a pair Chanyeol!” I complained.

“Then I’m gonna have to keep the bra too.” Chanyeol reached for the clasp and he unclutched it in one fluid turn.

His hot mouth immediately latched on my right nipple when he removed my bra and threw it across the room. His big hand grasps the other, kneading it like soft dough. I grabbed his cock, stroking it up and down and he moaned ecstatically when I thumbed the still leaking precum on his tip.

“Lie on your back, for me, baby,” Chanyeol mumbles on my ear, his voice fell an octave down.

I inhaled a heavy breath, my mouth opens with anticipation as I position my head on his pillows. Chanyeol smoothed his hand over my skin, tracing it from the middle of my chest, down to my middle. The sensation he was giving me makes me shiver in the best way possible. Just his touch was enough to make my head whirl.

“I love that you’re wet already,” Chanyeol grumbled when his forefinger found my clit and I let out a whimper from the back of my throat when he rubs circles on it.

Chanyeol’s slick finger effortlessly inserted palm up, pushing in and pulling out before a second finger joins in. He lowers his head on me and his tongue glides up and down, running over my hard nub. His long fingers finally found my g-spot and I cry out when he touched it with the digit of his fingers.

I started thrusting my hips up and down when I felt my climax building up. His other hand playing my nipple in between his fingers.

“Ahh Chanyeol, I’m getting there!” I yelp with irregular breathing. My grip on his hair getting tighter as my peak grows closer.

Chanyeol started to shake his hand while pumping his fingers in and out of me and his head sway violently left and right, using his nose and mouth to graze my clit.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I cried out as my walls constrict and my legs shake with my release.

“Mmm so good.” Chanyeol pulls his fingers out of me and inserts it into his mouth, slurping my orgasm clean.

Chanyeol rammed half of his cock inside of me all of a sudden and I gasp in surprise, still very sensitive from my previous peak.

“I wanna fucking tear you apart!” His lips attacked my open mouth and slither his tongue in and around, I felt and tasted my wetness on him when he kissed me.

“Oh… Oh God, you’re so big.” I moaned when he sinks his whole shaft inside of me. He paused for a while to let me adjust to his size.

“Do you still hate me now that I’m inside of you, baby?” Chanyeol teased as we look each other in the eyes with equal fierceness.

“Yes, I hate you Chanyeol. I fucking hate you!” I roared, my hands caressing his stomach, his eyes rolled back when he started bucking his hips. Pushing his cock in and out of me excruciatingly slow.

“I’m gonna hate fuck the shit out of you, you’re gonna keep asking for more,” Chanyeol grumbles with unstable words.

“Ugh shut up, just fuck me already!” I wail and the left side of his lips curl up into a taunting smirk.

“Where are your manners, Hyoeun-ah? You should say please.” He teased some more as he stopped pushing.

“Fuck you Park Chanyeol!” I shrieked and my palm hit his cheek thoughtlessly, even I was surprised.

His eyes widen in shock and the look he gave me after sent a shiver down my spine, his cheek now red from the slap. Chanyeol grabbed my wrists and pin them down on either side of my head and lowers himself down my level and bit the fleshy part of my ear before speaking.

“I love it when you get violent!”

To that, he started thrusting again, with force speed this time. I felt my walls burn with the roughness of our skin rubbing together. Chanyeol lets go of my wrists and his left hand wrapped around my neck and the other pushed my left leg up to give him a better angle.

“Yes… Fuck… Me… Daddy… Faster!” I choke out my words separately with each sharp thrust he shoots me. Chanyeol smirked when he heard me call him Daddy, his thrust not hitching at all.

“Don’t judge me, okay!” I continue to choke out my words, my orgasm growing again as his onslaught continues unchanging and consistent.

“I’m not judging you, I love it!”

“Chanyeol, I’m gonna come, don’t stop…”

“Say my name again Hyoeun-ah, say my name!” Chanyeol’s momentum picked up and his thrusting grew faster, my boobs starting to ache as it bounces with each push and pulls.

“Chanyeol don’t stop!” I howled as my walls tighten around his girth along with his hand around my neck.

“Fuck Hyoeun… Fuck, fuck!” Chanyeol bit his lower lip as he rolled his eyes and threw his head back with the sensation we are giving each other.

I reached my hands up to grab his wrist, my breathing compressed into a pant with his tight hold. With three or more push, I finally reached my limit again for the second time tonight. Chanyeol’s restraint on my neck loosened and continue to fuck me as my orgasm ride out. Soon he also contains his extremity and I felt his hot discharge inside of me.

“Holy shit.” Chanyeol breathed out as he rolled me around and he collapsed on his back while I’m now on top of him, our bond still not disconnecting.

“You know I still hate you, right?” I rested my head on his chest and I listen to his heart beat slowly going back to normal. His chest rises up and down with a single chuckle. I prop myself up a little bit to look at him. He scans my whole face and smiled when his eyes land on my lips.

“We should get back to the party before they suspect anything.” He bit his lower lip, his eyes still glued to my mouth.

I gave him a quick smack on the lips before I stood up, his now soft cock slid out of me, our fused ejaculation trickle down my thighs. Chanyeol grabbed the box of Kleenex on his nightstand, pulled out four to five tissues and hand them to me. I gladly took them and wiped myself clean. I grabbed my bra and dress and started to put them on but Chanyeol stood up and stopped me.

“Let me help you, turn around,” Chanyeol said, twirling me around and grabbed the clasp of my bra that was already hanging onto my shoulder. He took the dress from my hand, got down on one knee and my ass rested on his right shoulder. He slowly pulls my dress to my ass as he trails kisses up my back.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Chohee shriek at the top of her lungs as Baekhyun kicked the bedroom door open. Iseul squealed like a pig when she saw us there, obviously in a post-coital moment. Chanyeol immediately pulls my dress to cover my chest and stood up straight, covering his nakedness with my body.

“Did… Did— you just…” Jongdae was lost for words, all of them were. Jongdae, Junmyeon and Chohee’s faces were all twisted in disgust, Iseul and Baekhyun, on the other hand, have knowing smirks on theirs.

“I thought you locked the door?!” I whined as I covered my face in shame.

“I DID! GET OUT, GET THE FUCK OUT!!!” Chanyeol screamed at them as he grabbed a pillow with his left hand, the other covering his naked crotch. The intruders started running and retreating away and Baekhyun slam the door shut behind them.

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heymich · 5 years ago

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My Motherhood and Nursing Journey- part 4

Preview: Preamble, God’s design, survival and human flourishing, objections and mother to mother wisdom... nursing/breastfeeding, lactivism...

Preamble

I think I know maybe just a handful of people in my life who are passionate about this subject of breastfeeding/nursing and how God has revealed to me his wonderful design and purposes. It’s hard to talk about it because I don’t want to come off as judgmental or shaming others who haven’t, are unable, or for some reason did not decide to walk this particular road. I don’t think I am a better than anyone for living the way I do. I don’t think my family will be superior to anyone’s family because of these decisions. Ultimately God is the best, He will judge justly, and His ways are the best, and the best for us. I want to share this knowledge so someone might be blessed or feel less alone in their decision to go this same path.

Off on a tangent, kind of- Ravi Zacharias had an interview with Ben Shapiro that I found encouraging in many ways. He mentioned in the talk about the issue of elitism vs. egalitarianism. Elitism referring to ideas- that there are some ideas that are better than other ideas. And egalitarianism referring that human beings are all equal in value no matter what differences they might have. The problem of today’s culture is that we have switched the two ideas of elitism and egalitarianism... there is an egalitarianism of ideas (all ideas are equal) and an elitism of people (certain people having more value than other people).

I do find often this particular conundrum in the realm of this current day conversation. It seems like ideas are treated as equal- such as, your truth is your truth, my truth is my truth (relativism) and the idea of just do what works for you (pragmatism, individual autonomy). The idea of doing something that is “better” or even “right” is considered in some conversations as harsh, judgmental, prideful, and shaming others who do things differently. Some circles embrace “science” and “facts” but when it comes to making personal decisions, many like the sense that “personal rights” are honored, vs. what is actually right for the person, and right for society and human flourishing.

So how does one have a proper discussion of ideas without feeling personally trampled, accused, attacked, or feeling like certain people who disagree will feel less valued, and feel shamed? Sadly when I google up stories of breastfeeding and post-partum depression, you hear accounts of women who feel suicidal or not mom enough because they “failed” to breastfeed their children and feel pressured by the term “breast is best”. It was in nursing school that I learned the concept of “breast is best”. I thought it was a wonderful saying, based on undeniable facts that breastmilk is far superior to any other feeding method for a baby. In today’s world it seems like the medical advice is “fed is best”. As long as the baby is fed, that is what matters. You know, for the sake of protecting a mother’s value, worth, and mental health. Mothering is hard enough right?

No judgment to my mom friends. I was formula fed. I turned out “okay” right? My mother had twins. She didn’t think breastfeeding was going to work out with us. We were also born premature... I’m happy to have been fed either way and I’m alive. Praise the Lord.

I understand somewhat, both sides of the extremes. But at the same time I don’t agree. My heart aches. My mind is puzzled. I love mothers and I love babies and I love God’s wonderful gift of breastfeeding. I truly think the “idea” of breastfeeding and breastmilk is superior to all other forms of infant feeding. How do I respond to those who disagree? I can only share from my heart and hear each story case by case and offer support where I can...

God’s design, survival and human flourishing

I’m not an expert on this but mammals are a class of animals that have mammary glands. Humans happen to be part of that same class... so we make milk, to feed our young. Wonderful isn’t it. It’s clear to me that God created us to nurse our young for however long the young need to be nursed (which some may decide what that age is...). There are wonderful articles sharing the benefits of breastmilk and breastfeeding your child for both the mother and the child- I guess I’ll link a few here, here, and here.

This information just wows me! It gets me excited. And I’m so thankful I get to do this... to nourish the next generation. Even though I am an imperfect vessel. It hasn’t been a perfect journey. Some days are harder than others. Some days I’m unsure if I even made the right decision. But we’re living it, we’re doing it... I really hope it pays to get this first hand experience so I can pass on the knowledge and support to my children. Not everyone will choose this path but I think it is absolutely necessary (in a physical sense) for human flourishing. Also, spiritual lessons can be drawn through this journey...

Being connected physically to my children for this long has definitely forced me to take care of my own health as I am nourishing lives. The lack of ovulation due to breastfeeding has bought me time to connect with my children and recover from my pregnancies, labours and deliveries. Having my children connected to me through nursing definitely forces me to understand their cues and their needs as they change and grow. I do prefer the term nursing over breastfeeding, because breast should not be just about feeding. It’s way more than that, in my paradigm. Again I did not always think this way. Nursing has forced me to be more nurturing and attentive to my babies’ emotional needs and my own body’s need to rest and restore.

In an immune perspective, I was also impressed to learn that the child’s immune system is not fully developed until they are around 6 years of age. And globally the upper limit of end of nursing is age 6-7. Isn’t that amazing?? I gotta find the exact article where I found that. They also compared different mammals, and their reproductive ages, and it seems to make sense that humans nurse longer because they reach their reproductive age at a later time compared to most animals.

Okay, and in a survival perspective. Let’s say... there is a natural disaster and we are out of clean water. And you happen to have been formula feeding your infant and now you cannot feed your child. What will you do? Obviously you wouldn’t want your child to starve. Lord willing, help will come and provide clean water somehow but as a nursing mother I have another solution to offer to you. Wet nursing. It’s been practiced in the past, and it’s even mentioned in the Bible. And we all know that formula is a modern invention right? Of course there are people who DIY their own formulas or give their kids cow or goats milk. But even bottles are a pretty modern invention. I haven’t done all the research but something in me sees that in a state of emergency and lack of clean drinking or washing water, the non-breastfed kids are going to be at a disadvantage. I guess it is helpful for a family who is formula feeding their child to have an emergency stash somewhere... anyway there are sources sharing how even if the mom doesn’t have nourishment during an emergency she can still nurse her child and make lots of milk. Wow praise God!! Breastfeeding can save lives!

Objections to promoting nursing/breastfeeding

Just to name a few. There are a lot of great pro-breastfeeding advice out there but this is my response...

- Having bad experiences with nursing. Dear mothers who struggle, you aren’t alone. It’s important to read up about nursing and connect with people who actually want you to succeed in your “breastfeeding goals” (e.g. how long you want to nurse and your experience of it). There are people who are well-intentioned but are quick to advise you (or affirm you towards) early weaning when you or baby aren’t ready yet, or provide enough information to convince you to use formula. Nursing is not supposed to be painful but the reality is that we do live in a fallen world and things like congenital abnormalities, mineral deficiencies, stress from the birth experience or medications used during labor, and lack of experience and misinformation can lead mothers on a difficult, confusing, “unnatural” mothering journey of nursing their babies in the early weeks. It is not an easy journey.

For example... myself- I was not nursed. My mother and mother in law did not nurse their kids (formula fed generation, but also just a medical condition where nursing was not advised). Generally many people in our parents’ generation did not nurse their kids so they do not see the benefit of nursing nor see what the purpose of even trying to nurse your own children since bottle feeding is more convenient. Call me kooky but I like trying new things, doing hard things and I feel motivated by the “rightness” of it all, (e.g. you start making colostrum, supply and demand based on baby’s sucking needs... it’s just meant to be, it’s supposed to happen, the baby needs it, mom needs it too)... that I think it is a pilgrimage worth journeying through.

- Fear of failure? Not feeling mom enough? Post-partum depression and anxiety... Like, what if it didn’t “work” for you for some reason? From what I have read, I honestly think that any woman who has a baby can nurse their baby, with the right supports in place, and if the mother is determined to make it work for whatever time they hope to nurse for. I am really sorry for those who couldn’t do it for what ever reasons but I don’t think it should be something to normalize when a mother or baby has to end the nursing relationship earlier than they anticipated especially in the first 2 years of the baby’s life. I think the reality is that there are many factors that make nursing so difficult for today’s modern women and I don’t think it’s fair to blame breastfeeding, or the promotion of breastfeeding for creating a sense of failure in the mother. See... perhaps someone can explain it to me, but I don’t really understand why I hear stories of moms (online usually) who say they had felt “pressure” to breastfeed their child and for some reason the mother couldn’t do it, but felt she shouldn’t have been “pressured” to breastfeed. I feel with the many options mothers have in today’s world people perceive that breastfeeding is just another mothering choice. In my mind breastfeeding is a part of mothering. And I would wish that mothers didn’t feel pressured if people come around and try to advocate and support their breastfeeding journey to be a success. I don’t see why that would be shaming a mother to promote breastfeeding, unless she truly did not want to nurse her child and felt the support was completely unnecessary. Well then that’s her choice and she should be supported as long as her baby is fed... and hopefully she did it informed-ly. Sadly I’m not even sure if people today actually want more information, but rather they want privacy and independence to do whatever they want with their lives and their children’s lives. Okay then.

There’s another great quote by Ravi where he says that with the world’s egalitarianism of ideas, that you can’t escape that there are natural consequences to each idea. I gotta post the actual quote down in the future. But it’s been burning in my mind to share that... God allows us to make the choices we make. He doesn’t necessarily force us to do what he wants. However every choice has it’s consequences. What you sow is what you reap! I love God’s order. I love how gravity is constant. I love how there is order blessing that follows with obedience, and that there is chaos and judgment when the path of selfishness and disobedience is followed.

I don’t like scaring people into decisions. But I still like to inform my dear friends who are thinking through their choices about God’s wonderful design and the wonderful scientific facts available to us. For some people they rather not think through consequences long term because for now, it works for them and their family. Bravo. It is a bit present-pragmatic (is that even a word?) but I respect that approach too. Though I love the path I have taken so far and I’m excited what God will do through it, I also acknowledge not everyone’s arrived to the same ideas, and I totally respect a wife who is willing to be lead by her husband’s lead and preferences on raising their family for the glory of God. Mothers, you are wives and helpers to your husbands before you are mothers. Your mothering will have great influence by your husband’s lead... God is watching, and He will take care.

- I just want my body back, or sleep, or self-care, or it’s just not good for my mental health. I remember losing my former belly button and realizing it will never look the same after my first was born. I had to grieve that loss and accept my body has given birth to a life and will now be nourishing a life. I am not my own. I was never my own. I am the Lord’s. I am a wife AND a mother now. I need to catch up with reality sometimes. Mother, have you considered what your body is for, and who it belongs to? Do you see your motherhood as a calling from God and a way to worship Him through your mothering duties? I feel in this world, there is an attempt to separate God’s creation from God’s intended purposes and design for that creation- specifically as I am talking about separating sex from children, separating breasts from nursing a child, separating women and wife-hood and motherhood... did you know that it is possible to tend to your sleep and mental health without sacrificing the needs of your child? I feel like I’m getting into potentially judgmental territory because I don’t know what you struggle with at this time so I apologize if this comes across wrongly. For example, did you know that breastfeeding actually causes mom and baby to be relaxed and sleepy? Doesn’t that sound like self-care, right there? Sleep with your baby if you can!! I know some people might not dig the idea of bedsharing... but that’s in the Bible too. Haha. Luke 11:7. I think my expectations of self-care have changed. I remember feeling so miserable about not having my daily showers with being so busy with the newborn stage. Now I don’t even shower every day as I learned it’s actually not good for you (especially, washing with soap that is. However I should treat myself to some “hydrotherapy” more often. Then again, I guess part of my self-care right now is to write this down for you to read right now!

I also remember being sad I had to hide in a room to avoid making certain men feel uncomfortable during a social gathering. Now I crave those alone times away from crowds and I see nursing as a nice retreat to gather myself before I go out and socialize again. In other scenarios learning to nurse in public has helped me sooth my baby in public while being able to listen to the sermon at church, for example. I’ve learned to be very flexible... we’ve even gone camping with my first at 10 months and she would just go where I went. It made for good memories even though it was a lot of work!

Mental health story: I remember the pressure of feeling I had to separate from my first child at 4 months old for that date night opportunity... I was not ready at the time. My kind in-laws were offering us a date night I believe. They formula fed their kids so the idea of leaving your child to a caregiver didn’t seem a big of a deal however for me, I wasn’t sure if my kid would even take a bottle yet. It was a pretty big deal to leave my little nursling!! Hehe first time parenting. Anyway, I called up my local LLL leader who reassured me that I can still enjoy dates with my husband while bringing my baby with me. She reassured me that babies are only little for a season and that I should enjoy the time I get with the baby, and consider things like baby wearing and bringing the baby on the date too. She commented things like I just became a mother and it is a transition. I had heard similar advice from a wise woman of 8 children who told me that this season flies by quickly and to enjoy it. Hmm... sometimes we just want to get on with the next stage only to realize we wish we could have savored it more. Not to sound kid-centric but I’m just growing more convinced that if we embrace this season of life, we can deal with it better mentally (self-talk: I am a mother and a wife and I can do both by the grace of the Lord Jesus)... and by asking for help in ways that help me to prioritize the things I care about like sleep, and mental health (e.g. asking help from family and friends with thing related to domestic duties for a season like cooking and cleaning). Now that I have 2 kids I realize the preciousness of any kind of alone time I get with my husband and help I get from others. I am more confident about leaving my kids for a couple of hours. I left my second born at 3 months with her first bottle and told my in-laws we’ll be back, in the mean time I trust you all will survive ;). it gives me perspective that if I were to die one day, my kids would be more than okay and God will take care. That takes a lot of pressure off me as a mom, even though my little ones depend so much on me for a season of time. After having my second I realize the time where they are physically needy is an important time to bond and grow together- I can choose to grumble through it, or be thankful for it and just roll with it. Some days/moments I fail and some days/moments I succeed. Anyway, perspective pays and thank God for His grace to grant us moms with supernatural patience and gentleness and kindness and thankfulness... we can’t do it on our own. We are not our own. Lord please continue to give me more of your perspective...

- We just don’t live in that kind of world, it’s not realistic, lack of support. I’ve heard this personally... that my ideals just don’t fit in this world that we live in. Moms have to go to work. We don’t live near our families. We don’t get the support we need so we can be healthy enough to nurse our children. It doesn’t feel socially acceptable to nurse my child in public. What will people think? It’s kind of gross don’t you think? My child doesn’t need this and already eats food. Well you get to make your own decision. I want to be there to support those who do choose this path, and a support to those who don’t choose the same exact path. I definitely think we need to be a community that supports each other even in our differences, and continue to learn from each other. For survival, for human flourishing, for the glory of God. Ultimately whether someone chooses to breastfeed or not is not really my primary concern. My primary concern is love, whether people understand that or not... Love for God and love for others. Not just in how we make parenting choices, but how we make time to bless one another through the time we spend together, the ideas we might share, and the practical help we provide for one another. Mom’s need support to raise the next generation. This is work of eternal value. It needs community to support this grand endeavour.

Mother to mother wisdom

Titus 2 comes to mind. But also from the inspiration of LLL and other sources of information, I’ve been more and more convinced the value of passing on wisdom, traditions and knowledge via mother to mother. I sense we live in a culture where families are very individualistic, and distant from the previous generation, and are quick to run to the “experts” e.g. their doctor when concerns arise in the care of their child, or the way they handle labour and delivery. I want to share my heart about this as I think this is vital to human flourishing and obeying the Lord in the area of women and childbearing. Shortly my concern is that when people run to health care providers who are not experienced in normal birth and delivery and preparing the woman to conceive and carry a pregnancy and give birth, and nursing well... that it could lead to a negative experience of motherhood (starting from conception) and create unnecessary trauma for a woman and harden her heart towards the idea of having more children going forward, or being fearful of her past traumas. My understanding is that these traumatic experiences don’t have to be the norm (as it is dramatized in our culture about worst case scenarios, and hospitalization of birth as if it were a disease)... instead I would want to advocate healthy motherhood experiences from conception to post-partum so the mother gets the best start to her parenting journey and is encouraged to continue being open to children out of obedience to the Lord. I know maybe it’s not in my job to change a person’s heart on the subject of trusting God with their fertility but I guess I see that the factors that impact a woman’s motherhood could be improved so that the experience of motherhood can be enjoyed for what it was meant to be. There are things that a doctor isn’t necessarily going to tell a mother unless they too themselves are mothers. Actually if a woman were to visit a doctor for their birth, it would be wisest if the doctor was too a woman or a man who is married to a woman who has given birth to many children. I think I can trust testimony from a woman who has successfully given birth and has cared for her body and is proven to be able to care for her families needs. An example that I admire is Serene Allison from Trim Healthy Mama. She looks great after 9 biological kids (I think) and is a grandmother, homeschooler and businesswoman. She has a little one herself and looks like a busy mom and faithful wife and is spiritually lively.

In conclusion... I am not against formula or those who think differently. But I really love God’s gift of nursing and mothering and wanted to share that to the world and give praise to God as I share. He is good and so wise! There is so much I could write about this topic... as God teaches me but I think this concludes my series on “Motherhood and nursing journey” so far...

Lactivist quotes from theologian John Calvin

". . .the Lord does not in vain prepare nutriment for children in their mothers' bosoms, before they are born. But those on whom he confers the honor of mothers, he, in this way, constitutes nurses; and they who deem it a hardship to nourish their own offspring, break, as far as they are able, the sacred bond of nature. If disease, or anything of that kind, is the hindrance, they have a just excuse; but for mothers voluntarily, and for their own pleasure, to avoid the trouble of nursing, and thus to make themselves only half-mothers, is a shameful corruption."

The above is a comment from John Calvin's writings about Genesis 21:7, which reads:

7 And she added, "Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age."

Love,

Michelle

#lactivism

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captainjackspoilers · 7 years ago

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Did I ever mention?

I’ve talked about my (highly suspected) endometriosis on here before, and even though I’m now officially at 2 years of investigation which has made virtually no progress, I’ve only got to this point through sheer stubbornness. When it first started, all they did was a blood test, which showed nothing, and gave me a prescription for codeine. A month or two later, I come back because my symptoms and pain have become worse. After much prodding, I’m sent for an ultrasound.

The ultrasound takes place after a month, and now pain which started as just really bad period pain has now started to occur when I’m ovulating as well. The nurse doing the ultrasound makes it very painful, pressing down on my lower abdomen, where my pain was already terrible, to the point where I thought I was going to bruise. She says to herself that I have a ‘borderline ovary’, which she doesn’t explain. I left terrified and in pain for days.

Weeks later, I come back in to the doctors, where a junior doctor sees me. She tells me that my right ovary was inflamed or enlarged and that they thought it was PCOS. She then proceeds to Google PCOS in front of me, reading out the symptoms and effects off of the screen. She then says that she will ask her bosses if I should even be sent for further scans.

Now, this is my favourite part: I get a call the next day from this doctor the next day and she asks me whether I want further investigation at this time, saying: 'I wouldn’t worry about it at this point. Why don’t you wait until you want babies to look at it again?’ I’m 19 at this point on the verge of tears, with the pain starting to really impact my life, and I insist on carrying on. Next up was an internal ultrasound (i really hope I don’t have to do this again, because I know the pain would be way too much at this point). After being told to come with a painfully full bladder and being called in 30 minutes late, I’m told that that wasn’t necessary and actually ill advised. Both ovaries are clear, its definitely not PCOS and it’s back to step one.

After pushing again to get answers, I’m put on a few contraceptive pills to see if any of them do the job (spoiler alert: they didn’t). I’m also told to 'experiment’ with codeine by my doctor, suggesting that I take 4x15mg 4 times a day, as well as metaphemic acid. My pain is going from any time in my cycle to simply all the time at this point- from this point on, the pain is now every day, just some are good days, where I'm mostly fine with pills and heat/tens or bad days when I can barely get out of bed because of the pain.

We’re approaching the one year mark when they conced and send me to a gynecologist. Despite all the evidence, and a few doctors strongly suggesting endometriosis, he says he doesn’t think it’s a gyne problem. I’m now having to wear stick on heat patches to combat the pain, which now occurs throughout my cycle. He then gives me an internal exam, not seeming bothered by the fact that I’m crying in pain throughout (apparently common- a friend screamed in agony during hers and they paid no mind to her either). His groundbreaking suggestion? Contraceptives!

3 months later, and the pills have done nothing, and the pain is a lot worse. I’m now on dihydracodeine (max doseage) and told that I’m showing signs of codeine addiction (total mystery). I’m also needing to use either a tens machine or heat pad at all times now- the gyne isn’t bothered by the fact that I have serious burns all over my abdomen from heat pads. He just sends me back to have an ultrasound. While everyone so far has been unsympathetic, I’m glad to find that I have a nice doctor and nurses doing my ultrasound. They are horrified by my burns and by how much pain I’m in, and try and be as gentle as they can. Once again, nothing on the ultrasound. The gynecologist decides to try another contraceptive, while my doctors prescribe tramadol and naproxen (if naproxen is taken without stomach protection, it can lead to ulcers- as I found out when it happened to my mum. I was only given the protection after very forcefully insisting).

Another three months go by, and thus contraceptive has failed too and my pain is continuing to get worse. It’s my final year at uni, which makes the pain even worse with how it affects my life. The only perk is that I have found a friend in one of my tutors who’s had endometriosis for 30 year, but was misdiagnosed for half of that time. The gynecologist says that he believes that a laparoscopy (the only way to properly diagnose endometriosis) is 'too risky’, although he never explains why, and refers me to his colleague for, you guessed it another contraceptive! This time, in the form of zolaplex injections, which he described as an 'anti-hormone’, one Side effect being pretty intense hot flushes.

Christmas comes and my pain spreads and considerably worsens. While chatting to my friend/tutor one day, she horrified to learn that I’m not seeing a pain consultant and helps me to sort that out. I’m given amitriptiline for the pain and to help me sleep, and get to see a pain consultant after about 3 months. My gynecologist and GP have told him that they were investigating PCOS, which you’ll recall, have been decidedly disproven. When I explain zmy pain and suspected endometriosis, he can only offer acupuncture or a physiologist, and suggests swimming. Bearing in mind, just walking triggers my pain at this point, not to mention the fact that I can’t have anything touch my stomach, which firmly rules out swimming.

My new gynecologist refers me to a pain consultant friend of his who prescribes me gabapentine, which kind of works, but not enough. My pain has continued to get far worse, with the injections doing nothing.

And now we’re up to date. I now find that, despite the fact that I am no longer able to eat a lot, I’ve gained nearly a stone, my hot flushes leave me humiliatingly sweaty at all times and I’m also losing my hair. This, in addition to the new development of struggling to pee at all, among other bladder issues, my pain consultant is concerned, but the new gynecologist thinks it’s a side effect of the injections (that isn’t listed anywhere as a possible side effect).

At my last appointment, it was a bad pain day and I was trying not to cry from the pain. The nurse is surprised that I’m in pain, as if she thought it was just a little achy during periods. As I hold back sobs of pain, the gynecologist decides to stop the injections and refuses to talk about next steps, shooting down a laparoscopy as soon as I mention it. He has withdrawn treatment and won’t see me for six weeks, while my pain consultant wants to wait for three months to see how I do. One thing is becoming very clear and that I now see how women suffer for 8 years on average before diagnosis.

Hopefully, anyone in similar situations to mind will have the medical support and commitment that I don’t. Xx

#endometriosis #chronic panic #disability #life sucks

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bloghealthinterventions · 4 years ago

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#7 The Patient Connection

○ What we will discuss this time:

■ The Patient- Provider relationship.

■ How to establish that connection.

■ And how that connection benefits both you and patient.

I know that we are living in a modern techie world with EMRs, electronic devices, apps to monitor blood pressure readings, apps that can obtain an EKG for you, apps to track food, apps to track glucose levels, average expected A1C, ovulation and even menstrual cycles. You can download a report of all of those things in a beautiful graphic form. If you are lucky enough to have a techie person that can set it up, you can download and interface these things into the patient’s EMR system right from their phone or other tracking device. You potentially could have all the data you need in a click before the patient comes in. With all of this you should be able to manage your patient, perfectly right. And they should be able to manage their comorbidities, well right? Because with all of the tools available everyone involved should have everything that they need to live in perfect health.

So, I ask the question, why are our outcomes no better?

I propose it’s the human experience.

What about the human experience? The provider patient connection? What about the value of those subtleties that you pick up on in human interaction, communication and observation that are not included in all of these tracking devices?

What about the motivational piece? What is going to keep them going when they STOP tracking the data? A who is more motivating than a device.

There is much research on the missing element of human connection in our modern-day world. This has been further evidenced during the COVID pandemic.

An electronic device can never replace a personal interaction. I think they are causing more stress. They are causing more health decline. On the stressful aspect, people are constantly monitoring numbers that they may not understand. I believe this data overload is more likely to increase anxiety than to improve health outcomes. Because when you put all that data mixed with some symptoms into Dr. Google what happens?

In my experience they always come out with diagnosis of either cancer or something that is going to kill them. And then they come in in a panic.

I have been concerned about the concept of healthcare being moved towards the virtual world for some time. We are not robots. We are not computers. We are humans and we have our own hard-wiring that requires interpersonal interaction. Do not get me wrong, there are several things that once you have become established with a patient you can take care of virtually. However, there are many things that require face-to-face interaction and to see the entire patient.

Think about perception in interactions without humanism. For example, when getting a text message from someone and not understanding the intention of the words without a voice from the other side. You can take a message that was meant to be lighthearted and joking as an absolute jab or an insult and be angry. That is because it’s missing the facial expression and voice inflections and all the other things that go around the meaning of just words.

At the beginning of the stay at home orders during the pandemic, I personally was forced to implement the virtual visits, so that my patients were not left hanging. I still wanted to be able to speak to them and see them, even if it were through the computer screen or a telephone encounter. There are so many things you can get from nonverbal communication that help manage the patient, however, given the situation I had no choice but to follow the virtual path.

I was anxious to see how they would receive this virtual world. Would they be happy they didn’t have to leave home? If it were not for the safety factor during the pandemic… Would they start to think that it was easier to not have to take a day off work? To be able to do that visit and go on about their day?

I am happy to say that I am no longer fearful of losing the one on one patient encounters to my computer screen! With most every visit that ended, the patient would say “I really hope I get to see you in person next time.” Not very many were happy with the cold computer screen interactions. As for the the lack of the physical aspect of visit, I was concerned about not being able to track vitals on patients I had initiated medications on prior to the abrupt shut down. Assessing fluid volume status on patients that I had placed on diuretics. Were the home weights accurate? Were they telling me the truth? Or were they maybe adjusting the numbers a little bit, so they didn’t get fussed at?

How about those who were experiencing emotional challenges due to the pandemic? Did they feel that they were able to convey their feelings to me appropriately through the computer? But, Was any contact better than no contact? That question I can answer positively yes. At least there was some contact, but not the same.

I have been very fortunate to have established many wonderful therapeutic relationships with my patients. I am confident that from the very first meeting they can feel my energy of compassion and genuine interest in their needs. My patients are very important to me. Whether it is the first time I have met them or the 20th time we have had an encounter, each person matters. I believe that conveyance genuineness improves the quality of care.

When a patient comes to you they are often nervous, in pain, distress, worried about something, happy about something, wanting your advice and your guidance for something or looking to you to help them with something pertaining to their own physical or emotional self.They could have read some thing on the Internet that is stuck in their mind or heard something from another person that has caused them a lot of anxiety and worry about how it may affect them or someone they love. They don’t always tell you this in the beginning. A lot of times you have to ask, you have to get deep into the conversation you are having to read their body language and watch the expressions on their face to make sure that you explain something completely or that you have addressed all their concerns. Sometimes you are the only person they have to confide in or to ask something without feeling as if they’re being judged.

This doesn’t happen without a connection. This doesn’t happen if you were staring at your laptop or whatever device you take into the room. If you are not fully engaged with that person during the visit you were going to miss a lot. They are going to leave that visit in the exact same way that they came in. What is the good in that? Do you want to send them back to Dr. Google or to get their advice from the neighbor or coworker Who tells them do something crazy, like I don’t know put an onion in your sock when I go to bed. That would help a diabetic ulcer wouldn’t it?

I’m going to share with you how I believe you can establish a connection with your patients that will benefit both of you.

Establishing that connection is very worth your time and effort. Remember that nurses are one of the most trusted professions. There’s a reason for that. There’s a reason why patients tell us things that they don’t tell others. They feel safe and they feel like you care. Remember our role is to advocate for patients. You can’t advocate for someone you don’t know anything about. Because each person is an individual and each person deserves your time and your expertise to make them feel well and improve their health.

I believe first and foremost; you must treat them as an individual and give them your full attention. The first time that you meet with a patient, it is almost like an interview process. YOU get to set the tone of the interview. You both most likely are on your best behavior and put your best assets forward.

I believe that one of the best assets in practice is listening and being intuitive to what the patient is saying, or trying to say, so that you may guide the visit in a manner that gathers information efficiently that is real relevant to the situation at hand.

This comes with time. This comes with each patient you encounter. This is why being an advanced practice nurse matters. All of the years you spend bedside gives you the intuition you need. If you are still new to this, don’t worry. You will develop this overtime. It is called experience. If you’ve been doing this for a while, you understand that there are many things you can pick up on non verbally when you were actually present in the encounter. Every encounter, with every patient is a learning experience.

Here is the way to start that connection:

In that first visit, make sure to enter the room with a smile, set that tone. You should never appear to be in a hurry no matter how behind you are. Always make eye contact and shake the persons hand if appropriate. Then sit. When you sit, even if it’s only for 30 seconds, it is perceived as if you have all the Time in the world. The patient perceives this as if you care about them and what they have to say, That You are present and that you are listening. I like to think we are sitting for a cup of coffee. Professional boundaries in place of course, but when your patient is comfortable the conversation flows. No need for hierarchy here.

Do not focus on an electronic device, with your face in that device instead of looking at the patient. There will be time to get out that device our later. You can’t possibly chart it all in the room anyway, so give them your attention instead. If you have reviewed the information, they have submitted on their forms prior to going into the room you can give that attention. Typically, I start with, “I understand that you’re here today for…” you want to be able to summarize some of that knowledge to them, so they know again that you really are there and present and you reviewed their information. Some of those forms have a lot of questions on them and they took the time to fill out those forms and if you look at them you were going to get a lot of insight. Even if you look at their handwriting. I still have my patients fill out a form manually because handwriting matters. Did they misspell something? Is it sloppy that might indicate there is a tremor? again, the little things you learn to evaluate with attention to detail.

I do not type while I’m speaking to the patient. I will take in a good old fashion pen and paper and write on the back of their intake form if it’s their first time or the charge sheet that comes back with them. Whatever I have.

Then there’s this crazy thing that happens, I listen to them. I may guide and direct the conversation when appropriate, but I listen and let them finish their sentences. Many times, you will hear that they have been from provider to provider telling the same story and still have not gotten any answers. And I truly believe that that is because many providers don’t take the time to listen. It’s more about numbers getting to the endpoint. What’s your cholesterol, what’s your blood pressure how much do you weigh, this is what your goal should be, these are the test we’re going to order.

Patients are not going to confide in you or interact with unless they know that you care. The more you gather on that first visit and the more that you connect with the person on that very first visit, the better your experience is going to be in every subsequent visit. And you just might get that one piece of information that will bring everything together.

THAT helps your patient.

What also helps them is that knowing you care, improves their willingness to make an effort towards the plan of care developed. They will “TRUST” you will do no harm and have their best interests at heart. You see, they don’t understand what you understand. All of the numbers, all of the guidelines, all of the medications mean very little to that person. That person is thinking about how they feel. How they want to feel. The person is thinking about the family they want to be around for or the life that they want to enjoy, without illness or limitation. When you connect with them in such a way that they trust that you are doing what is right for them, they will work towards the goals that you have set together.

The other thing is to always make it a point to explain what you were doing and the intentions behind it, as well as expected outcomes. To just say stop eating sugar. Or stop drinking soda sounds like a demand. But when you say, “if you continue to drink that many sodas per day, you’re going to keep putting out a lot of insulin that is causing you to gain weight and makes you feel terrible. So, if you were able to decrease those sodas by maybe one a day until you get off of them completely, you’re going to be able to lose weight and stop an insulin roller coaster that is making you that gain weight and feel so bad.” They hear you. When they look at it from that perspective, they are more likely to succeed.

You see, talking about your health and personal concerns, such as stress, anxiety, weight management, depression, symptomatology are all better when you’re discussing them with someone that you have a relationship with that you trust with your health. Not just your health, but with your life.

No how does it help you as the provider? Well, a pleasant experience for one thing. When you build a relationship, you enjoy going into each and every patient encounter. You look forward to beginning the visit with “how are you, how is the family, how’s that new job”, and then get down into business. Because once you set that relationship and set in motion the action plan that you get to review, the visits are way more enjoyable for both you and the patient. And then you can glide into the next goal. Get to know them first, get their take first, then you can either support their efforts with your clinical findings or help to revamp the plan a little bit to achieve that goal. But it’s much less labor-intensive once you have a relationship. There won’t be any hiding of information or worry that if they tell you something, you’re just going to look down on them or judge them or dictate another action that is inconceivable to them. This should be a reciprocal patient provider relationship. Not a dictatorship. We are working with in their life. We cannot put our life into their life. We help them to guide their life to improve their quality of life and their health.

Another great thing is, that if by chance you should be running behind, they are less likely to get upset with you. Not that it’s an excuse to always run behind, but they know that when the time comes that they need more of your time, you’ll be listening to them. I have on many occasions said, “I am really sorry that I ran a bit behind I do appreciate your patience. I know that your time is important, but someone needed a few extra minutes of my help” if needed I will add, “and you do know I would do the same for you if the situation came up that you needed more time with me.” And almost every time that I need to do that, the patient will sit back, relax, and verify that to be true. that is because I have given them my time before. I have set the stage and I have set the tone that they are important and that their time matters as well.

To further support that connection and patient provider relationship, at the end of each visit summarize what you have went over, what the action plan is and what the goal is for the next visit. Then they absolutely know that they were heard and if there’s anything that was missed, they have the opportunity to add that in now. Specifically ask, is there anything that I missed? Is there anything else that I can help you with?

I hope this was helpful. If you have been in a situation where you were a little bit rushed, where you don’t always have control over your schedule or you have other things that are coming into play during your day you may not always take the time to stop center yourself and go into the room to intentionally create that connection. But I can assure you, that if this is something that you are able to implement you were going to see the reward for both yourself and for your patience. I don’t want you to get burned out. And we are in a profession that has a high burnout rate right now. It’s because we are expected to go go go, see 30 to 40 patients in a day and not really spend any time with any of them. All you do is jump from room to room with the sole intent of getting finished before the end of the day. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t do that to your patient. I urge you to work on this therapeutic communication and connection so that you can continue to practice what you love. I want you to be able to continue to do what you love. I hope that you love anyway.

So, the take-home from this podcast is to remember the human experience. Don’t get caught up in all of the technical world of healthcare. Even if it’s five minutes in a room you can make it a connected experience. You probably need that just as much as your patient does. This profession for most of us is who we are, not what we do. So, with that, give just a little bit of you and your time and every visit. It will change your practice dramatically. You might even find yourself smiling a few more times during the day instead of being always hurried and stressed.

I want to thank you again for taking your time to listen to this podcast. Let me know if you are enjoying the podcast! Subscribe so you don’t miss an episode! Share your thoughts. And if you’re feeling connected, give me a review! That will help others find this podcast to help with their practice also!

You can find more of me and what I’m up to on healthinterventions.net, Facebook and Instagram!

Have a great week! May it be filled with many Health Interventions!

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oovitus · 6 years ago

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‘What’s happening to my body!?’ 6 lifestyle strategies to feel your best during menopause.

Hot flashes, mood swings, weight gain, brain fog: Menopause can make you wonder if your body is totally cuckoo. But what many women don’t realize is that they do have some control over these symptoms. Here’s what’s going on, plus six lifestyle strategies to feel your best during menopause.

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Mood swings. Weight gain. Waking up to sweat-soaked pajamas and bedsheets every… darn… night.

Menopause can feel weird, uncomfortable, and downright scary for many women.

Your body is suddenly doing all this stuff you don’t recognize.

Sometimes it feels like your body and brain are no longer under your control.

You ask yourself…

Is this normal?

Is my body against me?

Is there anything I can DO?!

When you look to the internet for advice, you’re confronted with headlines like this:

“8 sneaky symptoms of perimenopause — Do YOU have it?”

“Rare jungle herbs to cool your hot flashes & heat up your libido!”

“Fight biology and battle your meno-belly with this celebrity diet.”

This is not that kind of article.

We won’t prescribe a “to do” list so you can “overcome” menopause.

No “life hacks”, “cool tricks”, or “quick fixes” either.

Instead, we hope to help you:

understand your body;

appreciate the intelligent adaptations it makes with age; and

embrace change, with all the possibilities that come with it.

Because if you’re a woman (or if you coach women), understanding what’s changing during menopause, why it’s happening, and how to deal with it can make the whole process a lot less confusing, uncomfortable, and frustrating.

While you might feel like your body is all over the place, you actually do have control over your mindset, your lifestyle, and your environment — all of which also affect the symptoms that come along with menopause.

You have the power to affect your hormones.

Yep, really.

There are things you can do to ensure you feel healthy, strong, and — yes — sexy during menopause.

If you’re a woman going through perimenopause or menopause, you might find recognition and relief in this article. You’ll learn exactly what’s going on with your body and what you can do about it.

If you’re a woman who hasn’t yet reached perimenopause or menopause, you’ll learn about what lies ahead. That way, when it happens, you’ll know (or at least have some ideas about) what to do.

If you’re a coach who works with women, you’ll gain insight into what your female clients or patients in midlife may be experiencing. Understanding what’s happening on a biological, psychological, and social level will help you sharpen your coaching superpowers.

In this article:

We’ll outline and examine the different hormonal phases of a woman’s life.

We’ll explain what causes menopause and its warm-up act, perimenopause.

We’ll explore how menopause can affect the body, the symptoms women commonly experience, and what can help.

We’ll suggest lifestyle habits and strategies that can help you feel empowered and in control of your hormones during midlife.

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First, a disclaimer.

Of course, not all women will experience what we’re describing.

We’re speaking here about bodies that have female reproductive systems and a hormonal environment that’s within the statistically “normal” range.

But some people with female reproductive systems don’t identify as female.

And just as there is no single standard experience of menopause, there’s also no single standard way to be a woman (or, for that matter, a man).

People are diverse, and that’s a good thing.

Take what’s useful for YOU from this article, and leave the rest.

A woman walks into a medical office…

Yes, menopause often starts like the first line of a bad joke.

It might begin with your period getting a little wonky.

Maybe it starts showing up late (or early). Or it’s longer (or shorter), more painful (or less painful), heavier (or lighter). And sometimes it doesn’t show up at all.

And it’s not just your period.

Whatever your “normal” is starts changing.

Sleep deceives you.

Like a fickle ghost, it visits only at random points in the night.

Your temperature is weird too.

You might find yourself going for a walk in the middle of winter and having to tear your scarf off and unzip your jacket, your neck literally steaming.

You might be a little moodier than usual.

Yesterday at the drugstore, you became enraged because you couldn’t find the toilet paper brand you wanted. I can’t use this sandpaper! you howled at the confused clerk, and stormed out.

Maybe you’ve heard about these symptoms before. From girlfriends, from your older sister, from Googling late at night when you can’t sleep… again.

So you make an appointment with your doctor.

You sit down with your doctor and tell them about your symptoms:

“Hey doc, my vagina is chafing and feels like fire… just kidding… unless you know what to do about that?”

“Hey doc, let’s say someone bled for 17 days last month. Is that normal? I’m asking for, er, a friend.”

“Hey doc, yesterday at the gym, mid-squat, I peed a little. It also happens when I cough, laugh, orgasm, jump, or yell at my dog in a sudden fit of fathomless rage.”

Your doctor tells you these symptoms are consistent with perimenopause.

Wait, what? You’re only 38! You thought hormone stuff was for, like, your mom.

There’s no single start or end point for menopause.

You might look back on one moment in your life as “the time I realized I was a grown-up”.

Holding that first retirement fund receipt. Buying clothes for quality stitching, not style. Keeping an orchid alive for more than 8 weeks.

But biology operates on a continuum. That means there’s no single moment when menopause (or perimenopause) begins.

In general, physiological processes and systems are complex and ever-changing.

They ebb and flow from moment to moment, and year to year.

That means:

Menopause is a dynamic and responsive process, not a single event.

And it may show up when you’re not expecting it.

Just as we go through puberty at different ages, perimenopause and menopause kick in at different times, too. Usually, perimenopause begins in a woman’s 40s (although it can happen as early as her 30s), and menopause can happen anytime between a woman’s 40s and 60s.

The exact timing varies for each woman. It’s is kind of like a repair person who says they’ll be there between 9am and 8pm — a bit hard to predict.

That said, there are some distinct hormonal stages, which generally work as a linear process. Our first major hormonal event is that zit-sprouting, growth-spurting, heart-palpitating time — puberty!

When we hit puberty, our hormonal factories open for business.

In our reproductive years, a complex symphony of hormonal feedback loops occurs approximately once a month.

Our brain sends a signal to our ovaries, which respond by increasing production of the reproductive hormones estrogen and progesterone and other related hormones. We ovulate, build a uterine lining, shed it, and begin the cycle again.

Over and over, these hormonal feedback loops carefully coordinate to ensure that the uterus can support a fetus.

Hormones are pulsatile (meaning they’re released in bursts), and strongly affected by a variety of factors.

Hormones levels rise and drop at varied points during each monthly menstrual cycle.

At some point, the feedback loops start to change subtly.

Perimenopause is the time before menopause.

As women age, their ovaries gradually start producing less estrogen, progesterone, and other related hormones.

However, this isn’t a linear or steadily progressive process.

Just like during reproductive cycles in the years prior, hormone levels vary throughout menopause.

Hormone levels don’t drop all at once; they fluctuate throughout mid-life.

Just like within a reproductive cycle, in perimenopause there are hormonal ups and downs, which create (or contribute to) the seemingly random and unpredictable physical and psychological manifestations we experience.

This stage can be as short as a few years, or longer than a decade.

Menopause marks the end of menstrual cycles.

“Officially”, menopause occurs when a woman hasn’t had a period for 12 months in a row. But there are different ways menopause can occur:

“Natural” menopause: When estrogen, progesterone, and other gonadal hormones (our reproductive / sex hormones) decline on their own as a result of aging.

Premature (or early) menopause: When menopause occurs before the age of 40. Sometimes, we don’t know why this happens. Other times, there are known risk factors, including medical conditions like diabetes or hypothyroidism; certain medications; pituitary damage from brain trauma (e.g. a history of concussions); smoking; or genetic inheritance.

Artificial menopause: When menopause occurs when ovaries are removed or damaged (for example, by some types of cancer treatments). Because of the sudden drop in hormones, menopause symptoms begin abruptly and may be more severe than other versions of menopause.

In women without a uterus, menopause can be identified by very high levels of follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH), which shows that the brain is telling the ovaries to increase production, but the ovaries aren’t listening. High FSH occurs in all women during menopause.

Postmenopause describes the phase after menopause.

At this point, hormonal fluctuations have leveled out, gonadal hormone production has shut down, and levels of most reproductive hormones are now relatively low.

Hormonal changes drive these shifts.

But what does “hormonal change” even mean? And what do hormones do?

Hormones signal our body to do stuff.

Most hormones act widely throughout the body. So, our reproductive hormones don’t just affect our reproductive organs.

Hormones impact how we feel, behave, function, and more.

When hormones change, we change too.

Hormones are complex, and everyone’s are a little different.

When we say “hormones”, what we’re really describing are dozens, if not hundreds, of bioactive chemical compounds that make up complex signalling networks in our bodies.

For instance, “estrogen” is more accurately “estrogens”:

estrone (E1);

estradiol (E2);

estriol (E3); and

several other molecules that have estrogenic activity (in other words, that act somewhat like estrogen does).

And along with our gonadal hormones, we also have many other key hormonal systems, such as:

thyroid hormones;

neurotransmitters (e.g. serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin);

gastrointestinal hormones such as insulin;

adipose (fat) tissue hormones such as leptin.

Then, there are other cell signalling molecules, known as cytokines, which play with hormones.

All of these molecules interact with each other, and all are governed by our genetic and epigenetic expression, as well as various other factors.

Each one of us has a unique, ever-changing “hormone fingerprint”.

This means that menopause is not as simple as flipping an estrogen on-off switch, and everyone’s hormones are affected by their unique genetics.

That’s part of why menopause is such a different experience from person to person.

Hormones change for many reasons.

While all of the interactions of our reproductive systems are far too complex to predict, one thing is clear:

The hormonal phenomena and experience of perimenopause, menopause, and postmenopause are all strongly affected by other factors.

We have the power to influence our hormones through our mindset and lifestyle.

Some things, like what we choose to eat, how we work out, or what meaning we make from our experiences, we can control. Others, like our genes, or how often our bedmate disrupts our sleep with their snoring, we can’t.

Here are the changes you may notice during menopause, plus what can help.

Symptoms of hormonal changes might show up consistently, intermittently, or rarely.

They might be intense or barely noticeable.

But remember:

Each woman’s experience is unique.

These changes aren’t “just” biological. They’re also closely linked to our thoughts, feelings, relationships, and environments.

Many of these symptoms aren’t inevitable. Your environment and behaviors can, to some degree, affect the outcome.

There’s only one given: Endogenous (self-generated) sex hormone production will decline. Everything else is like that randomly appearing repair person: Don’t plan your day around it.

Bladder

Decreased estrogen can lead to a reduced ability to control the urinary tract. You may have to pee more often, get more bladder infections, and have trouble controlling your bladder as pelvic muscles weaken due to aging.

What can help:

Exercises from a pelvic physiotherapist to rehabilitate and prevent stress incontinence (when physical stress — such as coughing, sneezing, or laughing — causes an involuntary loss of urine)

A vaginal pessary (a removable device that you insert into the vagina that supports pelvic organs) recommended by your doctor, especially if you have uterine prolapse

Staying hydrated, peeing after sex, and supplementing a simple, safe carbohydrate known as D-mannose dramatically reduces bladder infections

Body composition

Changing hormones also lead to changing shape.

Lean mass (muscle, bone, and connective tissues) goes down while body fat goes up, a phenomenon known as sarcopenia.

You might notice more fat around your middle and lower belly in particular.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Regular exercise

Hormone replacement therapy (which may decrease abdominal fat), if you choose to take it

Hormone replacement therapy

About 15 to 25 percent of women find their menopause symptoms so severe that they need hormone replacement therapy (HRT), which usually involves some combination of prescription bioidentical (i.e. just like the molecules our bodies make) estrogen and progestogen pills, patches, creams, or injections.

Most menopause symptoms are triggered by a sudden drop of estrogen, rather than a lack of estrogen overall. HRT that includes estrogen may stabilize levels and alleviate symptoms of menopause.

Because HRT has some risks, choosing it as a therapy depends on a woman’s personal medical history, family medical history, age, and symptom severity. All of these factors should be discussed with a doctor.

Benefits of HRT include relief from symptoms like hot flashes, vaginal dryness and thinning, sleep disruption, and low libido. Increased estrogen also means a better chance of preventing postmenopausal osteoporosis and fractures.

Unfortunately, HRT may also increase the risk of cancer (especially breast cancer) as well as heart attack, stroke, and blood clots.

For now, both the medical community and the research support short-term use of HRT to treat moderate to severe symptoms in healthy women in early menopause. Short-term use of low-dose HRT in healthy women (who have no specific contraindications) does not show increased risk of coronary heart disease, clotting disease, or specific cancers.

As an alternative to HRT, regular exercise, calcium, and vitamin D also play protective roles in maintaining healthy bones.

Anti-inflammatory and antioxidant-rich foods such as fresh fruits and vegetables, and phytoestrogenic foods such as soy and omega-3 rich flaxseeds may help to alleviate the severity and frequency of hot flashes.

If you’re suffering from moderate to severe symptoms of perimenopause / menopause, discuss your options with your doctor or another trusted healthcare practitioner.

Brain function

Hormones can affect thinking, reasoning, perception, and memory. Many women notice “brain fog” or trouble remembering things with declining hormones.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Managing stress

Regular exercise (as exercise boosts brain function due to the effects of increased blood flow as well as elevated brain chemicals such as BDNF, which is involved in learning and memory)

Getting enough sleep, if possible

Breast health

Breasts and nipples may become more lumpy and tender. You’re also now at a higher risk for breast cancer.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Regular exercise

Limiting alcohol consumption

Limiting or discontinuing use of medications that contribute to breast tenderness, like hormone replacement therapy, hormonal birth control, and some types of antidepressants

Digestion and bowel function

We tend to make less of our digestive enzymes and stomach acid as we age. Our smooth muscle tissue and intestinal absorption isn’t as peppy as it used to be.

This means you may notice changes in appetite, digestion, and bowel function. Heartburn, gas, and constipation might become your dinner companions more and more.

You may notice new food intolerances and sensitivities. Red wine?! Avocado? Really??

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Good bowel habits

Disease risk

“Female hormones” typically lower our risk of chronic diseases, such as cardiovascular disease, cancer, and so on… at least, until they run out. Then, our risk of these chronic diseases becomes greater.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Regular exercise

Managing stress

Hormone replacement therapy, depending on the type of hormones prescribed, what age you start, and other risk factors (HRT also may increase risk for other diseases)

Dizziness / vertigo

Dizziness can occur with changes in how your brain regulates blood pressure (see temperature regulation below).

Women may also notice cyclical benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV), a sensation of spinning or dizziness occurring when their head is in particular positions, or when lying down or turning over. While we don’t completely know why this happens, researchers think that declining estrogen weakens the protein matrix that makes up our vestibular (balance) system in our inner ear.

Dizziness can also be related to migraines.

What can help:

Staying hydrated, as changes in hydration and sodium levels can affect dizziness and vertigo

Discontinuing medications that contribute to dizziness and vertigo, such as sedatives

Balance training

Two simple exercises: the Epley maneuver, or the half-somersault maneuver designed by Dr. Carol Foster, who created it to treat her own vertigo

Hair

Hair may grow more in some places (like on the face), and less in others (scalp, lower legs, armpits, pubic region).

What the heck, biology?

What can help:

Hormone replacement therapy (for hair loss)

Unwanted hair is one challenge our society has solved pretty well. To the wax mobile!

Menstrual cycles

Obviously, menstrual cycles change. They may become more or less frequent, heavier or lighter, more or less painful. Sometimes, they may be astonishingly heavy, like “Hahaha, Super Plus tampon, I will take you DOWN” heavy.

While you can’t do much to affect menstrual frequency or duration, nor the eventual end of menstruation, you can often improve related symptoms, like cramps.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Regular exercise

Migraines / headaches

Migraines can be stunningly painful or completely painless. For example, with “aura migraines” or ocular migraines, you might see the characteristic sparkling or flashing visuals of a regular migraine without pain. These are typically harmless and resolve in about 20-30 minutes. Other times, a migraine can make you want to submit yourself to a guillotine.

Hormonal fluctuations during perimenopause and menopause can exacerbate headaches and migraines, although these seem to settle after menopause.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Keeping a “trigger diary”, which may help you notice that certain things (such as what you eat or your stress levels) make a migraine more likely

Hormone replacement therapy or hormonal birth control (for those in perimenopause) may also affect headaches / migraines

Mood and mental health

Mental health covers a wide range of feelings, experiences, and domains, but in general, you might notice:

More depression, “blahs”, emotional flatness, trouble “getting motivated”

A sense of overwhelm or “it’s all too much”

Feeling more irritable or less able to deal with small hassles

Feeling more anxious, worried, fearful, or risk-averse

Feeling distracted and/or preoccupied, having racing thoughts

Crying or other emotional outbursts that happen more often, more unexpectedly, and/or more intensely

More mood swings, and/or stronger swings

More intense emotions, positive or negative

Everyone around you has suddenly turned into a jerk

These mood changes can be attributed to not just variation in hormone levels, but also all the other biopsychosocial shifts that happen during menopause.

For instance, you may have good reasons for those mood swings. Maybe it is all too much, and this is a signal to make some important changes in your life choices, relationships, workload, etc.

What can help:

Managing stress

Counseling and/or coaching

A good social support network

In consultation with your doctor, medication like antidepressants

Pain and inflammation

Progesterone and estrogen are linked to pain and inflammation.

As sex hormones decline, you may notice changes in muscle pain, arthritis, other types of joint pain, pelvic pain, or flare-ups of other chronic pain concerns.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Regular exercise

Limiting alcohol consumption

Managing stress

Prioritizing sleep and recovery

Non-pharmaceutical pain treatments, such as acupuncture, that work by “distracting” nociceptors (pain nerves)

Relaxation and mindfulness training, which has been shown to help with how we experience pain

Sexual function

As estrogen and progesterone decline, the vaginal and urethral epithelium (lining) thins and becomes less elastic. Additionally, lubrication decreases, so the vagina will be drier.

This means that penetration can cause burning, itching, and a feeling like sandpaper on a sunburn.

Libido fluctuates. You may feel more liberated and sexy at midlife — many women say they’re having the greatest sex of their life, because they’re so much more confident, experienced, and assertive.

Or, you may feel like you don’t want anyone touching you, and would give up sex for sleep or chocolate 100 percent of the time.

What can help:

Managing stress

Doctor-prescribed estrogen creams or lubricants that you can apply to the vaginal area in order to reduce chafing, dryness, and tissue thinning

For a non-hormonal option, one study showed that a vaginal gel containing hyaluronic acid (a natural compound involved in tissue repair and moisture regulation) was nearly as effective as estrogen cream at reducing symptoms of vaginal dryness

Although vaginal tissue atrophies as a result of declining estrogen, the clitoris shows no such signs of stepping down from its position of pleasure glory. Just sayin’.

Skin

You may notice your skin getting drier or oilier as hormones shift. Perhaps you’re even getting some teenage-style acne.

Protein synthesis slows, so you’ll start to wrinkle, heal slower, and have less collagen. You’ll also likely lose fat from your face, and things will start to sag (because, gravity). You may notice changes in skin pigment.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Prioritizing recovery and sleep

Staying hydrated; not smoking; moderating sun and pollution exposure

Teeth

Your dentist might start making tsk-tsk noises about gum disease, receding gums, dry mouth, and so on.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

A good oral health routine (Make your dentist happy!)

Not smoking

Temperature regulation

Hot flashes are one of the most puzzling and annoying experiences of menopause.

About 85 percent of North American women report having hot flashes during perimenopause and menopause, and 10-15 percent of them say these temperature changes are so severe that they interfere with daily life.

On average, hot flashes persist for 3-5 years.

Most women describe a hot flash as a feeling of extreme warmth, usually in their upper body and face and lasting a few minutes. Night sweats, as the name implies, are hot flashes that happen at night — you wake up flushed and sweaty, often enough to soak through clothes or bed sheets.

Hot flashes and night sweats seem to be triggered by a sudden dips in estrogen levels, rather than declining estrogen overall.

Body temperature can also be affected by changes in the brain’s vasomotor center, which regulates your blood vessels, making them tighter (vasoconstriction) or more open (vasodilation). However, we still don’t know exactly how the change in estrogen levels affects the vasomotor center.

What can help:

Quality nutrition

Paced breathing exercises. Try it: Breathe in from the belly while slowly counting to 5. Then, release the breath while slowly counting to 5. Practice this every day for 10-15 minutes. When a hot flash hits, start paced breathing and continue it for 5 minutes. Bonus: Paced breathing may also help lower blood pressure, decrease anxiety, and promote relaxation.

Aging is part of life.

In biology, cells senesce — they naturally deteriorate and decline with age.

We can speed this process up, or slow it down, but (for now) we haven’t quite figured out how to stop it altogether.

One thing we do know?

The changes that come with aging — like menopause — are not just in a physiological vacuum.

In other words, the changes we experience during menopause are not just tied to what’s going on with our bodies. Our mindset, the people we spend time with, and the life changes we’re experiencing matter, too.

Life changes are biospsychosocial.

When we experience life changes, they’re due to a complex interaction of the biological, the psychological, and the social dimensions of our lives.

For instance, many of our female nutrition coaching clients are tireless workers and caregivers — whether that’s at work, home, school, or out in the world.

The women we speak to are trying get their kids to school AND write their thesis AND deadlift with proper form AND visit Aunt Ruby who’s recovering from her hip replacement AND remember to vote AND stir the pasta sauce that’s about to bubble over on the stove.

So, if a woman feels fatigue or mood swings — two symptoms of perimenopause or menopause — what’s the “real” reason?

Hormones?

Stress?

Other people?

Not chanting enough positive affirmations?

The answer may be “several of the above” (but probably not the last one).

Often, menopause coincides with other life changes.

These can include:

The “empty nest” phase. If you have kids, they usually move out (eventually). Suddenly, your focus shifts from offspring-rearing to… what?

Relationship adjustments. If you have a partner, they’re getting older too. Or maybe you’re grappling with divorce, coming out, or starting to date again.

Aging parents. If you have parents (or older relatives) who are alive, they may be dealing with health problems or need more attention.

Work burnout. You gave at the office… and gave, and gave. What was an inspiring career path at 30 now feels like a joyless death march at 50.

A desire for change. You may not have the feverish energy that you used to, but you may find yourself thinking about beginnings: new careers*, new relationships, new places to live.

*Fun fact: Nearly 10 percent of our Precision Nutrition Certification students start a new career at midlife. In fact, one of the authors of this article, Pamela Ruhland, went back to university at 45, did her PN Certification at 48, and was then hired to be an in-house coach with PN on the eve of her 50th birthday!

All these shifts in identity, responsibility, and interest may feel a little disorienting.

But they also create openings for positive change.

Menopause is a great time to build new healthy habits — and maintain current ones.

Many women say middle age is a time of empowerment.

During this period of life, some things die (such as our simplistic youthful illusions, or any desire to wear a crop top).

But new things will grow — fresh identities, opportunities, possibilities.

Women say they feel:

More authentic: They care less about what others think and feel more free to be themselves.

More courageous: They’ve been through it all, so why not?

Less willing to tolerate BS: They’ve put up with crap long enough. They reclaim their time.

Experiences, even difficult ones, bring insight, wisdom, and resilience.

By midlife, we’ve built a nice set of life skills, and we’re looking to use them in new ways.

If you’re going through perimenopause or menopause, you probably won’t like all the changes you’re experiencing.

But remember that that bidirectional relationship between your hormones and the rest of your body that we described earlier?

Just as hormonal changes can affect your sleep, body composition, mental health, and more, your daily habits can impact how strongly you feel the impact of those hormonal shifts.

You’ve got power, lady.

6 lifestyle strategies that can help alleviate menopause symptoms.

Strategy #1: Prioritize quality nutrition.

At this point in life, you may be ready to say goodbye to 10-day cucumber cleanses, fad diets, and get-fit-quick plans. We say: Right on!

And here’s some very good news:

Good nutrition can ease or even alleviate much of the discomfort of midlife physical changes, plus it’ll help you maintain a healthy body composition.

Many of our clients find that through quality nutrition, they can manage their appetite and improve their digestion and bowel habits. (‘Cause no matter how old you are, a good poop is still terrific.)

Prioritizing good nutrition can also decrease disease risk, help manage symptoms of changing menstrual cycles, reduce inflammation (and inflammation-related pain), improve skin quality, and promote dental health.

How to do it:

Most of us are busy, rushed, and hovering over our keyboard as we eat our tuna salad. Slow down and pay attention. This will help you know when you’re truly physically hungry, and when you’ve eaten the amount your body needs.

It’ll also help to alleviate digestive upset like bloating and heartburn, which are really just your body’s way of avenging that spicy calzone you just ate in 17 seconds.

If good nutrition is a goal, consider:

Carbohydrates: Eat 1-2 cupped handfuls of slow-digesting, high-fiber carbohydrates at most meals, unless you have a reason not to do so (e.g. an aggressive intervention to manage your blood sugar).

Protein: Evidence suggests that our protein needs go up, not down, as we age. More protein means more lean mass and better bone density, especially if you’re also doing resistance training. Shoot for at least 1 palm-sized portion of protein at most meals. More protein can also help with skin quality as we age. Here’s more advice.

Phytoestrogens: The research on phytoestrogens in food (such as soy) suggests that they may help with hot flashes… or they may not. In other words, it’s not entirely clear. Feel free to experiment with adding soy to your diet, especially more traditional versions like fresh edamame, miso, and tempeh. These are consumed in Japan, China, and other Southeast Asian countries, where women have much lower rates of hot flashes.

If you have a family history of breast cancer and/or the BRCA gene, check with your doctor before adding estrogenic foods.

Hydration: Drink plenty of water and keep your salt intake moderate. This can help with water retention and breast tenderness, which can fluctuate over your cycle, as well as skin quality.

Vitamin D: Some evidence suggests that vitamin D can lessen perimenopausal and menopausal symptoms. Get your D levels checked, and if they’re low, either book that tropical vacation you’ve always wanted (hey, it’s for medical reasons), or supplement. Vitamin D is also important for maintaining bone health.

Caffeine: Notice whether caffeine in coffee, tea, energy drinks, dark chocolate or medications (such as painkillers) triggers or exacerbates any symptoms you have, such as breast tenderness or migraines. Experiment with reducing or avoiding caffeine to see if it’s worth the trade-off.

Flaxseed: Flaxseeds are rich in plant compounds called lignans. With the help of intestinal bacteria, lignans can be converted to weak estrogens (enterodiol and enterolactone) which may help reduce menopausal symptoms.

Omega-3 fatty acids: Omega-3 fatty acids (2-6 grams a day) may help with some symptoms, like hot flashes, depressive symptoms, and memory decline. There also may be added benefit to starting supplementation before the onset of perimenopause, although the research is unclear. Including high-quality fats in your diet may also help with skin changes.

Iron: If you’ve stopped menstruating, you’ll need less iron (down to about 8 mg a day), unless you’re doing something else that increases iron needs, like Ultimate Fighting. (Pfff, after 30 odd years of monthly bloodshed, a nosebleed doesn’t even make you blink.)

Calcium: For bone health, calcium needs increase during menopause to about 1200 mg a day, preferably from food sources such as quality dairy products; cooked dark leafy greens; bone-in canned salmon or sardines; or calcium-fortified foods.

Magnesium: Magnesium is important for calcium metabolism and also helps preserve bone health. Supplemental magnesium (200 – 400 mg / day) may also help alleviate hormone-related cramps and migraines.

Strategy #2: Approach alcohol intake mindfully.

The image of middle-aged women who love wine has become a cultural cliché.

You’ve seen the t-shirts at those tacky souvenir shops. “Wine is for women what duct tape is for men: It fixes everything!” they read in bold pink letters.

But although a buttery Chardonnay goes nicely with fish, it doesn’t necessarily pair well with our bodies, especially as we age and our livers become less efficient at processing it.

Limiting alcohol consumption may help reduce inflammation, as well as your risk of breast cancer and other diseases.

How to do it:

Notice where, when, how, and with whom you drink. Are there certain triggers — like work functions, or your friend Marie — that always seem to end with you having a strong urge to dance on (or lie under) the table?

Notice what happens if you think about (or actually do) stop drinking for a week or two.

There’s no “right” amount to drink. You may choose to drink less for your health, or you may drink more because you genuinely enjoy it and want to prioritize pleasure.

Either way, drinking should always be a calm and conscious choice, rather than an obligation or compulsion.

Strategy #3: Commit to regular exercise that you truly enjoy.

Exercise (moving at moderate intensity 2-4 times per week for 30-60 minutes per session) seems to help with menopausal symptoms like cramps associated with changing menstrual cycles and inflammation, though it varies from woman to woman.

Women who have lower fitness levels going into exercise sessions may be less likely to see a benefit, which has made interpreting the impact of exercise more difficult.

Still, regular exercise is your best shot at having a healthy, strong, functional body composition. This means lots of protective lean mass (like strong muscles and bones) and less body fat (especially the more risky stuff around your internal organs, called visceral fat). It also means a lower risk of disease, including breast cancer.

How to do it:

You may have less time to exercise right now, which means you’ll have to get creative about squeezing in movement when you can.

Or maybe you have more time. Your 20-year-old son may still live at home but it’s time he does his own laundry… because you’re off to Zumba.

Here are some guidelines to consider for exercising during menopause:

If you still love intense workouts, recognize that you’ll need more recovery. And have a good physiotherapist on speed dial.

Whether it’s a full yoga routine or simply a 5-minute mobility warmup, make sure to include regular joint mobility / injury-prevention type movements to keep joints lubricated and flexible.

Do some weight-bearing movements / resistance training at least 2-3 times a week. This tells your bones, muscles, and connective tissues that you need them to stay dense and strong.

Start where you are. If you’re just picking up an exercise habit for the first time in midlife, start gently. In women who are sedentary, yoga may be a good activity to start with and has been shown to improve quality of life in menopausal women.

Consider making it social. Many of us are more likely to stick with things if we have accountability, support, and community. Join a class or group, or find a workout buddy. Or get a dog. Their toilet is outside, so they’re always motivated for a walk.

Keep cool. Your body is having a tough time regulating your temperature, so exercise in a cool place and drink cool fluids.

Consult with a physiotherapist who specializes in pelvic rehab if you’re noticing you’re peeing during squats, jump rope, or other movements, or if you’re having pelvic pain under load.

If you use a trainer / coach, make sure they understand how to train a body at midlife. They should be able to balance challenge with respect for any limitations you have.

Have fun. That’s an order.

Strategy #4: Practice self-compassion, especially when it comes to your body.

When your sleep is disrupted by a hot flash that rivals the fires of Mount Vesuvius, or when you’re urging your hips into jeans that used to feel roomy and now feel like sausage casings, it’s understandable to feel angry and frustrated. Or even sad.

At midlife, you will put on more body fat. As ovarian production of estradiol (a type of estrogen) shuts down, our body relies on our adipose (fat) tissue (along with a few other types of tissue) to produce similar hormones.

We actually need that extra bump in our rump to keep us healthy as we age.

And it turns out, there’s a “sweet spot” for our body composition.

While having enough body fat will maintain hormonal health, too much body fat increases our risk of estrogen-dependent cancers (e.g. ovarian and breast cancer) as well as other metabolic diseases.

So, it’s important for your health to be conscious of your body composition, but it’s also key to make peace with your body as it is now.

How to do it:

Forget about the celebrities that somehow look 25 when they’re 55. They pay a team of surgeons, personal trainers, stylists, and magical wizards to keep them camera-ready.

Define what “fitness” and “health” mean for you.

Decide what you value, in terms of your physical self.

Maybe you value strength more than aesthetics, and maybe you don’t. (Although it does feel good to know you can open any pickle jar life throws at you.)

Your body will change. You will look different. Whatever you feel you’ve lost, mourn it.

Punch and cry snottily into your pillow. Burn an effigy. Do whatever you need to do to herald the end of the old and the beginning of now.

Then, consider what a sane, realistic, and achievable set of expectations and goals for yourself look like right now. (If you aren’t sure, check out The Cost of Getting Lean.)

Approach these goals with self-compassion rather than self-criticism.

Strategy #5: Prioritize and schedule recovery and sleep.

When things don’t go the way we want, most of us do more and push harder.

For example, if your waistline has changed despite being a regular exerciser and mindful eater, you may (understandably) think it makes sense to add more and higher intensity exercise, combined with less food on your plate.

Grrr, that should do it.

But it doesn’t.

While you may not think of exercise as a stressor, it is.

Exercise requires your body to work harder. And work = stress (even when it’s “good” stress.)

With every stressor you add on, you also need proportionate recovery from it.

Restricting food is also a stressor. Women who worry about limiting food intake to manage body weight tend to have higher levels of cortisol, a stress hormone, than women who don’t.

Add that to the sleep disruptions so common in menopause (between 40-60 percent of women going through menopause have poor sleep quality or insomnia), and your “stress bucket” is getting pretty full.

Lower estrogen levels also means your body has a decreased capacity to deal with stress. That bucket fills up quicker than it used to.

Even though many stressors are good for us (like exercise, learning, and change), they only make us stronger if we give ourselves the chance to recover from them.

Not getting enough recovery and sleep can also contribute to pain, inflammation, and age-related skin changes.

How do to it:

Check in with yourself. Are you exhausted? Are your workouts feeling like a heavy slog?

If so, try this radical idea: Take a week off from the gym. Focus on activities that are less intense and more pleasurable. Like taking your dog for a walk in the park, or paddling around in the pool.

When you go back to the gym, notice how you feel. Do you have more energy? Or a renewed sense of interest? Are your muscles feeling stronger or less achey?

Play around with exercise frequency and intensity. Try reducing the number of sessions a week or decreasing the intensity of a few sessions. Replace some higher intensity weight training or cardio sessions with lower intensity sessions like yoga or long walks.

Every month or so, schedule a “recovery week”. For that week, decrease exercise volume, or skip the gym altogether and just engage in gentler movement like stretching, foam rolling, tai chi, or quiet hikes in nature.

Sleep is also a key part of recovery. If you have difficulty sleeping, here are some things to try:

See what you can do to reduce hot flashes, which can disrupt sleep.

Practice good sleep hygiene.

See a therapist who specializes in sleep. Cognitive behavioral therapy or hypnosis designed specifically for insomnia can be effective.

Try exercise like yoga, weight training, or brisk walks, which can improve chronic insomnia in perimenopausal women.

Experiment with natural remedies like valerian root, tart cherry juice, and isoflavones (from soy), which may improve sleep.

Talk to your doctor. Certain prescription medications, such as hormone replacement therapy or low-dose SSRI’s can help.

Get a massage. Because anything that makes you drool from bliss and relaxation is good.

Many women even opt for a separate bedroom if they have a partner whose flailing and snoring is making their already-fragile sleep unworkable.

Strategy #6: Take steps to manage your stress.

You may find that, compared to your younger years, you just don’t care as much about what people think of you. This can be hugely stress-relieving.

But thanks to all the changes you’re going through, you may also be dealing with feelings you’re not used to, sometimes swinging wildly.

Unmanaged stress can have a negative impact on your sex life, brain function, pain and inflammation, and overall disease risk — not to mention your overall quality of life.

How to do it:

Coaching or counseling, mindfulness or relaxation practices, and other mental health strategies can dramatically improve your existing mental health or preserve the wellbeing you have. Mindfulness and relaxation practices can also help manage pain.

If the mood fluctuations or psychological distress are severe and causing problems with your daily-life function, consider consulting a mental health professional. For instance:

You might consider getting coaching or counseling.

You might consider speaking to your doctor or psychiatrist about antidepressant or anti-anxiety medication.

Also discuss these feelings with your doctor or psychiatrist if you’re on hormone replacement therapy.

Your mental state also affects your sexuality.

Setting aside time for yourself, learning to have healthy relationships, and practicing good “intimacy habits” can also help you feel juicy and sexy. Consider looking at other factors in your life and relationships to see if you can bring some calm, joy, and ooh-la-la back.

Speaking of relationships, consider which ones are serving you right now. Are there any relationships that you need to let go of, or adjust so that they feel healthier?

At this point in life, it’s helpful to be willing to let go of (and grieve, if necessary) old patterns and identities. Maybe your primary identity used to be “Mom”, and that doesn’t fit as well anymore now that your kids have moved out and you’re itching for adventure.

Be open to stepping into new versions of yourself and new ways of relating.

Menopause can be a gift… it kinda means you “made it”.

Many of our prehistoric ancestresses didn’t survive past the age of 40.

In some ways, making it past the childbearing years and into the “wise elder” years is a luxury.

While men can theoretically reproduce until they die (um, not that we’re recommending that), menopause signals the end of a woman’s ability to have children.

It’s kinda like nature is telling us, “Nah, it’s time for you to do you now. The rest of your life is for you.”

Hm. Why thank you, Mother Nature.

What will you do with that gift, that wide open space of possibility?

What to do next: Some tips from Precision Nutrition

Don’t worry about fixing everything… or anything.

Remember, you aren’t broken.

Menopause is a normal, inevitable, adaptive stage of womanhood.

You’re totally allowed to sink into the hammock of biology and let your body work this out without intervention.

If you are considering positive changes to feel better, pick one small thing at a time.

Practice that change consistently, then add on more if / when you feel ready.

Keep a journal of your experience.

Write your own Owner’s Manual. You’re the expert on you.

If you have a symptom that’s especially vexing, consider tracking it and notice any patterns. For example, you may notice that when you have coffee, your cramps are worse. Or every time you watch CNN, you get a hot flash.

Get to know the natural rhythms of your body over time by gently and non-judgmentally noticing and recording what comes up.

Use your emotions as tools (instead of being possessed by them).

Just like puberty, menopause is a time of intense hormonal flux, and corresponding emotional and physical changes.

But unlike your 15-year-old self, you are now a grown-up ladyperson, and you can choose to make use of the feelings that come up, instead of being owned by them.

When sadness comes up, you might look at what you need to grieve or let go of. When anger comes up, you might look at what needs to be protected or spoken up for. When fear comes up, you might look at what needs to be reassured or supported.

Use your emotions as tools to learn more about yourself, and to create a life that feels good for you.

Talk to other women.

Whether it’s a coach, a wise mentor, your mom, a friend, or that lady at the gym who just seems friendly and healthy, find and talk to older women about their experiences.

Not only will this give you practical advice (“Always dress in layers; never wear a pleather unitard”), it will also give you a feeling of support, normalcy, and sisterhood.

Several Precision Nutrition coaches have personal experience with perimenopause / menopause, or at least have coached hundreds of women through it.

Distribute your “craps given” wisely.

Perimenopause and menopause, with all its changes, may feel a little overwhelming for some.

Which is why you’re allowed to take some things off your plate.

Maybe you don’t give a crap anymore about “always being polite”.

Maybe you don’t give a crap anymore about fitting into a size X dress.

Maybe you don’t give a crap anymore about achieving “eternally youthful skin”.

You’re allowed to not care about whatever you don’t want to care about anymore.

Leave your caring for stuff you really care about.

Assemble your support team.

Think of the kind of support you need to be your best self at this stage of life.

You’ll probably want some loving friends or family members to talk to or reassure you.

A good family doctor or OBGYN you feel comfortable discussing all the gory bits helps too.

Add on whatever else you need, such as:

A physiotherapist to help your pelvic muscles perform.

A trainer to help you move safely and joyfully. (Maybe a boxing coach who can help you channel that pent-up rage healthily.)

A coach or therapist to talk through difficult feelings.

A naturopath, nutritionist, or dietician to help you figure out what foods will support your health.

A “menopause mentor” who will remind you that you’re not going crazy.

And so on.

Gather your posse, and conquer.

If you’re a coach, or you want to be…

Learning how to coach clients, patients, friends, or family members through healthy eating and lifestyle changes through all life stages — including menopause — is an art and a science.

If you’d like to learn more about both, consider the Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification. The next group kicks off shortly.

What’s it all about?

The Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification is the world’s most respected nutrition education program. It gives you the knowledge, systems, and tools you need to really understand how food influences a person’s health and fitness. Plus the ability to turn that knowledge into a thriving coaching practice.

Developed over 15 years, and proven with over 100,000 clients and patients, the Level 1 curriculum stands alone as the authority on the science of nutrition and the art of coaching.

Whether you’re already mid-career, or just starting out, the Level 1 Certification is your springboard to a deeper understanding of nutrition, the authority to coach it, and the ability to turn what you know into results.

[Of course, if you’re already a student or graduate of the Level 1 Certification, check out our Level 2 Certification Master Class. It’s an exclusive, year-long mentorship designed for elite professionals looking to master the art of coaching and be part of the top 1% of health and fitness coaches in the world.]

Interested? Add your name to the presale list. You’ll save up to 33% and secure your spot 24 hours before everyone else.

We’ll be opening up spots in our next Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification on Wednesday, April 3rd, 2019.

If you want to find out more, we’ve set up the following presale list, which gives you two advantages.

Pay less than everyone else. We like to reward people who are eager to boost their credentials and are ready to commit to getting the education they need. So we’re offering a discount of up to 33% off the general price when you sign up for the presale list.

Sign up 24 hours before the general public and increase your chances of getting a spot. We only open the certification program twice per year. Due to high demand, spots in the program are limited and have historically sold out in a matter of hours. But when you sign up for the presale list, we’ll give you the opportunity to register a full 24 hours before anyone else.

If you’re ready for a deeper understanding of nutrition, the authority to coach it, and the ability to turn what you know into results… this is your chance to see what the world’s top professional nutrition coaching system can do for you.

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