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[sabinaakther90]

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[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 20 Prompt: Sick Day

Tags: Established Relationship, Mentions Of Past Parental Loss, Eddie Munson Needs A Hug, Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 1290 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve doesn’t get it.

He’s seen Eddie in worse shape.

Death knocking on his door, tubes, and machines keeping him alive. In spite of the shitty cards he was dealt, he always had a smile on his face — cracking jokes with the kids, charming his way into extra pudding cups and sides of mashed potatoes. Steve’s pretty sure they mourned the day he was finally released because he had a way of making even the crabbiest doctors smile.

If ever there was a time to be miserable and wallow in the pain it was then.

And yet, a winter cold has managed to knock Eddie on his ass, turning him into the most miserable, helpless version of himself.

Steve hates it.

Not because Eddie is whiney and dramatic (he’s both of those things on a good day), but because he doesn’t know what to do to help.

Days and nights blend together as Eddie stays sheltered in his bedroom. His bed is a nest of blankets and pillows — half the time he’s burrowed under them, no doubt making his fever worse, and the other half he’s propped up on pillows, desperately hoping the elevated position will ease his cough. A hoard of half-empty bowls of soups and napkins full of nibbled-on crackers are scattered on his nightstand along with the cold medicine Wayne picked up three (maybe, four?) days ago. The one Eddie refuses to take because it makes him feel worse.

His usual unruly curls are flattening by the second and his cheek has a near-permanent indentation of his wrinkled pillowcase at this point. If it weren’t for his frequent trips to the bathroom, Steve would be worried about muscle loss and blood clots on top of the hundred other ways he’s worrying about Eddie right now.

Steve’s tried everything. His grandmother’s chicken noodle soup, coaxing Eddie into a warm shower, even phoned Ms. Henderson to see if she had any home remedies he wasn’t thinking of. Nothing seems to be working.

At a loss, Steve tiptoes into Eddie’s room hoping to find him sleeping beneath the covers.

He’s not.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve coos. Toeing his shoes off, he pads his way over to the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the corner of the bed in search of Eddie’s legs. When he’s certain they’re not there, he sits. “What can I do to help?”

Eddie groans and presses the right side of his face deeper into the pillow. A single tear races down his cheek as he sniffles. “Could you just lie with me?” he croaks, voice horse from lack of use and the sore throat he’s been fighting for the last few days.

“Course, baby. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer and instead shuffles up the bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he kicks out his legs over the hoard of blankets and lets himself sink into the warm mattress. Once he’s situated, Eddie shifts until his back is pressed against Steve’s side. It’s weird feeling the heat that radiates from his body — he’s usually the one with cold hands and feet in the relationship.

“Didn’t want to get you sick,” Eddie mumbles eventually.

“Don’t mind getting sick, if it means you’ll feel better.” Steve means it. He would shoulder all the sickness and pain in the world if it meant that Eddie and everyone else he loves never had to feel anything but happy and healthy. If only the world worked like that. “Do you need anything?”

It’s silent in the room as Steve waits for Eddie’s response. So quiet, Steve wonders if maybe Eddie’s drifted to sleep and he’s waiting for a response that’s never going to come. But then Eddie shifts beside him, slowly rolling onto his other side so he can face him.

“I need my mom,” Eddie whispers just as the floodgates open, tear after tear falling from his eyes in that slow dramatic way they only do in movies. At least, Steve thought it only happened in movies.

His heart seizes in his chest as Eddie reaches for the soft sweater he’s wearing. Doesn’t complain when he buries his face into it, staining it with tears and snot and whatever else as Eddie’s body shakes under the weight of his tears.

Christ.

He doesn’t get it, not entirely. His own mother was never the nurturing type — she’d slap down medicine on his bedside table and leave a list of places she’d be if he needed to reach her, but that was it. Never once did she rest her hand against his forehead to check his temperature, let alone sit at his bedside.

But he knows Eddie’s mom would have done those things. Probably did do all those things judging by the way his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms right now.

Admittedly he doesn’t know much about Ms. Munson — he’s gathered it's hard for Eddie to talk about her. But he knows enough to know the world lost an incredibly kind soul way too early.

“Eds,” Steve sighs, scooting down until he’s lying down with Eddie firmly curled up on his chest. He gets both arms around him, squeezing him tighter. “I wish I could.”

“She always—” Eddie hiccups, wincing as the motion burns his already aching throat. “She always used to lie down with me. Run her fingers through my hair until her ring got caught in my curls. Then she’d move to tracing up and down my arm.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He lets one hand drift into Eddie’s tangled curls, scratching his scalp before gently carding his fingers through a few strands. His other hand ghosts up and down his arm, goosebumps erupting in his featherlight touches wake.

“Like this?”

Eddie melts under the contact, nuzzling deeper into the warmth of Steve’s sweater. “She made the best grilled cheese sandwich when I was sick. And she’d cut them in weird ways. Let me eat them in bed while she told some story she made up on the spot.”

“Well, m’no storyteller. But I can make a grilled cheese. Probably not as good as your mom's though.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he looks up. “She had a secret ingredient she never told me.”

“Bet it was love.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, shaking his head, “That’s lame.”

“Yeah, it is. She wouldn’t have had a lame secret ingredient.”

“She was the best,” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before they flutter open again. This time he wiggles out of Steve’s embrace and moves his head back to his pillow before grimacing at the wet stain left behind on Steve’s sweater. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Eds. S’just a sweater.”

“I know. I just…” he groans and rubs circles over his eyes with his fists. “I always miss her more when m’sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, pulling at him until Eddie’s back on his chest and his hand is back in his curls. “You can tell me about her, you know? Whenever you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

“Maybe when my throat doesn’t burn like Satan’s living room.”

Steve laughs.

There’s his boy.

“You know, that medicine over there might help with that,” Steve teases, gesturing to the untouched medicine.

Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust, shaking his head.

“Alright, you big baby,” Steve chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep then?”

“Will you stay?” Eddie asks, already fighting sleep judging by his fluttering eyelashes.

“Course I’ll stay,” he whispers. “I’ll even make you a grilled cheese when you wake up.”

“Full of love?”

“Yeah, Eds. Full of love.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

[joesheistyy]

Sniffle Prevention

You had a terrible cold. When it came to sickness, you were able to hold your own. Except, this time around, it was different.

Joe had been out at football practice, and you were at home miserable. You had been having a hard time sleeping and even just breathing in general. Joe had tried with the home remedies, but this one was stubborn.

When Joe got home from practice, the first thing he did was come check on you. You were laying in bed with some mega dark circles, a glass of cold water, a box of tissues, and your favorite throw blanket. Joe gave you a pout, seeing your miserable state.

"Are you feeling any better after taking meds?" He asked, coming over to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Nope, still miserable," you sniffled, "I tried sleeping again, but I feel like my own snot is suffocating me," you tried to let out a laugh, but your throat was sore from having to be a mouth breather.

“Is it mostly when you lay down?” He questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed facing you.

“Yeah, when I sit up it’s not as bad, but it still sucks,” you huffed, reaching for another tissue to try to clear your nose.

“Hmm, that’s difficult, isn’t it?” Joe gave you a soft smile as you nodded in response.

“I just wanna take a fucking nap or something. I’m so tired,” you groaned as Joe began to get up to go change from practice. He turned on the shower, suggesting one for yourself as well.

“Babe what about a warm bath? That might help clear you up,” he suggests after putting all his dirty clothes in the hamper of the bathroom.

“I mean that could be nice but I just feel like such ass,” you whined again, slowly moving to get out of bed.

“I think you should take one, I’ll get it started for you,” he said, starting the bath as his shower was still heating up. That’s one thing you both loved about the house. A nice big shower and a nice big tub. Separate from each other, but really nicely sized.

You submerged yourself in the water once it was ready and Joe hopped in the shower. You let your eyes close and your head tilt back in hopes of your sinuses draining even in the slightest. The warm water caused your body to relax a little bit, but your head still hurt from all the sniffling.

Joe hopped out of the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist. Was that one of the hottest things you had ever seen? It absolutely was. Joe loves it when you look at him the way you do when he wears a towel around his waist, but this day was different. He wanted you to feel better, no funny business.

“Any success in stuffy sniffle prevention?” He asks as he comes back in the bathroom after finding boxers and gym shorts.

“Once again, not really,” you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Damn baby, this is a tough one to crack,” he says, pulling your towel out of the towel warmer. You get out of the bath slowly while Joe wraps your towel around you, followed with his arms. He felt your body shiver from the cold air which caused him to pull your damp body in closer.

Joe helped you dry off and get comfy clothes on. You decided it was time to leave the stuffy bedroom for the first time all day. Anything to even try to lessen your symptoms.

Joe had made his way downstairs to make you some soup. You followed, walking toward the barstools to watch him at work in the kitchen. He made you a glass of water and scooted over a box of tissues for you.

While eating your soup, Joe cleaned up the bedroom and opened the window in hopes to make it a little less stuffy for you.

After you finished your soup, you set the bowl in the sink and headed back up to your room. You grabbed a new box of tissues and set them on your nightstand with your white Stanley tumbler filled with ice water.

Joe was laying in bed with open arms, welcoming you in. He had the switch turned on, getting ready to play super smash bros.

“Here babe, come sit on my lap. You can lean your head on my shoulder and sleep,” he said, pausing his game to allow you to climb on top of him.

This was one of those moments where sitting on his lap didn’t turn you on, it calmed you. You were able to get comfy, legs wrapping around his back and arms around his neck. Your head rested on the crook of his neck, still unable to smell his cologne because of congestion.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, looking at the screen ahead of him and spamming multiple buttons.

“Baby are you able to breathe a little better this way?” Joe asked, leaning to his left to give your cheek a kiss.

“A bit, yeah. I may fall asleep honestly,” you spoke with a sigh.

“Go ahead honey, I know you need some rest,” he said, nuzzling his head into yours to show some love to his sick baby.

“Are you sure?” You asked, leaning up to look toward his face briefly.

“Yes baby, I’m sure. You need to get a nap in or something, I can tell how tired you are,” he said, stroking your hair after pausing his game.

“Okay then, imma rest my head right here and try to sleep,” you said, nuzzling back into the crook of his neck.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes in hopes you could get even the slightest amount of sleep in. You were so tired after sleeping like shit the past few nights.

Joe continued smashing away at buttons, trying not to get too worked up over super smash bros. He knew his angel needed to sleep, and finding a comfortable way for you to sit up to breathe and to sleep comfortably at the same time was his ultimate goal.

As you dozed off, Joe kept quiet while playing his game. He dusted you in kisses and hugged you close, hoping that you’d soon be able to sleep soundly again. If this was all he could do to help you feel even the slightest bit better, he was all over it.

———

I hope y’all enjoyed this! I’ve had such a stubborn cold all week and while watching the game, my bf gave me a shot of everclear that I didn’t know was everclear cause I’ve been so badly congested 💀 so I hope the last bit of this makes sense cause I’m drunk and sitting by the toilet rn 🤣 I love y’all, thanks for almost 300 followers!!!

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[surrogate-fawn]

The Purple Butterfly

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory of a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's second surrogacy.))

{This drabble is Part 3 in a series of drabbles based on the story Mitty and I co-authored. This story will not make sense without reading the ones that come before it.}

[ Part 1 - The First Goodbye ]

[ Part 2 - Quartz and Sea Glass ]

[ Part 3 - Here! ]

Author's Note: A real-world initiative is mentioned in this story called The Purple Butterfly Project.

TW: Miscarriage, infertility, mentions of cancer, mentions of past abuse, pregnancy complications, past stillbirth/infant loss, grief and heavy emotional trauma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living with the Tariqs, I got to experience what it was like to be around a baby after it was born -- and every pounding headache that came with it. 

Suri was a little spitfire as soon as she hit the atmosphere, and if she was unhappy the whole house would know it. The farmhouse wasn't all that big, and the guest room where I slept ended up sharing a wall with the nursery. So, you can bet I got woken up each time her parents did. 

Those first couple nights, I would lay there in bed until Ray or Tess could stumble their way down the hall and quiet things down. Yeah, I wasn't very useful. I didn't have much of a choice, though. It was a miracle I could walk myself to the bathroom with how sore I was after Suri squirmed her way out of me. 

It wasn't just soreness from the waist-down, either. 

Being around a constantly crying newborn had an . . . unexpected effect on my body. After the birth of my son, aside from a little bit of colostrum, I had never produced breastmilk. I guess hearing Suri cry to be fed every few hours triggered something, because I suddenly had a full milk supply with nowhere to go. 

Luckily, the Tariqs had a home remedy for everything. A couple of wet washcloths over upturned bowls in the freezer made some conveniently-shaped ice packs. Without those puppies, it felt like my breasts were filled with molten lead. So, my hands were occupied most of the day. 

I felt guilty, watching either Ray or Tess get up from the couch to tend to their daughter while I was able to sit there with my hands on my boobs and continue watching TV.  

I wasn't Suri's parent, but the fact I was the one who got her there made me feel like I had to help out. 

Once I started to recover, that's exactly what I did. On a night when Suri refused to stop crying, I got up and poked my head through the cracked nursery door. 

Tess was there, looking exhausted and defeated as she held Suri on her shoulder. That baby had been screaming in her ear for at least half an hour. She jumped when she turned and saw me in the doorway. 

"Hi, Tess," I said with a sympathetic smile. 

"Hey, doll," Tess sighed, continuing to bounce Suri up and down while she paced the room. She spoke a little louder than she needed to, likely 'cause she couldn't hear herself think. "I'm sorry she woke 'ya. I got no idea what 'ta do." 

She sounded like she'd given up. This was how she was spending her night, and she'd resigned herself to it. 

I thought about waking Ray, but his paternity leave ended in the morning. He had to be up in a few hours for his civil engineering job. Even with what little I knew about salary work, I knew eight weeks of unpaid leave for a brand-new baby was bullshit. Ray would've taken the full twelve weeks, but the city was jumping down his throat about finishing the blueprints for an overpass project on-time. Tess was about to be left alone with a two-month-old for the sake of ten fewer minutes of traffic. That wasn't fair. 

"Tess, lemmie take her for a while," I said, walking into the room. "You need a break." 

"It's fine," Tess insisted. "She'll calm down . . . eventually." 

I held out my arms. "Tess. Give 'er." 

The purple bags under Tess's eyes made her look twice her age, and her pale yellow hair was a rat's nest hanging down her back. She was at her wit's end. "Okay." 

Suri weighed almost nothing as I settled her against my shoulder. It still amazed me how small babies were. They seemed so much smaller when you actually got to hold them. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked Suri. My ear started to ring as she wailed into it, her cries high-pitched and distressed. I started patting her back like I'd seen her parents do. "What's wrong, baby girl? What's got you so upset?" 

Tess collapsed into the glider in the corner of the nursery, her hands rubbing circles into her temples. "I've changed her. I've fed her. I've prayed over her. I've got no idea what my own baby needs!" 

"Well, I've got no idea, either," I shrugged, my toes digging into the soft sherpa rug by the crib. I continued patting Suri's back. Her feet were pressing against my chest, as if she were trying to pull herself upright. 

"But I'm supposed 'ta know!" Tess whimpered. She ran her fingers through the knots in her hair. "I'm her mama! Mamas are supposed 'ta know what 'ta do, but I can't even calm her down!" 

"You're not a bad mama, Tess," I said, offering her a smile -- despite the continued screaming in my ear. "Trust me, I know what a-." 

The screaming was cut short with a small 'gurk', and I froze when a wet glob of spit-up slithered down my back. 

". . . think I figured it out . . ." I said, my smile now pinched.  

Suri grumbled, and I carefully held her out in front of me. Her face was still red, but her expression was pure baby bliss -- milky spittle on her chin and all. 

"Did you have a tummy ache, baby girl?" I asked. "Is that what was wrong?" 

Tess shot up from the glider, sending it bumping into the wall. "Oh, Fawn, I am so sorry!" she said, taking her daughter out of my hands. She took the burp cloth off her shoulder, as if suddenly remembering it was there, and handed it to me. "Here, clean 'yaself up." 

"S'alright," I chuckled, cringing as I wiped up the gobby mess. "I've got other shirts. At least I got her to stop crying." 

Tess looked down at the baby in the crook of her arm, and then back up at me. "Wanna try a hand at gettin' her 'ta sleep?" 

Long story short, that's how I found my new job as the Tariq's live-in babysitter.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wasn't expecting to do surrogacy again, at least not for a long while. The Tariqs were paying me a decent wage for domestic work and were kind enough to not charge me rent -- so long as I was saving a certain amount of the money each week. The last post I ever made on the surrogate agency's forums was an announcement celebrating Suri's successful home birth. After that, I let my profile go dark.

Not only did hiring me allow the Tariqs to keep their promise of helping me on my feet, it also gave them an extra set of hands around the house while Ray was at work. Tess and I worked out a system where I would work on smaller tasks while she took care of the most pressing matters. If she was feeding Suri, I was cleaning the kitchen. If she was cooking dinner, I was changing a diaper. If she had to do yardwork, I was keeping Suri entertained.  

I learned to prepare formula, wash bottles, change diapers, and play peek-a-boo like a pro in no time. 

Bath time was always a tag-team effort, though. Suri was a splasher, and her favorite bath toy was a rubber turtle called "Squirta Turta", so we usually ended up as soaked as she was. 

When Suri was being weaned off formula, we made homemade baby food with the vegetables in the garden. Turns out, placenta makes a great fertilizer. I wondered if Mom had ever used it in her flower beds -- she'd had five of them to work with by the time all of us kids were born. I wished I could ask her. I wished I could ask her about a lot of things. I also wished Suri could eat her mashed squash without trying to wear the bowl as a hat, but I didn't get that wish, either. 

This was my life for two wonderfully chaos-filled years, and I was mostly content with it.

Mostly.

I wanted to go to college. That was always my plan for after high school, but . . . plans had obviously changed. My grades hadn't been anything to brag about, so I knew from the start I'd have to pay my own way through. I had two years' worth of savings, but I didn't want to dip into it, yet. That money was meant to be the down payment on a house someday. What would be the point of spending all my money on school if I'd be right back to square one afterward? That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to get my degree and start my life over -- I'd been waiting long enough.

After sitting down with Ray and breaking down the costs of school, I realized I barely had enough to pay for one term. There were some small scholarships I could apply for here and there, but I wasn't about to rely on winning them. There were hundreds of smarter students out there vying for the same pile of money. What chance did I have?

I mulled it over for several days without saying a word to anyone, but eventually I made up my mind. When I did, Tess was the first person I told:

"I'm gonna get pregnant again."

I announced it out of the blue as I was helping Tess with the after-dinner dishes. She was at the kitchen sink, washing. I was at the counter, drying.

The steel wool in her hand scraped to a halt. "Pardon?"

I hunched my shoulders a bit as I toweled off a plate. "I'm gonna find another couple that needs to 'rent a room'. It'll be able to pay for my degree. In full. All four years."

Tess continued washing, but she didn't acknowledge what I'd said at all.

"So . . . what do you think?" I prodded, setting stacks of dishes in the cabinet.

Tess grimaced into the soapy water, concentrating way too much on the pan she was scrubbing. "Shug, I dunno," she said. "Do 'ya really wanna do that 'ta 'yaself so soon?"

"Whatd'ya mean 'so soon'?" I scoffed. "Suri's up toddling around the house. Isn't that when most moms get pregnant again?"

"'Ya ain't a mom, yet, Fawn," Tess said, her tone lovingly blunt -- the tone that can only be learned by disciplining a toddler.

I flinched a little, but I crossed my arms over my chest to hide it. All she'd done was state a fact, but it still bit.

"I'd like to be," I mumbled. I gazed out the kitchen window and saw Ray out in the backyard with Suri. He was blowing bubbles, and she was reaching up to grab them with high-pitched screams of laughter. She chased them as they swooped lower to the ground, and then stomped on them with her tiny flip-flops when they touched the grass. "Someday."

"I know, doll. That's why I'm concerned." Tess set the pan on the drying rack. "Pregnancies are risky. Wouldn't 'ya rather have as few of 'em as possible?"

"I've had two and they went just fine," I said with a shrug. "I'm young, Tess! Isn't now the best time to use what I got? I can charge more, now that I've got experience. No student debt and money left over to save for a house! Trade nine months in exchange for the rest of my life? How could I pass that up?!"

Tess didn't say anything for a long time, she just dunked a chili pot in the dishwater and started scrubbing. I stood there in uncomfortable silence until she said:

"School can wait, 'ya know."

"No, it can't!" I protested.

"Ray and I can pay what 'ya need for classes when we start tryin' again," Tess said. "What on Earth's the point?"

"Point is," I huffed, leaning my hip against the counter, arms still crossed over my chest, "I'm almost twenty-four and I've got nothin' to show for it!"

"Fawn, 'ya gotta think about-."

"I'll still be able to help you guys out, Tess," I added. "Don't worry about that."

"It's not us I'm worryin' about," was her deadpan response.

It was frustrating as hell, but I wasn't too angry at her. I knew why she wasn't a fan of the idea.

The three of us had recently discussed growing their family in the future. The Tariqs wanted to wait until Suri was a little more independent before welcoming a second baby, so that plan was at least two more years out.

Following that conversation, we'd decided not to return to the surrogate agency we used the first time. The agency was helpful with the fine print and legal stuff, but the Tariqs had not been too thrilled to learn that a desperate, homeless, childless young woman had been allowed to become a surrogate of theirs.

"I can do it independently," I said, pleading my case. "I know how to be careful."

Tess turned to lock eyes with me. "Fawn . . . I just need 'ta know you're doin' it for the right reasons. I don't like the idea of 'ya going through all that for nothing but a stack'a cash."

"It's not just for money" I insisted. "I wouldn't go through it again for anyone, not even you guys, if I didn't find it meaningful."

Tess didn't seem any more at ease with my promises. "I just don't want 'ya health 'ta suffer. If 'ya do this, you're choosin' 'ta put 'ya body through a lot in such a short time."

I didn't argue. She was right. "I know."

Tess turned back to the sink, sighing while she rinsed out the pot. My toes curled inside my shoes.

"I want to help another couple while I still have the chance," I said, trying to justify my decision -- partially to myself. I could sense how strong Tess's disapproval was, and it was giving me serious second thoughts. "If I can't be a parent right now, I want to make it possible for other people to be parents. It makes the wait feel . . . less long."

Tess dried her hands on her long bohemian skirt and turned to gently hold my shoulders. "Doll, it's 'ya own choice. Ray and I can't stop 'ya from doin' whatever it is 'ya wanna do."

I nodded, my eyes cast down. I didn't need their permission, nor had I been asking for it, but some support would've been -- .

"Just know that we'll be here 'ta help 'ya," Tess continued. "Anything 'ya need, just ask. If you're gonna do this, I want 'ya as healthy and happy as possible."

I nodded again, this time with a smile on my face. "I'd appreciate that."

Tess wrapped me in a hug. "But please, shug," she added, patting my back, "don't put 'yaself through too much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Easy there, doll. I've got'cha."

Tess held my curls back as I wretched into a blue emesis bag. I'd started growing my hair out in the months it took for this surrogacy to be arranged. I hadn't been thinking ahead.

I'd thought I was in the clear after I had to have Tess pull over on the highway so I could vomit up breakfast, but the antiseptic smell of the hospital kicked up my nausea again. I'd made it through the halls, but by the time I'd sat on the exam table my stomach had enough.

I choked on thick saliva and spit a mouthful of colorless bile into the bag. "Okay . . . okay, I'm good now," I spluttered as I lifted my head. I cinched the bag and handed it to the technician without looking them in the eye. "Sorry."

"Don't be," the tech laughed, "morning sickness is par for the course in here. I'll be right back, just make yourself comfortable." They dragged the privacy curtain closed behind them as they left the room.

Tess wet a paper towel in the hand sink for me. My skin was clammy and cold even before I wiped the towel across my face -- so I wasn't left feeling any better. My hands had a tremor so deep inside the tendons it registered as numbness. I raked my front teeth over my tongue to scrape away the acidic taste.

I hadn't really needed that blood test. I'd known the IVF had worked when I woke up clinging for dear life against the Earth's rotation. My head hadn't stopped spinning since, and it was two damn weeks later. The doctor overseeing my IVF had sent me in for a six-week ultrasound -- which was earlier than I'd ever had one done before -- because my hormone levels were "suspiciously high" this time around. Whatever that meant.

I'd been pumped full of fertility drugs like a chicken with GMOs for a solid four months by that point. No shit my hormones were off the charts, especially now that I was pregnant.

"It's never been this bad," I groaned, coughing on the burn in my throat.

"Yeah, that's why the doctor wants 'ya in here," Tess said with a chuckle.

"I hate it," I scowled. "I want the old morning sickness back."

"Each time is different," Tess said. "I had it once or twice before, but when I was pregnant with Ravi it never really went away." Any time Tess mentioned her angel baby, a little bit of the light left her eyes -- and I saw it happen again right there in that ultrasound room.

Tess helped me pull off my jeans and tucked my discarded underwear inside the back pocket for me. I covered my hips with the paper blanket just before the tech came back into the room.

"Looks like we're ready to start!" they chirped, taking their seat between me and the rolling ultrasound cart.

"Hang on a sec," I said, pulling up the FaceTime app on my phone. "The parents really wanna see the first ultrasound."

"Ah," the tech said with an understanding nod, "is this a surrogate situation?"

"My second time," I said with a proud grin. I pointed at Tess, who was folding my pants over the back of a chair. "I carried her baby first. Most amazing thing I've ever done."

Tess beamed at me. She was smiling, but the shadows on her face were a bit deeper than normal.

"Really now!" The tech exclaimed, keeping their peppy tone as they typed my info into the computer. "It's rare I see surrogate mothers as young as you. Bless your heart!"

"She's a trooper, that's for damn sure," Tess said, "but, God love 'er, she's been so sick."

"I'm sure your care provider can prescribe something for that at your follow-up ," the tech told me. "It won't feel this bad for much longer, sweetheart."

"It's worth it, though," I said. My phone bubbled with the ringtone of an outgoing video call. "These guys will be amazing dads."

The tech smiled at me. "I have such respect for traditional surrogates. That's a lot of sacrifice."

"Oh, no," I corrected them with a small hand wave. "This isn't traditional. These are the bio parents."

I hadn't willy-nilly accepted the first eager couple I'd found online. I'd put half a year's worth of thought into carrying this pregnancy. The Tariqs always gave me my birthday off, and I'd spent that entire day talking to prospective parents. I wanted to prove to them that I was taking this seriously; if I was doing this just for the money, I wouldn't have cared whose baby I carried. I wanted to vet my options and choose a couple that I well and truly felt honored in helping -- and the Gillespies were exactly that.

My phone screen flashed with a mixture of bright pixels before the video came into focus. An odd pair of men sat beside each other in what appeared to be either a kitchen or a dining room -- perhaps it served as both, they lived in a small condo. One was a tall, tanned athlete with a dark stubbly beard and a sculpted figure rippling beneath his loose-fitting tank top. That was Silas. The other was a willowy, ramen-haired man with thick blue octagon frames on his glasses and the quote, "It's only a passing thing, this shadow" from The Two Towers tattooed on his forearm. That was Owen.

"Hey, guys!" I said, holding my phone up and giving them a wave.

There was a slightly-too-long pause due to lag, but both guys lit up with smiles and greeted me in unison. I saw the tech looking at the screen from the corner of my eye. I could see the math trying to play out in their head.

"You don't mind if we record this, right?" Silas asked. They must've been watching from a tablet, because he reached his finger under the camera and swiped a few times as if he were checking a separate app. As he lifted his arm, a crescent of silvery scar tissue became visible from under his shirt.

I saw the tech look back to their computer with a subtle nod of their head. God love 'em, they must've been too nervous to ask.

"Go ahead! It's a special occasion," I said. "I'm gonna hand you over to Tess. We're about to start."

"Yay, Tess!" Owen said with a clap of excitement. He waved as I passed my phone over. "Hi, Tess! Where's Ray?"

"Hi, boys," Tess said with a soft grin. She adjusted herself to be closer to my side. "Ray's workin' from home today so he can watch our 'lil darlin'."

Of course the Tariqs had wanted to meet my new clients. They said it was because they wanted to vouch for me as a caring and capable surrogate; but I think it was mostly to judge the couple for themselves. The Gillespies had both Tess and Ray's number as my emergency contacts, which came in handy when they needed help with some legal paperwork.

Silas and Owen were my age, both of them twenty-four. They'd poured all their savings into the process of hiring a surrogate and had none left over for a lawyer. At the Tariq's behest, all three of us had stayed up late on a call to talk the Gillespies through the steps of writing a surrogacy contract. Silas and Owen seemed to hold a lot of respect for the Tariqs after that.

While Tess had the camera on her, I reclined on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. The paper blanket gave plenty of privacy -- which was good, because I didn't want my clients to see the long plastic wand the tech was prepping while it was in there doin' its thing. I'd never had a transvaginal ultrasound before, but apparently it was the only way to get a view of the Gillespies' baby so early.

I couldn't help but tense as I felt the rounded tip of the wand slip inside me like butter, aided by the warm jelly I was used to having on my belly. I could feel the blood flooding my face as the curved device slid under my public bone and pressed against a part of my anatomy that hadn't been reached in years -- though not for lack of trying, I had short fingers.

"Relax a little more, please," the tech said.

"Sorry . . . not used to this."

Don't judge me. I was living with my employers. The idea of one of them finding an adult toy in my room -- or worse, their daughter finding it -- made me shrivel.

I felt a subtle buzz inside my tissues when the device turned on. I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Okay, let's have a look at that baby," the tech said as they began angling the wand.

Tess flipped the phone around so the dads could see the action. I saw Owen grip his husband's bicep and pull him closer. The room was silent for a moment while the technician moved the wand around my pelvis.

"Can we listen to the heartbeat?" Owen asked, hugging Silas's arm.

"Not yet," the tech said, eyes glued to the screen. "Their little heart is only a few cells big right now. It's too quiet to pick up, but we'll hear it in a few weeks."

Owen and Silas shared a grin. I could see their story written on their faces and in the way they looked at each other. They'd been dating since high school, the odd-ball pairing of bookworm and athlete. After graduation, a preemptive doctor's appointment before Silas started testosterone saved his life:

Cervical cancer, stage two. The doctors had no choice but to take everything, but Silas chose to freeze a few of his eggs before the surgery. He'd gotten into non-competitive bodybuilding to deal with the effects of chemo, and it'd been his favorite hobby since. Luckily, Silas had been cancer-free for years -- Owen had gotten his first and only tattoo in celebration.

Now that they were newlyweds, the Gillespies were choosing to start their family right away -- knowing the frozen eggs wouldn't last forever. We'd lost a lot of hope when most of the eggs didn't thaw right, meaning we only had one shot at this. The Gillespies were more than open to adoption, but . . . having a baby together was something they'd hoped for since before Silas's diagnosis.

I'd known I wanted to step up to the plate as soon as I heard their story. I was proud to be helping such a sweet pair of guys have their much-wanted family. When I saw the way they looked at each other in that moment -- the excitement and love of a dream finally coming true -- I secretly hoped doing this for them would grant me some sort of karmatic favor.

I hoped one day I'd share that same ecstatic smile with someone, for the same happy reason.

The tech hadn't said anything for a while. They kept moving the wand from side-to-side between my hips and squinting at the screen. They took several images, judging by how often they hit the same loud button on their keyboard. They hadn't even turned the screen around, yet. I couldn't wrap my head around the baby being so hard to find -- not with the ultrasound wand jammed so far up.

"Are they hiding from 'ya?" I asked with a joking lilt. Something was starting to sink inside my chest.

"No, I see them," the tech said. They squinted harder at the screen. "Just taking their picture for the doctor."

"That's a lot of pictures," Silas commented from my phone speaker.

"Well, I . . . just want to make sure," the tech said. Their keyboard clacked as they took another image.

It felt like I'd swallowed lead. "Sure of what?"

The tech finally tilted the screen so the rest of the room could see it. In the grey-and-white fuzz on the monitor, a round dark void was highlighted in a bright yellow square. Resting in the void was a blurry white bean with a small flutter in the curve of its shape.

"So, here's the gestational sac," the tech said, outlining the yellow square with their cursor. They circled the cursor over the fluttering movement. "That's baby's nice strong heartbeat right there." 

"Silas, oh my god!" I heard Owen cry. "Look! We made that!"

The tech turned the wand slightly and the image on the screen rolled to the left. The same black void and white bean slid into view, except now it was upside-down. The tech once again circled their cursor around the flutter. "And this is another nice strong heartbeat."

 "They have two hearts?!" I gasped in panic. I realized how stupid I sounded after it was too late. "Or is it . . . ?"

The tech flicked the wand from side-to-side, and each time they did a little black void with a bean remained on the screen. It took a few back-and-forths for me to realize those weren't two different angles of the same image.

"Holy shit . . ." I wheezed. My hand covered my throat, as if that would loosen the strangling tightness that was setting in. "Holy shit . . ."

“What? What’s wrong?” I heard Silas ask, his voice glitched and laggy.

“Boys, can ‘ya see?” Tess asked, holding my phone closer to the screen. “Can ‘ya see that?”

I wanted to turn my head and see the parents’ reaction, but I could not move my eyes from the ultrasound. The Gillespies were quiet for a minute as the tech continued to swivel the image from side-to-side.

“How many embryos did you transfer?” the tech asked.

“There were only two that made it,” Silas answered. I could sense the moment reality washed over him. “Wait . . . wait, are they both there?!”

“Yep,” Tess said. I have no idea what emotion was in her tone, but it had a glaze of forced excitement. “They both took root.”

“I can’t quite get an image of both of them,” the tech said. “I’m trying, but it looks like they’re on opposite walls of the uterus. That flipped one is way up there, too. They’re hanging onto the roof like a bat.”

“A bat bean,” Owen said. His voice was flat, like the quip was a reflex.

“So . . . twins, right?” Silas asked. “We’re having twins?”

“Congratulations!” the tech chirped.

My pulse was pounding under my hand. That lump of lead was sitting hard in my guts, right alongside those two tiny beans. Two. Two beans. Holy shit. Two.

Tess turned the phone towards me and I saw the moon-eyed shock on the Gillespies’ faces. “Fawn, honey?” Tess prodded. “Wanna say something? What’dya think?”

“I . . .” My saliva felt thick and hot in my mouth. My tongue fell numb and it nearly flopped down my throat as I shot up on the table, my legs still up in the stirrups. “I think I’m gonna be sick!”

Tess jumped for a trash can. She aimed the camera at her face while I loudly wretched in the background of my clients’ first family video.

“This explains a lot,” Tess told the fathers with a sheepish grin. “Two times the baby, two times the morning sickness.”

The Gillespeies were quiet for a while, an awkward pause with only the sounds of my suffering to fill the void.

“We’re having twins, Owen,” Silas finally said, just as I was pulling my face from the trash.

“Yeah . . . wow,” Owen’s voice answered.

I heard a subtle thumping from their end, like one of them was bouncing their leg. The tempo was frantic.

“What’s wrong, Owen?” Tess asked. She held the phone to be more level with her face. 

All I heard was a harsh sniffle.

“C’mere, you big softie,” I heard Silas say.

“Don’t cry, honeybun,” Tess said. “It's a blessing!"

“I’m happy!” Owen insisted over the phone. “I’m so happy!” His voice was muffled, like he was hiding his face in his husband’s shoulder. “This is . . . whew! This is overwhelming!”

“No kidding,” Silas said with a laugh.

“No fucking kidding,” I said with my head in the trash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days for the shock to wear off. The anti-nausea pills cleared my head so I felt less like I was walking in a fever dream. Once that edge was taken off, it made reality slip in a little smoother. I was pregnant with twins. There were two little jellybeans inside me that would be two full-sized babies in eight months. That was fine. Yeah, that was fine. That had to be fine. If it wasn’t fine, I was going to start losing my mind! So, it was fine.

I mailed the printouts of the ultrasounds to the parents. They had the digital pictures I took, but those physical copies were what really mattered to them. The three of us had never met in person. They lived hundreds of miles away, in Michigan. They wouldn’t be flying down to Tennessee until it was nearing my due date, so any physical memento of their babies I could send to them was much appreciated.

I wanted the Gillespies to feel included in my pregnancy as much as possible, even if they couldn’t be with me in-person. Each week I’d take a picture of myself turned sideways in the bathroom mirror and sent it to them. I basically sent them the same picture four times in a row. There was nothing much to show except for the tummy flab I’d collected my first two times around the block. By week ten, though, I could feel that familiar little lump starting to form below my navel. I had slightly too much of a pooch for there to be any trace of a bump, though.

Almost three months in, I was surprised by how normal my pregnancy was – aside from the intense bouts of nausea I relied on my medicine for. I’d thought having twins inside me would up the difficulty level, but up to that point my life had changed very little. I still got up every day to housekeep and nanny for my allotted shift, and I did so with the same ease I did before. The only change was how much of an eye Tess kept on me. It was very annoying.

“Fawn, no!” Tess trotted up beside me and took hold of my hips. “‘Ya don’t need ‘ta be up there.”

“Stop it!” I gasped as the stack of plates in my hand jittered. “Don’t grab me like that if you don’t want me to fall!”

Tess gently pulled me down from the stepstool I’d been using to reach the cabinet. “I can take care of those,” she said, taking the stack of dishes.

“Jesus, you’d think these were your babies,” I muttered.

“It’s easy now, doll, but you’re not far off from those little ‘uns hittin’ a growth spurt.” Tess climbed the stepstool and I rolled my eyes behind her back at the oh-so-dangerous foot and a half of height she stood above. “I can go ahead and take over the chores ‘ya need help with.”

I shrugged, lifting my hands and then letting them slap down onto my thighs. “Alright. Want me to take over Suri while you handle the dishes?”

“Yes, and I’ll be wiping down the countertops and stove with bleach. So, I don’t want either of ‘ya in here until I say so.”

“Right. Grabbing snacks.”

Arms full of Cheerios, applesauce pouches and beef jerky, I joined Surinder in the living room. She was watching one of her preschooler shows on TV from inside her pop-up play tent. Her toys were strewn all over the floor – the living room had become her territory and she marked it with Duplo blocks and miniature plastic food. 

I bent over to start picking up and I grunted when the ligaments around my waist pulled tight. Tess was right about the babies, I hadn’t gotten round ligament pain so early before.

It wasn’t long before Suri crawled out of her tent and patted my leg to get my attention. “Fa! Fa!” she called my name until I turned around and acknowledged her.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Go! . . . Go potty!”

“You gotta go potty? Okay, let’s go-oh!” I winced as I stooped to pick her up, my hands flying to my sides. There was that ligament pain again. I rubbed my hands into my lower belly, trying to work out the tension in my stretching muscles. “Let’s walk to the potty.”

I kept feeling that growing pain. I got a charlie horse in my back as I was helping Suri in the bathroom. That nerve-deep pain flared up in a ring around my hips as I sat down for dinner, but a slight adjustment in my posture made it nothing more than an annoyance. I went to bed that night safe in the knowledge I would wake up to another day of normalcy.

I woke up to my alarm, bright and early as always. I woke up to that ring of pain around my hips as I stretched out under the covers. I woke up to the sensation of wet fabric, something sticky plastered against the curve of my rear and up my lower back. I woke up to blood, both crusty brown and damp red, on my pajamas and sheets.

I woke up wanting to scream. Instead, I tip-toed past Suri’s nursery and padded down the hall to her parents’ room. I knocked once before opening the door. I was like a child needing to be comforted from a nightmare, appearing in the Tariq’s doorway and softly whispering their names until they stirred.

“Ray? Tess?” I leaned a little harder against the doorframe as I watched their silhouettes sit up in bed. “Can one of you drive me?”

Tess yawned. “Where, doll?”

“The ER.”

With the yank of a chain, Ray’s bedside lamp clicked to life. I didn’t need to scream. Tess did it for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray held my hand while we waited in the emergency room. I’d cleaned up and changed clothes – Ray had lent me a pair of his sweatpants, just in case I bled through my pad. All that remained of my pregnancy was sealed in a sandwich box on my lap. Tess suggested I take the large clump of blood and tissue I’d found in my underwear with me for the doctor to look at, but I hated holding that box knowing someone’s lost dream was inside.

Tess hadn’t come to the hospital with us. She stayed at the house until her parents arrived to take Suri for the day and then met us in the waiting room. I sat between them, resting my head on Tess’s shoulder while both of them wrapped an arm around me. We waited like that for over an hour.

Most of that day is a scrambled signal in my memory. There was a lot of waiting. A lot of fluorescent lights and white-beige walls. We watched TV together in the room they put me in, but I don’t remember what we watched. Only one memory of that ER visit is clear:

A nurse came in and confirmed what we already knew. They’d found the stringy prototype of a placenta in the tissue I’d passed, along with one of the gestational sacs. That was concerning, though. One. They’d only found one of the twins. There was a possibility I needed surgery, so they had to go in and see what was left. The Tariqs weren’t allowed to follow me as I was wheeled down to radiology.

The ultrasound room was dark and warm, the only light coming from the idle monitor of the computer. It was easy to close my eyes and drift into a trance as the tech smeared gel over my lower belly. I’d been scheduled for my next ultrasound in two weeks. I didn’t think I could handle seeing how empty I was.

“Did everything clear?” I asked, resting my hands over my sternum. Even if I didn’t want to see it, I still wanted to know if they were gonna have to scrape me out.

“I can’t say for certain until the doctor has a chance to look at these,” the tech said. “I’m just here to take pictures.”

I wished this was the same tech from my first ultrasound. I could’ve used their friendliness.

“I stopped cramping a while ago,” I said, “so hopefully it’s over.”

The tech rolled the wand up from my groin and I felt it press on the solid lump in the front of my hips. They were pressing hard – trying to get a good image, I assume – but eased off as they moved the wand just below my navel.

“Ope, no. Wait,” the tech said, “there’s the other one. Gosh, that one is way up there.”

Bat Bean. That’s what the Gillespies and I had been calling Baby B. We’d been calling Baby A “Jellybean”. I wondered what their real names would’ve been. My throat closed up and I had to stop wondering.

“Oh . . . my . . .” the tech said, nearly in a whisper. Then, much louder: “Well, hello there, little guy!”

“What?” I asked, opening one eye in hesitation.

I saw their face in the light of the monitor, saw the crescent moon of a smile below their reflective glasses. “It’s kicking!”

“What?!” 

My neck arched and suddenly I was staring at the high-def image of a grey gummy bear on the screen. Nubby limbs twitched as the oval-shaped body curled and uncurled, swimming around its bubble of fluid like a tiny fish. The bulbous head turned and I watched in utter amazement as Baby B’s whole body flipped over in a summersault.

The tech hit a key and a steady whop-whopa-whop-whopa played as a line of white peaks and valleys appeared below the image. “And we have a heartbeat!” they announced, all monotone gone from their demeanor.

I must’ve been in a state of shock, because my memory after that moment is almost entirely blank. I have a vague recollection of signing some paperwork and a surgeon standing over my bed, listing off possible side effects. I remember a needle going into my arm, and then my memory is a void.

My memory restarts at the point I woke up in the recovery ward. Please understand that before this point, I had never had any kind of knock-out juice. I’d never had surgery before. So, please don’t make fun of me when I admit that I woke up crying. My vision was blurry, my head was in a vice, my anti-nausea medication had worn off, and it felt like I had a cactus in my vagina. 

I saw a silhouette at my bedside, a woman’s silhouette with a ponytail of dirty-blonde hair. For a second, I thought my mom had forgiven me – I thought that someone, somehow, had reached her. I thought she cared enough to be worried about me. I reached out to her, craving to feel her hold me again. I felt horrible. I wanted my Mama to make it all better.

“M-om?” I mewled, my mouth slow and dry. 

I touched the woman’s arm, causing her to turn towards me. She wasn’t my mom – just a nurse who styled her hair the same way. “No, sorry. I’m not Mom,” she said softly. “She’s probably waiting for you outside.”

I knew she wasn’t. I felt more tears trail down my neck.

“Just lay back and try to wake up a little more,” the nurse told me, “then we’ll let your family come back and see you.”

I dipped in and out of a fugue state, gradually returning to reality as the drugs wore off. Although I couldn’t remember much before surgery, I was inately aware that my cervix had been sewn shut. There was no telling what had caused me to lose Baby A, but Baby B was still considered at-risk. Sealing the exit shut was the best bet to keep ‘em in there. The fact I was still pregnant at all after so much blood loss and cramping was miraculous. Just to be safe, they hooked my IV up to something that would stop my uterus from contracting. 

When I was awake enough to feel hungry and ask for food, the Tariqs were allowed to come sit with me in my cubicle of curtains. Tess sat on the side of my bed while Ray tried to nap in his chair. It’d been nearly twelve hours since we arrived at the hospital and we were all exhausted. I barely had the energy to lift spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup to my mouth. After I’d gotten some broth and crackers down my throat, and Tess and I had run out of small talk, Tess leaned in and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered into my ear. “I know what you’re feelin’, and it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

They weren’t empty words – far from it. Tess had been where I was time, after time, after time. Only, for her, it was worse – those lost children were her own. Then . . . there had been Ravi. I didn’t want to imagine how his loss had felt. Well . . . perhaps I could make a light comparison, but I at least knew my son was alive and well somewhere. I wrapped my arms around Tess in return, blinking back tears.

“No, Tess,” I said, my face covered by her long flaxen hair. It smelled like her mint shampoo. “I’m sorry you went through this so many times.”

Tess held me tighter.

“Have you told them?” I asked.

“No. We wanted ‘ta hear what the doctor said first,” Tess said. “Everything’s lookin’ okay with the baby right now, but he wants ‘ya on bedrest.”

“Can you . . . please call them for me? I don’t want to hear them . . .”

“I will,” Tess said, patting my back. “I’ll go outside and let them know.”

“If they ask which one it was . . .” I sniffled and choked back a small sob. “. . . tell them we lost Jellybean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to send the Gillespies bumpdates every week. I never missed a single one. I continued mailing them printouts of their baby’s ultrasounds. We never talked or chatted about what happened, nor did we discuss medical updates about Bat Bean. For those, the Gillespies waited for either Ray or Tess to contact them. I didn’t want them to associate me – the woman carrying their one and only child – with talk of heartbreak and loss. I wanted Silas and Owen to be excited when they saw an email from me, not dread clicking on it. Ray and Tess stepped up to be the bearers of heavy news for us. My doctor had me going in for ultrasounds every two weeks, which meant a lot of baby pictures from me and a lot of medical updates from the Tariqs.

My stomach remained flat for quite a while, with just the slightest bump in my lower belly for weeks. But one morning, around fifteen weeks in, I swear I woke up looking like I’d swallowed a cantaloupe. I guess the baby had finally hit that growth spurt Tess had predicted.

His name was Milo Bennet Gillespie. Silas and Owen named him shortly after we discovered he was going to be a boy. Owen was a fan of classic books who worked at Barnes & Noble, so I had no doubt he was the one to choose the middle name. Sometimes we playfully referred to Milo as “Bat Bean”, but that nickname faded out in favor of his real name. I worried over him – a lot. I bought a home doppler online so I could check if his heart was beating. Whenever I noticed he hadn’t moved for a while, I would pull up my shirt and rub the doppler on my bump until I heard the whoosh of his pulse. The doctors kept saying everything was looking good with him, but I worried.

I was essentially given leave of my housekeeper duties until Milo was done cooking. The doctor wanted me off my feet, so I spent most of my days on the couch watching cartoons with Suri. She was observant enough to ask about my big belly in her two-word-sentence manner. Unsure how to explain the situation, I told her there was a small person living in my stomach and that his name was Milo. I even took her tiny hand and let her feel where Milo was wiggling around. She didn’t like that very much, it freaked her out and she ran to her mother. I didn’t want her to get excited for a baby that wouldn’t be coming home with me. That wouldn’t be fair to her . . . or to me. 

It wasn’t the best experience, being pregnant without the baby’s parents there. When I was growing Suri, her parents were there with me at every doctor’s visit. They took me on day trips just for fun and to make sure I had enough to eat. They were able to put their hands on my belly to feel their daughter kick, and put their lips close to my skin so she could hear their voices. Milo didn’t have that. His daddies were hundreds of miles away. They’d never felt him squirm around, only I had. He’d never heard their voices close-up, just over the phone . . . maybe. The clearest voice he’d ever heard was mine . . . and my voice wasn’t going to follow him home.

Although I had the Tariqs there to support me and love me, I felt alone in my pregnancy. Milo was just a little visitor in the household – we had no toys or bedding or bottles for him, all of that was with his fathers. After he was born, no one would mention him – his future didn’t involve us at all. I was the closest thing to a mother Milo would ever have . . . and I wasn’t going to be a part of his life. 

It was an experience I’d had before, with the last baby boy I’d held under my heart.

It took a toll. It really took a toll.

Before I knew it, I’d blown up big as a barn. I no longer had a lap when I sat down, my belly nearly reaching my knees. Milo was a big boy – the doctor estimated he was around nine pounds – and he was squishing all the fluid in my body into my lower half. My legs were hot and heavy and my feet were too swollen for my shoes, so I shuffled between the bathroom, kitchen and couch in flip-flops. God, I hated being on my feet. I spent my days either dicking around on my laptop – using my belly as a desk – or watching TV while sprawled out on the couch. 

Surinder got really upset with me one day, when I refused to play tag with her. Ray and Tess were very mindful of how much Suri “bothered” me, but I never considered it bothersome. I loved Suri, she was practically my niece. I was sure to let her know that I wanted to play with her, but my “belly buddy” was making me too tired. I made up for it with lots of hugs and kisses, and I promised that once I was feeling better we’d play tag as much as she wanted.

As soon as I hit thirty-seven weeks, I was on high alert. I’d warned my doctor that I delivered before my due date at least once before, but he wanted to keep Milo in there until he was full-term. So, he refused to remove my stitches. As miserable as I was, I agreed. I wanted Milo to bulk up as much as he could, even if it added to my discomfort. If I could give Silas and Owen a perfect, healthy baby . . . maybe it would make up for what happened. 

My body had failed one of their babies – and so help me God I was gonna force it to nurture the other! I was determined! I would make it to forty weeks!

Yet, I would not.

I pulled myself off the couch one afternoon to grab a snack and my knees almost folded. I leaned against the arm of the couch as a deep downward motion slid over my organs. My lungs were slowly relieved of their crushing burden and they eagerly filled to their maximum. I lifted the weight of my belly with one desperate hand because I had a blaring instinct about what was happening.

“Milo, don’t you dare!” I muttered under my breath.

Like a Duplo block clicking into place, Milo’s head slipped into my hips. My belly visibly dropped, I felt it shift to hit heavier in my hand. Almost immediately, I felt the baby’s heft sitting directly on my sutured cervix. I groaned and pressed my thighs together. The pain throbbed between my legs, sharper than I’d ever felt.

“Hey, Ray?” I called, knowing he was upstairs in his office.

“Yeah?” his distant voice rumbled through the ceiling.

“Can you bring me my phone?” I called. “I need to call the doctor.”

A few minutes later, Ray thumped down the creaky stairs with my cellphone. He paused when he saw me leaning over the back of the sofa, kneeling with my thighs apart. “You okay?” he asked, handing me my phone.

“I need to call the doctor and tell him I need my stitches out, like . . . tomorrow,” I said, unlocking the screen. “Milo’s in my hips, he’s not gonna wait another two weeks.”

Ray rubbed my lower back, scratching his goatee in thought. “Is he going to wait until tomorrow? You’ve been having cramps, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re irregular as hell,” I said, putting the phone up to my ear. “I’ll be in labor soon, but not that soon.”

I was wrong. I was so wrong. I was so horribly wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Silas? Hi. Yeah, it’s Ray.”

“Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

“We have a situation. Fawn’s having contractions and you boys need to get on a plane right now.” Ray ground his knuckles into my back while I wailed face-down on my bed.

I gripped a bag of frozen peach slices in a towel between my thighs. My arms hugged all my pillows to my chest beneath me, and I buried my head between them to yell my way through this latest contraction. My belly was squeezed into a perfect sphere, peeking out from under my shirt as it hung down to my mattress. The contractions were actually pretty mild, all things considered. They didn’t hurt that bad at all. 

However! My body was forcing Milo down hard against my cervix. That pain was far, far worse than the contractions. His head was grinding against a closed exit, but the sheer force was spreading that exit open anyway. The baby was a battering ram and my cervix was a fortress door, splitting apart around its locks and bars with every slam. 

“Fuck, I want these stitches out!” I cried into my pillows. “I want them out!”

“Yeah . . . yeah, you can get a refund on the tickets you already bought,” Ray continued on the phone, and on my back. “I’ll book a room for you, don’t worry about that. Just focus on getting here. Bring an overnight bag for each of you and some basics for the baby. I’ll pick you up from the airport, don’t bother with an Uber.”

Tess walked into the room, a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder and her hair thrown into a messy bun. “Everything’s in the car,” she said. Her hand squeezed my shoulder until my posture relaxed and I lifted my head from the pillows. “You ready to go have a baby, ‘shug?”

I nodded. Tess helped me to my feet and I waddled down to the car doubled over and holding my belly up. Even without a contraction, the pry and pull on the strings holding my cervix closed was constant. My seam was literally about to pop. I had to recline the passenger seat as far as it could go so I could somewhat lie on my side. My contractions were regular, but very far apart; so, thank god, I didn’t have to deal with any while cramped in the car.

My chest tightened when we pulled into the hospital parking lot. I knew I’d be having the baby here. I’d prepared for it, but thinking about it was so different from doing it. Because of the complications with this pregnancy, I had no choice but to deliver in the same maternity ward I’d walked into years ago. I . . . didn’t like thinking about what I went through in that ward. 

Tess came around to my door to help haul me out, but I didn’t move. I stayed on my side, staring at the clouds hovering above the cars – they were painted with the summer sunset. 

“‘Ya want me ‘ta get a wheelchair?” Tess asked, leaning on the open car door.

“Yeah,” I sighed, resting my cheek on my hand. “Tess, I don’t wanna go in there. I wanna do this at home.”

Tess looked over her shoulder, scanning the hundreds of windows looming ten stories over us. “Me neither,” she said, then turned and hustled toward the hospital entrance.

At eleven-thirty that night, I found myself sitting on a birthing ball in a stagnant delivery room. The only light was the yellow wall lamp mounted over my bed – anything brighter and my head would pound. A monitor belt was pulled snug around my belly, leashing me to a gaggle of machines beside the bed. An IV bag of pitocin hung from a hooked pole beside me, the tubes trailing down to a needle taped in place on the back of my hand. 

I bounced on the ball, my hands braced on Tess’s knees while she sat on the side of the bed in front of me. I felt my torso squeeze and held my breath. The monitor beeped, registering a contraction.

“Blow the pain out,” Tess crooned, ghosting her fingertips up and down my arms.

I grabbed her knees and rotated my hips on the ball. A small “Ack!” bubbled up from my throat before I sucked air in through my nose and forced it out through pursed lips. I blew hard until my lungs went flat, then filled them again and continued the process. Salty water leaked from my shut eyelids and slid in thick droplets down my neck and back. I blew so I wouldn’t scream. I knew I could scream, but I didn’t want to come unglued only a few hours into active labor. Hell, my water hadn’t even broken yet. 

I could still be in control of myself, even if this birth was not going according to plan.

I was hoping labor would be smoother after the stitches were out, but they’d only caused more complications. I’d dilated quickly regardless of the sutures, already three centimeters open when the doctor snipped the strings. He’d gotten to me too late, though. The stitches had ripped small tears in my cervix as Milo’s head pulled them apart. The swelling was immense – within minutes I was sealed shut again and my labor stalled. Hence, the pitocin.

The pitocin hijacked my body, forcing it to crush inward on itself like a soda can in a hydraulic press – at a strength and speed beyond what felt natural. I had never felt labor this intensely! I would desperately cling to any self-control I had in that beige nightmare of a room.

“Mmmmh,” I hummed through my nose, my hip swivel morphing back into a bounce as the contraction eased.

“Good job,” Tess grinned at me. “You’re doin’ so good, Fawn.”

I moaned and leaned back, bracing my hands on my hips as I rode that birthing ball like a rodeo star. “Have they landed yet?”

“Doll, they ain’t on the plane yet,” Tess said. “The only direct flight they could book on such short notice leaves at one-fifteen. Ray��ll call us when they take off and when they land.”

“God,” I huffed, my chin falling onto my chest. “They gotta be here. They can’t miss this!”

“Everyone’s doin’ their best and that’s the only thing they can,” Tess said. “It’s only an hour flight. They’ll be here in time, don’tcha worry.”

My hair had grown past my shoulders during my pregnancy, and it was suffocating me. I lifted my auburn curls off my flushed neck to cool down. Tess watched me for a moment before pulling the elastic band from her hair. A cascade of blonde fell down her back, sun-bleached highlights vibrant even in the low light. Without a word she came ‘round and gathered my frizz into her hands. A few flicks of the wrist and she had my hair up in a damp, poofy bun.

Tess kneaded the back of my neck for a while. I rested against her, letting her work my muscles like dough. Milo kicked, causing a dull ‘thump’ on the doppler.

“Fawn,” Tess broke the silence, “there’s nothin’ wrong with askin’ for pain relief.”

“Don’t want it.”

“Doll, I can tell it’s hurtin’ like hell. You’re hooked up ‘ta stuff that could rocket a foal out’a ‘ya.”

“I’m. Fine.”

“Just ‘cause ‘ya managed before doesn’t mean-.”

“I don’t wanna be stuck in that bed!” I cried. “I don’t wanna lay there like a lame horse ‘til they strap me up in stirrups! I’m NOT doing that again!” 

I pulled away, using the bed’s railing to lift myself to my feet. My hand wrapped around to support my lower spine, exposed by the untied loops of my hospital gown. Tess picked up the absorbent pad on the birthing ball, folding it over to hide the bright spot of blood where I’d been sitting. I saw it, but it didn’t scare me – I knew it was from all the swelling. She retrieved the pink water cup from the table and let me drink from its straw.

“I had my baby here, too,” she finally spoke. She sat back down on the bed and smoothed her hand over the starchy sheets. “The beds feel the same.”

“Ravi was born here?” I rocked myself from foot-to-foot, holding onto the railing to keep steady. “I didn’t know that.”

“Four years ago as of January,” Tess said with a nod. “I was in here a few months before ‘ya, ‘shug. Who knows? Maybe they had us in the same room.”

God. Had it been four years already? I had a four-year-old somewhere out there and he had never seen my face. What toys did he like to play with? Did he watch the same preschooler shows that Suri and I watched together? What were his favorite foods? I wanted to know all of that. I wanted to know him! I wanted to know the sound of his voice, the color of his eyes, the texture of his hair . . . or his name.

A scar somewhere in my chest ripped open and I swear I could feel a black void pouring over my ribs like paint. I held my breath. Tears dripped from the tip of my nose and onto my belly. I was in so much pain, but not from labor. My soul was bleeding – the wound as raw as the day it was carved.

In my mind's eye, I saw myself reaching for my son as the doctor held him up. I saw my arms cradling his little naked body against my chest while he took his first breaths. I saw my lips pressing kisses into his bald, wrinkly scalp while my eyes cried phantom tears onto his skin.

None of that had happened at all – but it should have! I should have been given the chance to say goodbye – to look into his eyes and tell him how much I would always love him, even if he couldn’t see me. No, not even that. He should have stayed my baby! I should have gotten pregnant by a different man – a good man. I should have been on the pill instead of relying on his father’s cheap, oversized condoms that were probably expired. I should have fucked up my life less. I should have made a thousand better choices, so he could have stayed my baby!

I screamed along with the frantic beeping of the monitor, but all physical pain paled in comparison to the emotional. I’d cried through my heartbreak once before, but being back in that damn ward, in an identical room, brought all my grief pouring back out. Tears and liquid snot flowed down my face as I white-knuckled the bed’s railing to keep me upright. I gulped full lungs of air, only to wail and scream and sob until they were empty.

I think Tess knew my tears were from deeper down than they seemed. She leaned close and gently took hold of my contracting sides. Her palms rubbed large, soothing circles into my hardened womb. Her sympathetic eyes never left my face.

“Good girl,” she crooned. My eyes were blurry with salt water, but I thought the skin around her eyes looked red. “Scream it all out.”

“I want my baby, Tess!” I cried. “I . . .” my shoulders jerked with a sob, my diaphragm spasming from lack of air. “I n-never got to ho-hold him!” Another hiccup. “H-He’s going to think I . . . think I didn’t w-want him! But I . . . I wanted h-him so much!”

“Hushhh,” Tess shushed me. She wiped my face with the scratchy hospital blanket. “Hush now, doll. Calm ‘yaself down and get some air in.”

“Okay,” I nodded, still choking on sobs and panting for breath. “Okay . . . okay . . .” The awareness of the contraction began creeping into my brain. “Ohh . . . ohh . . . oh, shit!”

Blinded with tears, I threw my arm out to grab onto Tess. I balled her shirt collar in my hand and restarted my “blow the pain out” technique.

Tess continued massaging the sides of my belly, waiting to speak until she felt my muscles start to uncoil. “Are ‘ya sure you don’t want somethin’? I can call the nurse.”

I sniffled and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. Able to see again, I realized I hadn’t been wrong. Tess had been crying. My hand released her shirt, and my arm snaked around her shoulders to pull her into a hug.

“Tess . . . I just want you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three-thirty in the morning. We hadn’t heard anything from Ray, and even less from the Gillespies.

A nurse had been in to check me twice in the last hour. Milo was still in his comfy water balloon and that seemed to be cushioning him from the extra-strength contractions. I nearly started crying again when they told me his heart rate was fine and I could continue to labor on my own. With how damaged my cervix was – and how many liters of pitocin they’d given me – I’d been terrified of an emergency C-section.

By then I’d lost the use of my legs, but I refused to stay on the bed for more than a few minutes – usually just long enough to pull my knees back and let a nurse stick her fingers inside me. With the help of an orderly who’d come to swap out my IV bag, Tess had taken the mattress off the bed so I could have something soft to lie down on without feeling trapped.

I’d taken to half-lying on the floor with my arms and upper body resting on the birth ball. I couldn’t keep myself quiet during contractions any longer. Making low, rumbling noises like a cow in a ball gag was a must. It was how I was surviving. Between those moments, I was just tired. It was a relief that I couldn’t feel my cervix anymore, but that was likely because it had effaced. My eyes were heavy and full of grit, but the sixty-something seconds I had between contractions didn’t allow me to sleep.

At that point, I was beyond the mental capacity to worry about Silas and Owen. Milo and Tess were the only other people who existed in the world as transition’s brutal hand crushed me in its fist.

In hindsight, I think that’s why I didn’t panic when the pressure set in.

Tess was kneeling on pillows on the other side of the birthing ball, humming a lullaby to relax me between contractions. Her tune tapered to a halt when I shifted my hips, one leg pulling up to my side. “What’cha need, ‘shug?”

“I feel him.” I stated it like a bland fact.

My eyes were closed, but I felt Tess’s hand touch my shoulder. We’d already decided what we’d do if this happened before the Gillespies arrived.

“Alright, doll. It’s alright,” she crooned. “Lemmie come around.”

I heard the soft ‘pap pap pap’ of Tess’s socks traveling in an arch around me on the faux wood floor. Her weight settled on the mattress by my feet.

“Promise I won’t touch,” she said. “I’m just eyes.”

I grunted and rolled my leg outward to open my hips. Oh, I knew that pressure so well by that point. I knew better than to doubt my body. More pitocin mixed with my blood, drip-by-drip, through the needle in my hand. I wasn’t sure if someone should’ve removed it by then, but whatever. I was gonna use it to my advantage.

The monitor around my belly beeped. I pressed my toes down and pushed before I truly felt the pain. Milo kicked the doppler again, like he realized he was finally being evicted. After a solid ten seconds, I relaxed with a nasally whine.

“He’s coming, Tess.”

“I know, doll.” Tess gently nudged my foot to a more grounded position. “Soon as I see ‘im, I’ll call a nurse. Ain’t no one gonna put ‘ya in that bed, I’ll make sure’a that.”

I scooted up more into a half-squat, one arm draped over the ball and the other wrapping around my knee. Chin-to-chest, I used the rest of the contraction to bear down against the familiar sensation of a baby sliding down my passage. I took frequent breaths between my efforts so I wouldn’t get dizzy, panting a small “Uh . . . Uh . . . Uh” with each exhale.

I didn’t need to throw my all into pushing, the contractions were doing most of the work. Maybe that pitocin was a blessing in disguise – I don’t know if I had the energy to make progress without it. Five pushes in, and I felt my inner walls stretch around the baby. My quiet whines and grunts escalated into growls as the pain grew sharper, and I flowered open wider.

“Damn, he’s huge!” I moaned as I eased off my most recent push. Forget “Bat Bean”, the fucking Chicago Bean was coming out of me!

“Remember, you’re pushin’ out the sac, too,” Tess said.

I hugged my hiked-up leg closer to my side, teeth gnashing in my skull as my face turned purple with effort. “Ugh!” I released a small bark of pain during a brief pause, then spent the rest of the push with a low growl in my chest. 

My labia brushed the crease of my thigh, the skin bowing out and preparing to stretch. I felt the inner structure of my clit get crushed as the mass of the baby pressed its way down. It was something I’d felt before in the past during childbirth – but never to the extent that it fired electric shocks of nerve pain down both legs. My toes curled as a ghostly, stabbing pain assaulted the arches of my feet.

I relaxed against the ball with a loud huff of air. “Tess, rub the bottoms of my feet,” I begged, my head falling back against inflated rubber. Thank god she did it without question, I was too embarrassed to explain.

Two contractions later, I was mid-push when a gout of hot water splashed onto the mattress. My focus was broken by the release of pressure, and I leaned forward to peer over my belly. A saw an expanding area of wet sheets between my thighs, darkening the color of the mattress as more amniotic fluid drained from me.

“He’s makin’ his way out, doll!” Tess grabbed the blanket and bunched it up around my rear to soak up some of the mess. “You’re openin’ up!”

“Ahh!” The arm holding my knee in place flew down to pry open my leg, fingers pulling at the skin where my thigh met my groin. My body pushed for me and my perineum thinned out and spread over the head as it dropped past my tailbone. 

“Fuck, Tess!” I whined, vocal chords straining. “Fuck, he’s hurting me!”

“Take it slow,” Tess said, patting my thigh. “Let it stretch.”

I arched back against the ball as my lips bulged outward with the size of Milo’s head. The arm draped over the ball was numb, but it was the only thing keeping me upright. The room reverberated with a roar I didn’t realize was mine as I felt that all-too-familiar fire blaze to life. My entire world shrank down to that inferno between my legs. The only thought in my head was to push down into it. My fingertips migrated beneath me, pressing against the hellfire in my perineum as the flesh pulled dangerously tight. I was aware Tess got up from the floor, but I was blind and deaf to the world.

The ringing in my ears muffled the sound of the door bursting open. My eyes flew open in surprise as a gloved hand gently nudged my fingers aside and cupped my perineum. A scrubbed nurse knelt in front of me, a mask covering her face from the nose-down – but even then, her eyes smiled at me.

“Good job, Fawn!” the nurse praised me. “Baby’s crowning. You’re nearly done!”

I flinched when someone else took my leg and hiked it up to my side. It was Tess. I finally understood she must’ve run and got help. I thought I heard a cell phone ringing, but no one else reacted to it. I accepted the fact I was hallucinating.

I threw my arm around Tess’s waist, unaware my fingers were coated in blood, and held tight as I pushed again. I gasped deep and screamed as I felt myself make quick progress once the top of his head breached the air.

“Don’t stop, doll. He’s comin’,” Tess said, her lips brushing my scalp.

Sweat stung my eyes, so I kept them squeezed shut. My whole body trembled, my nerves going haywire as Milo surged forward with a massive, unstoppable push. I felt the little bump of his nose traveling through the pouch of my perineum.  The nurse palmed the crown of his head, trying to let me stretch easily over his brow.

A loud slam caused everyone to jump, and the bright light of the hallway sent a migraine through my skull. The nurse turned to scold the two men scrambling into the room, but Tess saved the day:

“They’re the parents!” she cried. “They’re stayin’!”

I couldn’t pay attention to anything going on around me. With a roar of effort, I bore down until I heard the wet little ‘shlip’ of Milo’s head pushing free into the nurse’s hand.

“Owen! Silas! Here, now!” Tess ordered.

I heard two more bodies thump to the ground beside the floor bed.

��We’re so sorry, Fawn!” I heard a familiar voice yell – a voice that belonged to a man I’d only ever heard through the static of a screen.

“Later, Owen!” Tess snapped. “Focus on your baby right now! Do not miss this!”

I didn’t care about anything – I knew this baby was on his way out right then and there! Nothing else in my mind or body would function until he’d made his journey earth-side! I clung to Tess, who pressed my leg back wider as Milo’s thick shoulders started to press out of me.

“Push, doll. Push on ‘im hard,” she encouraged me softly, her voice like warm honey.

The nurse began pulling down on the baby, forcing his shoulder to pry my public bone out of place to come through. I don’t quite know what the sound I made was, but it didn’t sound human. The nurse pulled upward, and . . . 

“And we have a baby!” the nurse cheered as Milo’s body gushed out onto the mattress. A small trickle of leftover fluid followed his feet.

“Holy shit.“ My whole body relaxed as soon as that relief came.

My eyelids slid open when I heard that little guy make the sweetest newborn cries I’d ever heard. For a big baby, he had a small voice. Thin, blonde baby down was plastered to his scalp, and even while he was all squished and blotchy I could tell he looked like Owen.

“Oh, look how sweet!” the nurse sing-songed while she toweled Milo dry. “Isn’t he a perfect little man?”

A second nurse mysteriously appeared in the background. I peeked around Tess and saw the extra nurse fanning Silas with a laminated paper while he sat slumped against the wall, looking dazed. Owen kept looking at his husband over his shoulder, but his attention was constantly pulled back to his son.

“Oh . . . hey, guys.” I sleepily waved to the fathers. “When did you get here?”

Owen glanced back at Silas, who was rubbing his forehead and seemed to be coming around. “Just in time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I flipped through the pictures in my phone while I rode home with Tess. Milo and I had stayed in the hospital for a few days for observation. I’d needed a few internal stitches (wow, real shocker there) and they just wanted to keep an eye on Milo because of his troublesome gestation. At first, there was a little bit of concern because of how lethargic he was – but his bloodwork was fine, so I guess he was just a sleepy lad. He wasn’t awake in any of the pictures the Gillespies and I had taken.

There were countless photos of Milo being snuggled by all of us. Ray and Suri had popped in to see me the morning after I gave birth – mostly for Suri’s sake, she’d woken up crying over not being able to find me at home. I had a picture from that morning of Tess holding Milo in the room’s armchair while Ray held Suri up so she could see what my “belly buddy” looked like. Suri somehow looked confused, disgusted and amazed all at once. My favorite picture was the one Tess had taken of me and the family together. I was sitting up in bed and holding Milo while Silas and Owen sat on either side of me. All of us – except Milo, who was asleep with a binky in his mouth – were smiling wide at the camera.

One of the first pictures in my album was of Milo swaddled like a burrito a few hours after he was born, fast asleep in the baby cot beside my bed. His name, weight and time of birth were written on a card taped above his head. Beside that card was the paper cutout of a purple butterfly. 

In Silas’s first picture with his miracle baby, he was pale as death but still smiling. He’d needed to sit down for a while after passing out, but he’d held his little boy nearly every minute in that chair. He’d held Milo while they performed his medical tests, only allowing the nurses to take him away for his first bath. In the picture I’d taken after that, Silas was gazing at Milo with all the love in his eyes that a father could give – and Milo was wrapped in a fresh blanket with an embroidered purple butterfly on the corner. The Gillespies had brought that blanket with them.

At first I’d thought the purple butterfly cutout was just a decoration choice the hospital had made; but when Milo’s first gift from his parents had the same image, I’d asked why it was showing up so often. Turns out, that hospital had adopted The Purple Butterfly Project – an initiative that offered support for patients who had lost a child in a set of multiples. The cutout on Milo’s cot was meant to celebrate the life of his “flown-away” twin, as well as make staff members and visitors aware that he was the wingless half of a pair. It took on the burden of explanation, so Silas and Owen could bond with their son without worry.

My phone buzzed with a new message from my clients. It was a selfie Owen had taken of himself and Silas at the airport, with Milo snug in a sling around Silas’s chest. The picture came with the message: “Thank you for blessing us so deeply! We hope the joy you’ve given us will be repaid – with interest! Milo is going to be showered with love every day of his life. You’re more than welcome to keep in touch with our family, Fawn. We’re happy to let you watch Milo grow up with us. Love, Owen and Silas.”

I locked my phone and sat it face-down in my lap. “Hey, Tess?” I asked, watching the road unfurl beyond the windshield as we traveled the rural roads. “When will it be my turn?”

Tess glanced at me. “For what?”

“Being happy,” I deadpanned. “I’ve made three different families happy. You and Ray, the Gillespies . . . and my son’s parents. I just wanna know when my turn is.”

The rest of the car ride passed in total silence. When we parked in front of the farmhouse, Tess turned to look at me while she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Doll, there’s somethin’ I want ‘ya ‘ta see.”

Going upstairs was a herculean task with how stiff and full-body sore I was, but Tess held my hand and walked with me step-by-step. She brought me into the master bedroom and sat me down on her side of the bed. Tess opened her bedside drawer and pulled out a wooden box that was roughly the size of a checkerboard. She plopped down beside me and stared at the box in her lap for a moment before saying:

“I haven’t opened this since we brought it home. I couldn’t. But . . . I think now’s the time.”

I watched as Tess lifted the lid of the box, revealing a carefully folded fleece blanket with pastel stars printed on it.

“What is it?” I asked.

Tess lovingly took the small blanket in her hands and began unfolding it. Beneath the layers of fabric was a blue crystalline teddy bear sculpture holding a silver heart between its paws. Tess picked up the bear and held it in her palm – that’s how small it was.

“This is Ravi,” she said.

Once light hit the silver heart at a different angle, I saw the engraving on it: “Ravi Idris Tariq”, with a single date underneath. Tess turned the bear over in her hands so I could see the second engraving on its back: “I carried you every second of your life.”

“I wrapped ‘im in his blanket,” Tess said, her thumb stroking the bear urn’s head. “It made it feel more like I was puttin’ him down ‘ta sleep instead’a . . . y’know.”

I was too stunned to speak.

Tess set the baby blanket in the box and – tiny urn still in-hand – got up and walked to her closet. A quick rummage, and she returned with a different fleece blanket. This one was pastel rainbow colored and was covered in white stars, an inverse of the other.

“These came as a set,” Tess said. “We donated everythin’ he never got to use, except for this. This one’s special.” She rubbed the blanket on her cheek. “I prayed over this one. I asked Mother Gaia ‘ta allow my baby’s spirit ‘ta be linked to this earthly object, so that I could hold it and it would be the same as holdin’ him.”

Tess re-joined me on the side of the bed, clutching Ravi’s urn to her heart while she cuddled and kissed the rainbow blanket. “I still miss ‘im. I miss ‘im a lot,” she said. “Having this connection to him helps.”

After a minute, Tess set both blankets and the urn inside the wooden box. Then, she took my hands into her own. 

“Neither of us got ‘ta hold our little boys,” she said. “Mine was already in the arms of Mother Gaia, and yours was in the arms of his mama before you had the chance. That’s what’cha told us, right?”

I nodded, silent and enraptured. Tess smiled at me.

“Well, when you’re feelin’ more ‘yaself, I’ll teach ‘ya how to use my sewin’ machine,” she said, giving my hands a gentle squeeze. “You’ll pick out the fabric and you’ll make a baby blanket. That’ll be his baby blanket, ain’t no one else’s. I’ll ask Mother Gaia ‘ta bless it for ‘ya. When you feel all that love buildin’ up with nowhere to go, hold it. Hold your baby. He’ll be able to feel it, no matter where he is.”

I returned her smile, but my throat was almost too tight for me to speak. “I’d like that.”

We made a small shrine for Ravi’s urn on the mantle that night. Ray and Tess had Suri help set it up, explaining the existence of her elder brother to her in a way she would understand:

“Mama had a baby in her belly just like Fawn did,” Ray said, lifting Suri up so she could drop a few cut flowers from the garden beside the tiny blue bear. “That was before you were born. You were just a twinkle in Mama’s eye back then.”

“Where the baby?” Suri asked as her father plopped her back down.

“This is the baby,” Tess said, tapping on the silver heart between the bear’s paws. “He had ‘ta go back ‘ta Mother Gaia while he was still in my belly. This is where his body sleeps.”

I lit a few jarred candles and placed them on the mantle. From my back pocket, I pulled out the laminated purple butterfly cutout that had been taped to Milo’ cot at the hospital. I placed it upright against the mantle wall, so that two purple wings appeared to be sprouting from Ravi’s bear.

It wasn’t my turn to be happy, yet. I had a long way to go before I could start making my own dreams come true. Maybe school could wait a while. Maybe the money I’d earned throughout my surrogacy could be put to better use.

Maybe I was sick of staying on the path my own stupid choices had led me down. Maybe it was time I started making the choices I’d wished I’d made earlier.

I was tired of living in the shadow of grief Alexander had cast over my life. I’d lost everything because of him . . .

. . . but I was ready to start taking it back.

~ END ~

#Fawn Drabbles #birth kink #labor kink #mittysins #RP Drabble

[lieslab]

Enamored Remedy

Summary: Han turns himself into a magician to cheer you up while you struggle with the common cold.

Pairing: Han X gn reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

_ _ _

You took breathing through your nose for granted. The common cold caught you when you least expected it. Two days ago, you woke up with a stuffy nose, a pounding headache, and intense sinus pressure. No matter what you did, nothing seemed to work. 

Honey glazed cough drops quieted your cough for a few hours until it came back stronger than ever. The cold medicine you continued to take only provided comfort by causing you to get sleepy and drift off to sleep. The saline nose spray, the one you purchased out of pure desperation, cleared up your sinuses for twenty minutes, before they became plugged again. 

You were miserable and Han knew it. You pressed through the annoyance of it all and continued to go to work. You didn’t have a choice. You only received a handful of sick days throughout the year and you already used a few. Unless you wanted to use the rest, or get fired, you were forced to suck it up. 

On the third day, you came home and threw yourself on the couch. Pockets filled with snotty tissues and a red nose from where you kept blowing it, you were exhausted. Working while in this state was starting to take a heavy toll on you. 

You weren’t sleeping properly due to coughing so much. Your throat was sore and it hurt to swallow. You kept trying to sip tea with honey because that’s what Google recommended, but you hated tea. No matter what kind it was, you dislike the taste. 

At your wits end, you just wanted to fall asleep and reawaken when your body decided to come to its senses and work properly. Unfortunately, you couldn’t because that’s not how life worked. You were miserable and a snotty mess. Not to mention, you kept Han Jisung at an arm’s length away at all times. 

You dodged his puckered kisses and wiggled free from his hugs. He was working on a new batch of songs and the last thing you wanted to do was share your cold with him. He hated when you were sick because you were as stubborn as a mule. 

He could pout and whine and beg, but you’d never budge. You’d avoid physical touch like the plague until you were better. You let him make you tea and you’d let him pour your medicine, but that was it. No comforting hugs, no soft kisses, none of that. 

A round of mucus-filled coughs left your throat and you groaned while flopping over onto the side of the couch. At this point, you were starting to pray for a miracle. Something to take your mind off the sickly ache that clung onto you. Something to ease the throb of the headache behind your eyes. You shut your eyes and let out a sigh. 

Five minutes later, your miracle showed up in the form of your boyfriend. Han Jisung flung through your front door with a pep in his step. He glanced around the corner of the living room. His eyes glittered with excitement once he spotted you on the couch. 

“Baby?” He called out wondering if you were awake. 

“Hmm?” You responded without opening your eyes. 

This was far better than he expected. He slipped around the corner and made his way into the middle of the living room. “I have a surprise for you! Open your eyes!” 

You opened your eyes and blinked in shock. Han stood in an eggshell white button-down shirt with a black suit coat over it. Black dress pants adorned his legs and a bright ruby-red bow-tie was secured around his neck. 

A matching pair of white gloves covered his hands. A comically large top hat perched on the top of his head with a thin line of red lining the bottom. A shiny red cape fluttered behind him and followed his movements. To complete the look, there was a black wand in his hand with a white tip. 

“What the fu-” 

“Welcome, welcome to Han Jisung’s one man traveling magic show!” He waved the wand. A toothy grin sat on his face as his chipmunk cheeks puffed up from smiling. 

You couldn’t help, but laugh at how excited he looked. “The one man traveling magic show?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“And you just decided to stop in my apartment today?” 

“I had a special request put in by someone.” 

“And who might that be?” 

“Your secret admirer.” 

You chuckled and sat up on the couch. “So what kind of tricks can you do?” 

“All sorts of them. Watch this!” Han took a few steps back. He placed his wand on the fireplace mantle behind him and held up a thumb. “I can make my thumb disappear.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Take a good hard look at it and watch it carefully.” He moved his thumb around and wiggled it. He even tugged on it to prove it was real. He held it up, cupped his other hand over the front, and looked at you with wide eyes. “Are you ready to make it disappear?” 

You nodded while watching with amusement. 

“Go ahead and say the magic words.” 

“Abracadabra.” 

His face fell as he looked back at you. “Is that all the enthusiasm you’re going to give to me? I came all the way here from the JYP Building.” 

“Abracadabra,” you tried again a little louder.

Han’s eyes narrowed.

“Abracadabra!” Your voice raised. You coughed into your elbow, but kept your eyes on Han. 

He suddenly pulled back his cupped hand to reveal his thumb gone. “Ta-dah!” He grinned again. “Look at that, it’s gone. Where did it go?” 

“Is it hidden behind your cupped hand?” 

“Pft, no.” 

“Prove it.” 

Han quickly placed his other hand back over the other and pulled it away to reveal his thumb again. “Would you look at that! I brought it back! Now onto my next trick.” 

A smile began to tug at the corners of your lips. Han pulled out a coin from his pocket. “I can make this coin disappear and reappear from behind your ear.” 

“Wow.” 

“Uh-huh. Watch this.” With a snap on one hand, he caused the coin to disappear in the other. “Isn’t that crazy, baby?” 

You suppressed a laugh. “Where did it go?” 

He bent down and dug in his pockets. “Well, it’s certainly not there.” His eyes scanned the floor as he looked around. “Do you feel anything near your ear, sweetheart?” 

“I don’t think I do.” 

Han walked closer, his dark eyes looked into yours. He bent down, so your faces were only a few inches apart. He reached out towards your ear, placed his hand behind it, and pulled it back. Your eyes never left his. 

“Would you look at that?” He moved back and pulled his hand with it. When he opened his hand, the missing coin laid in the bottom of his empty palm. “It really was behind your ear.” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just sleight of hand?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You shook your head and continued to watch him. Your mind had been pulled away from your stuffy nose and sore throat. Your focus was completely on Han now. 

“And for my next trick,” Han said. He slipped the coin into his bottom pocket. He reached into the front pocket of his suit coat and tugged out a piece of orange fabric. He pulled on it until a yellow one appeared tied onto the end of it. 

He let out a sigh, “where is it?” He continued pulling on the handkerchiefs. You bit down on your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He continued to pull on the yellow fabric and a red one came out. 

“Did I seriously lose it?” He frowned and continued tugging at the fabric. One-by-one, different colored fabrics came out of the pocket. He pulled and pulled and pulled but the string of tied fabrics never seemed to end. 

You shoved a hand over your mouth. The pile had begun to create a small mound on the floor. The frustration plastered onto Han’s face was priceless. He tugged and tugged and tugged until he reached the end. A green handkerchief sat in his hand and he dropped it to the ground. The pile covered the tops of his black dress shoes. 

“Well that didn’t work, moving on. Let me try another one.” He reached into his pocket and a loud horn sounded. 

It caught both of you off guard. Your eyes widened and Han nearly jumped ten feet in the air. He jerked a small metal horn out of his pocket. A black rubber covering sat on the back of it. He grimaced and dropped it onto the floor where it landed on the rubber section and let out another small toot. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, you erupted into a fit of giggles. Common cold be damned, you couldn’t help it. Your body shook with laughter. Han stared at you for a moment with his lips pressed together. He tried to keep his own laughter inside, but when the two of you made eye contact, he burst. 

Falling to his knees, he leaned forward with laughter. The top hat fell off his head and rolled over the handkerchiefs. You clutched your stomach trying to properly breathe. After a few moments, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes. 

“I-I thought,” you sucked in a deep breath, “horns were for clowns.” 

“The party store only had so many objects and I was trying my best!”

You fell into another fit of laughter. Every time you remembered the look on Han’s face, it sent you spiraling. The wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and jaw dropped in shock, it was the funniest thing you had seen in a while. 

Han finally pulled himself up and dragged himself across the floor to you. He threw himself over your lap and began to silently laugh again. You ran a hand through his hair. “You’re such a goofball.” 

“I’m sorry, I really wanted to cheer you up, but I-” Laughter bubbled up inside him again. 

It took a while for the two of you to finally gain your bearings back. You wiped tears out of your eyes. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I love you so much. Did you mean for it to play out like this?” 

“No! I was trying to make you laugh, but I had different tricks picked out.” Han picked himself up off your lap to look at you. “I love you too, but I do have one more trick for you.” 

“You think you can do it?” 

“I can’t mess this one up.” He flicked his wrist and within seconds, a fake bouquet of flowers appeared in his hand. He pushed the fabric flowers towards you.

“Woah,” you glanced down in shock. This trick caught you off guard completely. “How did you do this one?” 

He grinned, “a magician never reveals his secrets, baby.”

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Taglist: @fairytaleskiess Requests are open.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fluff #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung fluff #kpop fanfic #skz fanfic #fanfic writing

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

Goths taking care of s/o when they’re sick

Henrietta:

- MAMA HEN ALERT

- I REPEAT, MAMA HEN ALERT

- She’s all over you, fussing at you whenever you try to do something yourself

- She literally babysits you and makes sure that you have absolutely everything you need

- Medicine? Check

- Water? Check

- That one really good soup you love from the restaurant all the way across town? You bet she’s getting in the car and making the trek to get you that soup

- She loves you and she’ll do anything for you

- Please just let her baby you, it’s in her blood to make sure that you feel good at all times

You were laying face down in your bed, stripped down to a tank top and a pair of shorts to escape the heat from your fever. The covers of your bed covered one half of your body, trying to keep a happy medium between being hot and cold. Henrietta sat in a chair by your bed side, one hand rubbing circles on the exposed skin of your back and the other scrolling through a remedies list on her phone. She had not left your side since you started sniffling last night. When you woke up this morning hacking up your lungs, she jumped out of bed and got you every kind of medicine you might need to get you through the day.

You picked your head up, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, throat burning like fire and only being able to semi breathe through one nostril. Turning to look at her, your laid your head back down, your eyes studying her as she intently scrolled on her phone. You smiled at her. The medicine she had given you just a little bit ago had made you loopy, and all you wanted to do was sit there and stare at her.

“Henri, I love you.” you squeaked, voice sore from your multiple coughing fits. She looked to you, giving you a soft smile. “I love you, too.” she responded, looking back to her phone. “No, I really do love you. You’re seeing me at my worst.” you added, closing your eyes as exhaustion started to set into your body. She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, this isn’t your worst. I was there on your 21st birthday.” she responded, setting her phone down and turning to look at you. You cringed as you remembered how drunk you got that night, barely able to make it inside your home before you tossed your cookies.

Her hand moved from your back, causing you to whine at the loss of her touch. She stood from her chair, making her way to the side of the bed that wasn’t occupied. Henrietta pulled the covers back, sliding into the bed beside you. You waited until she made herself comfortable before you turned on your side and slid closer to her, lazily wrapping an arm around her. She ran her fingers through your hair, smoothing the strands that stuck to your forehead. Your eyes closed, and soon, you were knocked out, holding onto your girlfriend like your life depended on it.

Michael:

- Michael is another baby-er

- If he was on tour, he’d send his parents over to go check on you and make sure you were doing okay

- If he was in the studio, he was immediately driving to you to personally take care of you

- He cuts himself off from the social world just to stay home unbothered, turning his full attention on you

- He’s the kinda guy who, if you ask him for something, instead of stopping for a second and thinking, he’s already on his way to the store

- On foot

- He forgets he has a car if you ask him for something, instead he’s right out the door walking to the closest store

- And don’t be surprised if he comes back with a lot more shit than you needed. He just picks up anything that makes him think of you

Michael’s keyring jingled as he fumbled through them, looking for the house key. He had just got back from the store, stocking up on anything you might have needed to help you get over your temporary illness. Finally finding the key, he jammed it into the lock and opened the door, stepping in and locking the door behind him. He quickly shrugged his jacket off, not bothering to hang it on the coat rack, instead letting it fall to the floor. The only thing on his mind was putting up your ice cream and making his way back to the couch to sit with you.

Michael quietly stepped past you, snickering to himself as he say you laying stiff as a board with a cold washcloth on your head and a sleeping mask to block out the lights. Making his way to the kitchen, he put up anything that needed to put up, grabbing a glass of water and a bag that had a different assortment of medicines. He didn’t know exactly what to get, so he opted to just get everything that he thought would help.

Stepping back into the living room, Michael made his way over to the couch you were laying on. He took notice that you had begun to breathe through your mouth, your nose having gotten stuffier while he was gone. The tall man sat on the edge of the coffee table and placed his hand on your arm, gently rubbing it to show he was there. “Hey, (Y/n). I know you’re sick, but you need to sit up for a second.” he whispered, not wanting to be too loud. You groaned in response, being cut short as another coughing fit racked through your body.

Michael winced as your body finally relaxed, assisting you in sitting up just long enough for you to take the medicine. It was painful to swallow, and you took a minute to recoil from the burn. Tears welped up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. Your boyfriend frowned, reaching his hand out to cup your face. Leaning into his touch, you relished in the fact that his cool hands helped to ease the burning of your cheeks. All too soon, Michael removed his hand and moved to the couch, pulling you to lay against him. He ran his fingers through his hair, humming some random songs until you managed to finally go back to sleep. Kissing the top of your head, he decided to take a nap himself, holding one arm around you.

Pete:

- Remember how I said he doesn’t like when you take care of him when he’s sick?

- Well forget that if you’re sick

- He’s over as soon as you wake up and tell him that you don’t feel good, carrying a few different containers of soup.

- And yes, he had been up almost all morning making those for you

- He will cuddle with you no matter what kind of sick you have

- My mans just loves you a lot, and while he doesn’t want you getting sick from him, he’ll gladly get himself sick trying to take care of you

- Really, you both end up sleeping all day

- He found out the hard way that when you’re sick, you’re clingy, and you’re not letting him go

Pete had just finished warming up some of his uncle’s homemade chicken noodle soup for you in your kitchen. He poured it into a bowl he pulled from your cabinet, grabbing the exact spoon that you prefer using (the little spoons are 🤌🏻🤌🏻), and made his way into your bedroom. Thankfully, you were just dealing with a nasty cold and not the flu, your only major symptoms being a sore throat, sneezing and a cough.

Opening your door, he stepped inside, shutting it behind him. He looked at you sitting up on your bed, picking at your nails as you put your full attention onto some random show that was on the tv. You had definitely gotten over the worst of it, but you still felt bad. Thankfully, Pete’s been there since you came down with the sickness (Oo ah ah ah ah), and he’s been nonstop caring for you. In fact, if it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have been taking your medicine as steadily as he made you.

Walking to the bedside, you finally noticed he had come in, turning your head and smiling at him. Scootching over to give him room, you grabbed the soup from him, allowing him to get into bed beside you before tucking in. You had practically begged him to get his uncle to make his famous soup recipe, and his uncle happily agreed when he heard that that you were feeling sick.

“Dude, if I could marry soup, I’d marry this soup right now.” you mused, happily enjoying the meal. He smiled, amused at your words. “It would go bad in a few days, I think it’s fruitless to marry soup.” he quipped back, looking at you. You sighed, pretending to cry about what he said. The medicine you’ve been taking has made you a little loopy, it didn’t take a fool to see that. “My soup husband. My soupsband.” you mourned over the loss of your pretend marriage. “Gone but never forgotten.” Pete added, causing you to cackle, only for a cough to rack through your frame. Your boyfriend rubbed your back, his heart breaking at the groan of pain you emitted after you settled.

“The only soupsband you’ll ever have is me.” he said nonchalantly, taking your empty bowl and setting it on your nightstand. “Yeah, probably. Oh well. As long as you make me soup and baby me when I’m sick.” you said, leaning on your boyfriend. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, letting you lean against him as you both laid back. The rest of the day was filled with soup, tv, and the comfort of each other.

#sp goth kids #south park goth kids #sp michael #sp henrietta #sp pete #south park michael #south park henrietta #south park henrietta biggle #south park pete #south park pete thelman #sp pete thelman #sp henrietta biggle x reader #sp henrietta biggle #sp henrietta x reader #south park henrietta biggle x reader #sp pete x reader #sp michael x reader #south park pete x reader #south park michael x reader

[harlowarchives]

❝ 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 SOME 𝐚𝐬𝐬!

•₊˙ ◌ 🌷 -> listen to: first class by 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰 & I WANNA SEE SOME ASS by 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, was the first show of Jack’s No Place Like Home Tour and you were suffering, You were coughing like a dying animal not only were you horse but you were congested, and your throat was sore. You tried every single cold remedy possible but nothing was working, Jack strictly advised you not to go. But you were stubborn and refused, an hour before the show started Your eyes were teary ruining your full face of makeup, you wore your First Class hoodie along with a pleated black skirt and knee-length cream boots with a beret with your name stitched into it Jack bought you in Paris. You heard the bathroom door open and Jack just stared at you stifling a smile trying to be serious, “Y/N you can’t be serious!” Jack spoke his tone spiking his tongue in his cheek, You stood up and he rotated your body taking in the view before pushing you onto the bed and pulling your boots off “Jack stop!” You yelled before he gently but forcefully pulled your hoodie over your head now you were in nothing but a bra & a skirt “Y/n I love you and you know! It hurts me more than anything not to have you with me but you need to get better and I couldn't live with myself if you went!” You frowned feeling him lift your chin “Fine, but what about our ritual?”

The ritual you were talking about was something the two of you had been doing since his first show ever, You “meditated” which was you and Jack just enjoying each other’s company for 15 minutes in complete silence then you'd do your handshake and he'd get on stage. Somehow he felt less nervous every time, “Babe I’ll call you I swear!” You forced a smile, he placed a kiss on your cheek his lips hardly touching you he ran out of the bedroom and “I love you, baby!” He yelled “I love you more…” Your smile faded letting out a cough from the depths of hell.

Well after the show started you got a FaceTime call from Jack You furrowed your eyebrows and watched Jack set his phone down on a stage pillar “Everyone say hi to my wife!” Jack smiled your cheeks warm A crowd of thousands yelled “HI Y/N!” A tear fell down your red-rimmed eyes “Look y'all she wasn't able to make it tonight because she wasn't feeling well is it okay if she's with us for the rest of the show?!” Jack yelled “YEA!” The crowd responded, “Alright we gonna do one of her favorite songs right now!” Jack looked over at you as ‘I WANNA SEE SOME ASS’ started to play you rocked to beat under the covers yelling the lyrics, “Fell in love with a stripper as if we gon be sum!” Jack smiled looking at the camera dancing in your direction. Nothing in the world could beat the love he had for you & the way he showed it made you feel like the most special girl in the world.

🏷️ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ⁱ : @lexxlovesjack @iknowdatsrightbih @iheartharlow @livsters @honeyharlows @killatravtramp @jackmanduh @itsyagirljaz

#fanfic #jack harlow #jack harlow fanfic #clay harlow #urban wyatt #jack harlow smut #jack harlow concepts #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt smut #harlowarchives #zoie 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ! ⁱ 🌷

[hutaoscoffinn]

UNDER THE WEATHER

Everyone is getting sick once again thanks to covid and the flu having another go around and I had two requests for a sick reader so headcanon time

Warnings: sickness, this is super fluffy, domestic Rika, fussy Rika, Rika taking care of you when you’re sick, gn! Reader, this is honestly really cute and domestic, so fun to write

Character: Rika of the Elite Four

Requests: OPEN

Sickness has been knocking everyone down these past years but its always before Christmas where it comes to a head

But don’t worry good ol’ Rika will take care of you

Rika will realize almost immediately that you are sick

She is incredibly perceptive when it comes to you so she notices when you wake up with a stuffy nose and a hoarse voice with a groggy look in your eye

She will immediately call you out of work, email your professors if you are a student, do whatever she needs to do to make sure your day is freed up

Don’t even try to get out of bed

Rika will not let you

She will be making sure you have medication at hand and if you don’t she will be going to the pharmacy to get some medication that you can take

After you’ve taken medication Rika will absolutely be making you some hot tea with honey to help soothe your sore throat and to give your body a little boost for fighting off whatever ails you

If the tea gets cold dont worry, Rika will warm it up again for you and she will make sure you drink it all

Hot tea is really helpful for whenever you’re sick and can help clear up your sinuses so save Rika some extra fussing and drink the tea

She just wants to make sure you feel better as soon as possible

She can’t have her baby feeling down now can she?

Speaking of fussing Rika will be fussing over you all day, making sure you are tucked into bed and not too hot nor too cold

If you’re feeling cold she will make sure you have some extra fluffy blankets at hand along with plenty of her sweatshirts to keep you warm

If you feel too hot she’s grabbing a loose tshirt and getting you cold water and some ice packs to help you cool down and will even turn down the temperature in your home if need be

Rika will also be making you some soup for while you are sick, whichever one is your favorite of course

Warm soup when you’re feeling ill soothes the soul and I stand by that

It’s comforting to have some hot soup when you’re sick especially when someone you love has made it for you

Rika will even feed you if you’re having trouble eating by yourself

She loves taking care of you so let her help okay?

Rika is incredibly insistent that getting proper nutrients is even more important when you are sick so she wants to make sure you eat as much as you can without making yourself feel worse

And of course, drinking water

Hydration is a key part of overcoming your illness quicker so you can expect Rika to be constantly filling up a cup of water for you

Every hour or two she will check in to make sure you have been drinking some water

If you have been drinking water, expect lots of praises from your very loving girlfriend

If not,,,

Well, be prepared for a bit of scolding

But don’t worry, being sick doesnt mean Rika will be fussing over you 100% of the time

She will probably take the day off to care for you, maybe even multiple if your sickness doesn’t let up

So while you are both at home, Rika will be by your side and holding you

She knows she could get sick but honestly she doesn’t really care

She’s more focused on making sure you start feeling better and obviously a good remedy is some cuddling in bed

Watching movies or some of your favorite shows with Rika, curled up by her side in bed is an upside to being sick

Usually your lives are rather fast paced without much of a chance to slow down for a bit, especially for Rika

Working for the pokemon league and being a member of the elite four isn’t an easy job and is definitely one that isn’t exactly an office job

So spending full days with Rika like this are rare

And even if one or both of you is sick, having the time to slow down and enjoy each other is needed and Rika is grateful for the extra time with you

Even if it means that when you feel better, she has a case of the sniffles

Guess you’ll just have to take care of her now, wont you?

Reblogs are always appreciated <3

#coffinn.writes #elite four rika #pokemon rika headcanon #elite four rika x reader #rika elite 4 x reader #elite 4 rika #pokemon rika x you #pokemon rika elite four #pokemon rika elite 4 #rika x reader #rika x reader fluff #pokemon rika x reader #pokemon rika x reader fluff #rika fluff #rika headcanons #this was so cute #ahhh I love domestic rika #domestic rika #domestic rika headcanons

[omegathebadbach]

Hay so I thought I would do a new one shot of the bad Bach on a modem and galaxy look arther omega as she is sick/ill and then one of the bad Bach and and y/n too

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Hunter ( I love this one when omega ask if anyone is out there and hunter is in panic dad/ daddy mode so that is why I pick this one I love it @tiny-badbatcher )

Me and my love y/n we was at home and omega was happy at school I was in my home office work and I was on my laptop in a meeting whit whit my work but about 10:30am the phone goes and my love y/n she was the one who had answered it she picked it up and she spoke to who had called us and she came into my work office she told me at she was going to omega school to pick her up as she was sick and she told me at she was going to take her pjs to omega school as she was sick on her school uniform so I told my boss about what happened and he said go to pick her up and he gave me a week off to help my love look l after omega when we got to omega school she kept apologised to us and we both say at she can’t help it if she was ill so my love y/n took omega to the staff toilets to change out of her sick uniform and put her in her pjs we booked her out and her mum sat in the back seat of the car as if omega was sick again she would be there to help her we got home and as soon as I lifted her out of the car to take her inside the house she was asleep but she woke up and she was sick again this time on me and she kept apologist to me for being sick over me and I told her it ok and she can’t help being sick we got her into her bed and she was soon asleep again and my love y/n took my clothes down the stairs to wash along whit omega school uniform and soon she was better but I soon got it and and as soon I was better my love y/n had got it but she was soon better.

Tech

Me and my dear y/n at home on saleucami as we decided to live there and omega was not feeling well she really bad norovirus we look arther her until she was better but I had it then my dear y/n had it and we soon got better.

Wecher (I love this one of him shouting)

Me and my baby girl y/n were at home and omega had the chickenpox so my baby girl y/n had given her baths whit oatmeal in and chamomile lotion to stop her from scratch and She was wearing socks on her hands to stop her from Icing and of course my baby girl y/n had them when she was little and omega was soon better form chickenpox but I on the other hand I had them and my baby girl y/n looked arther me and she did her home remedy’s for me and soon I was better (a/n: I did have chickenpox when I was younger and some tv show like Arthur he had chickenpox and he had an oatmeal bath so of Thay are old home remedy’s but yes I did have chickenpox and I got a scar on my nose form a chickenpox spot)

Echo



Me and my sweetheart y/n were on the ship the havoc marauder and omega had a very bad cold and me and my sweetheart were looking Arthur omega and she was better and then I got omega cold and Arthur I was better my sweetheart y/n had the cold and I looked Arthur her.

Crosshair

Me and my kitten y/n were at home and omega was at high school and we got a phone call from omega high school to say she had a sore throat so we went to pick her up and then take her to the doctors to get checked out as we got there kix looked over omega and then he prescribe her some antibiotics as it was very bad and as soon as omega was better I had got it and kix soon gave me antibiotics to make me better and then Arthur I got better my poor kitten y/n had it and she had antibiotics as well prescribed by kix and poor kix say all three of you got sick within a week of each other and I say I know and my kitten used Macton signing to talk to me because she was autistic so she use macton to communicate with me even when she was well she use it to tell me what she was doing soon she was better. (A/n: and yes I did have tonsillitis when I was little and the reason why y/n uses Macton to communicate it’s because it’s a way of signing and I use Macton to communicate some times)

——————————————————————

A/n: I hope you enjoy the bad Bach one shot of omega and the bad Bach and y/n be ill and sick and some of these illnesses I had so I thought I would use them for a one shot

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb omega #tbb #tbb tech #arc trooper echo #tbb hunter #bad batch #omega #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #clone force 99 #echo #tech bad batch #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #sickfic #sickness #this is so cute #cute fluff

[sabinaakther90]

What should be the Average Weight Loss Plans for Teenagers?

Every teenager should know about Weight Loss Plans for Teenagers. Losing weight in a healthy way is always beneficial for people of all ages.

It helps in boosting your self-esteem when you feel healthy from inside, therefore there must be a proper guideline that you should follow in your growing ages, which is the age between 12-18.

Anyone who has tried their hands at losing weight knows that it is quite a difficult task and it requires lots of hard work and dedication. So, before you jump into making a rigorous diet and workout plan, start changing the small habits of yours that lead to an unhealthy lifestyle.

For example, avoid having your lunch or dinner while watching television, stop having soda while eating your food, instead drink a glass of water, walk whenever it is possible. This article will help you achieve your goal in a healthy way possible.

#home remedies #home remedies for ear infection #Home Remedies for Spider Bites #home remedies ant bites #Weight Loss Plans for Teenagers #home remedies for sore throat #indian home remedies for sore throat #home remedies for sore throat in babies #at home remedies for sore throat #home remedies for sore throat baby #baby home remedies for sore throat #health #health insurance #health and human services #health and wellness #health and fitness #a healthy breakfast #about mental health #health benefits #banner health #better health #health definition #health equity customer service #otc medicine #best otc medicine for covid #otc medicine for nausea #Exercise #exercise bike #exercise equipment #plank exercise

[kradogsrats]

Hello ! You seem very knowledgeable about the practical side of life in the middle-ages and I love reading your takes on the TDP world-building... So, I am researching for the purpose of a fanfiction about Soren's illness and I intend Lissa to be a doctor. Could you tell me a little bit about what could the treatments for breathing diseases be in the TDP universe ?

HA okay so I don't think I actually know more about history than anyone else with an extremely casual interest, like I didn't study it in school except as adjacent to art history and I don't even read historical novels or fiction or anything? Though to be fair my mother-in-law is a legit academic medievalist publishing books about individual English manuscripts so maybe I just don't have a good calibration of "casual interest in history." Anyway, I don't have an answer off the top of my head, but that means I can walk you through my general research process!

Step 1: Decide on some parameters. Is there a real-life illness that you are applying for Soren? Is it a bacterial or viral illness, or a chronic condition like asthma? Are there additional symptoms that will need to be addressed, like fever? Do some research on the illnesses you are considering, and both their modern accepted treatments and "natural" remedies. (Ignore anything based on essential oils.) For example, some home remedies for cough and shortness of breath are:

Tea: with ingredients like ginger, honey, etc. which are believed to reduce coughing. Caffeine is also a natural bronchodilator, and since coffee is not naturally occurring in the TDP setting, tea is a good hand-wave source for it.

Saltwater gargle: more of a sore throat thing, really? But it might help with loosening mucus.

Other herbs: particularly mint (menthol), thyme, camphor, and marshmallow root. These can be incorporated into teas, or you can explore other delivery systems like more concentrated syrups or tinctures, breathing steam from infused water, or ointments applied to the chest/back.

You can also look at historical treatments for these illnesses, but that's sometimes actually quite hard to find information on. I'll usually look at anything from ancient Egyptian to the antibiotics era. Problems I've run into include things like "asthma was not acknowledged as a medical condition, so the treatment was basically 'breathe better'" or "pneumonia was so awful before antibiotics that you basically just died."

Step 2: Decide on what you're willing to allow in terms of stretching the setting. TDP is... not very medieval at all, actually? So I generally am willing to consider stuff that didn't develop until well into the 1800s. This can get particularly awkward with medical stuff, simply because we generally read any framework of medical understanding that predates the germ theory of disease and antiseptic sanitation as ignorant and primitive, and that makes having a medicine-oriented character come across as intelligent and informed is difficult. To that end, I generally just throw up my hands and say the TDP setting understands modern sanitation and germ theory.

The problem with that is that the germ theory of disease and corresponding antiseptic understanding required the invention of the microscope to be able to actually see bacteria. Prior to that, science understood contagion and various people theorized that disease was caused by some unseen particles or agent. (See the case of Ignaz Semmelweis and his discovery that washing your hands between touching cadavers and delivering babies reduced maternal mortality significantly, but was completely incorrect about why.) I would actually be willing to allow microscopes and the corresponding understanding of cells and bacteria into the TDP setting, I'd just describe them in a sufficiently old-timey and handcrafted way, but you may feel differently! (You can also just hand-wave it, of course... behave as if germ theory is common knowledge but never mention bacteria, etc. I mean, I guarantee that's what the writers would do if it came up.)

Generally my personal limits for something no longer feeling like it fits even the most advanced cutting edge of TDP science are things like petroleum products (the implications give me a headache), chemical electrolysis (eliminates a lot of synthesized chemicals), and penicillin-level antibiotics ("this cultivated natural remedy prevents infection when applied to a wound" is fine, but oral antibiotics for bacterial diseases are not). I don't take any of this into account when reading fic... it's just a helpful set of boundaries for consistency when I'm writing. (Also don't forget to check the actual source material: I somehow remembered the animal doctor using a stethoscope to examine the egg, but there's actually no stethoscopes anywhere in that scene or the later hospital ones. Which isn't at all to say you can't have them, but it would have been an interesting canon setting data point given that they weren't invented until the 1800s.)

Or, of course, you could ignore all of that and just go hard mode with Lissa struggling to balance Soren's humors via diet and bloodletting.

Step 3: Brainstorm how the more advanced elements you are allowing could be developed and transmitted. So taking the example of Lissa as a doctor (and oh my god what an idea, that's amazing): how and where was she trained (an apprenticeship, or are you going to include a university system)? What is the human medical community like (isolated individual clinics or some kind of guild network)? Where and how is research being done and how are practitioners informed of new discoveries or theories? (Is there a scientific journal-style circulation of pamphlets? Who verifies them? (That's a place where either a guild or a university would come in handy.) What is Lissa's level of interest in pushing the boundaries of medicine vs. delivering basic care, and how might Soren's illness change that?) A couple possibilities:

If Soren has an asthma-like condition that involves chronic inflammation, maybe she treats it with a form of Ephedra from the region between Neolandia and Duren. (I like trying to match biomes or environmental conditions when transferring real-world plants into TDP, but you don't have to.)

Maybe she hears of a mold that has been cultivated in Evenere that clears infections in wounds when properly prepared, and has to evaluate whether to attempt using it experimentally with Soren against the infection in his lungs.

TDP also has a whole secondary ecosystem of magical substances, which could be effective in various ways even without being used for dark magic spells. Plants from the Sun or Earth primal could have natural healing properties, and combined with ones from the Sky primal could particularly target respiratory symptoms. Basically, if you can't find a natural-ish treatment ingredient, make one up with a goofy name and say it's from Xadia. Maybe Viren goes to collect it himself at great personal risk.

Step 4: Consider magic! I assume part of what's behind making Lissa a doctor is exploring the relationship between magical and scientific medicine in intimate detail with her and Viren, which is amazing. How does the medical community (and/or Lissa personally) feel about magical healing? Is there animosity between practitioners of medicine and dark mages with healing spells, or collaborations that are stronger than either would be individually? Are there medical tools or equipment enhanced by magic (enchanted microscopes or stethoscopes)? Is there disagreement on whether magical Xadian ingredients are more effective than mundane ones for medicines? Does the medical community harbor feelings of resentful inferiority toward the powerful primal magic healing confined only to the elves, or pride in the completely non-magical accomplishments of human ingenuity? Is the overall future of humanity carried in the power of magic, or of science?

So those are overall the kind of things I consider and look up when doing worldbuilding for TDP fic. All the examples here are medical stuff since that's what was asked about, but it's basically the same for anything else from "I wish to intricately describe the fiber content and sources of this luxury clothing item and how it was made" to "I need to make it clear that this basement laboratory is equipped to deal with the possibility of small fires, because fantasy OSHA."

And here are a couple helpful links that I found while doing this:

Wikipedia - List of plants used in herbalism

Wikipedia - Herbal medicine (especially the section on preparations)

Wikipedia - Medicinal plants

Wikipedia - Timeline of medicine and medical technology

#oof no idea what to tag this as lmao #i'm not really in the habit of giving writing advice #anyway a couple of tdp fics that i dearly love have characters literally exclaim 'jesus christ' so there's that #kradogsfic

[jade-island-lives]

Take Stress Seriously, Or Else

So, I have been keeping you updated on things these past two weeks. That being said, I really wanna talk about what has happened to me in depth. Maybe because I want to process this, or because some of it might be funny, I don’t know. 

So, I don’t handle stress well. I’m like a fish in a fish tank, any amount of stress is going to affect my health negatively. But I also have this problem of powering through it, ignoring the signs of stress and wear. 

Ever since we moved, stress was building. I’m still in college, dealing with mental health problems, and trying to adapt to a new home. Yeah, I was gonna be stressed. 

But I think everything came to a head a few weeks ago. It started with car trouble. 

A couple family members ended up getting in car accidents, they were okay, but the cars had to be repaired.

Baily had to go in for spay surgery, and she is my baby, so of course I was worried. 

My purse, which had my wallet and all of my cards were lost and all had to be replaced. Which, was not a simple thing to do apparently as it took a full month or so to get everything back. 

Then one of my family members fell down the stairs, broke their sternum bone, and we had to go to the ER. We had gotten there at 9 PM; I managed to get home at 4 AM, and the family member had to stay overnight.

Did I mention I still had classes to attend and assignments to finish? Even with extensions, that stuff still had to be done.

Not long after that, I woke up to a fever, sore throat, cough, aches, chills, and congestion. A viral infection, probably the flu. I didn’t think much of it. I rested and took meds; I did remedies, all sorts of things. Thinking it would go away eventually. 

2 weeks later, the right side of my tonsils were still inflamed. It was so painful to swallow, I couldn’t even swallow water without pain. And my nose was still really congested, and my right ear began to hurt like hell.

And me being the idiot I was, I refused to go to a doctor, thinking of the money we’ve spent with the cars and the ER was too much already. 

Eventually the pain in my throat got so bad, I began to fear eating or drinking. So, I got a virtual visit with a doctor, who then proceeded to tell me to go to urgent care ASAP.

So, I did. I went to three urgent cares. The first one didn’t take my insurance, the next one was appointment only, and the final one took me. After a few hours of waiting and examinations, I was diagnosed with severe Sinitus and tonsillitis. 

Apparently, the infection had been brewing in my body for months now. And I think stress was the thing that set it all off, I don’t know. 

So, I’m on antibiotics now and feeling better. 

Guys, seriously, if you take anything from this story, it’s this. Don’t do what I did. Don’t wait, if your symptoms last over a week, go to the doctor. And please, take stress seriously. 

#not writing #important #health #tonsilitis #sinusitis #cw: medication #cw: medical #cw: surgery #cw: car accidents

[chasingwildflowers]

i just feel completely icky, my head feels stuffy and my throat is scratchy and sore, this cough is so annoying. i turn into the biggest baby when i’m sick. i’ve done three cov*d tests at home and all negative. yuck. but my favorite remedy is laying in bed and watching Elvis than watching Elvis movies and listening to vinyls on my record player while having tea.

[healthy-heaven]

Medicinal Garden Kit – BRAND NEW!

A Budding Herbalist's Dream: My Experience with the Medicinal Garden Kit - BRAND NEW!

I've always been fascinated by the natural world and the potential of plants for well-being. So, when I came across the Medicinal Garden Kit - BRAND NEW!, I knew I had to give it a go. After a few delightful weeks nurturing my very own medicinal herb garden, I can confidently say this kit is a fantastic option for anyone curious about cultivating their own natural pharmacy at home.

Everything You Need to Get Growing

The minute I opened the box, I was impressed by the completeness of the kit. It included everything a budding herbalist like myself could ask for: a curated selection of seeds for various medicinal plants, well-labelled for easy identification. These weren't obscure or difficult herbs either; the kit focused on popular and easy-to-grow varieties like calming chamomile, immune-boosting echinacea, and soothing lavender. There were also handy biodegradable pots, perfect for starting the seeds indoors before transplanting them to a larger pot or garden bed. This eco-friendly touch was a welcome surprise, and it meant I could get started right away without having to source extra containers.

A Guide for Every Green Thumb

The kit also came with a comprehensive guide that proved to be an invaluable resource. It wasn't just a generic planting instruction pamphlet; it offered detailed information about each medicinal plant, including its uses, benefits, and specific growing requirements. This was particularly helpful for someone like me, who was new to the world of herbal gardening. The guide also offered clear instructions on seed planting, pot care, and eventual transplanting outdoors. With this informative guide at hand, I felt confident in my ability to nurture these little plants into a thriving medicinal haven.

The Joy of Cultivating Your Own Medicine

There's something incredibly rewarding about cultivating your own medicinal plants. Watching the tiny seeds sprout into verdant little seedlings filled me with a sense of accomplishment. The guide's advice on proper watering, sunlight, and pest control helped me ensure the continued growth of my herbal babies. Every time I tended to my miniature garden, I was not only nurturing these plants but also my own connection to the natural world and its healing potential.

A Sustainable Source of Wellness

The best part about the Medicinal Garden Kit is the promise of a sustainable source of natural remedies right in my backyard. The herbs included in the kit are known for a variety of purposes, from soothing ailments like coughs and sore throats to promoting relaxation and better sleep. The prospect of being able to harvest these herbs for homemade teas, tinctures, or even culinary uses fills me with excitement. It's a wonderful way to take charge of my well-being and explore the power of natural remedies in a safe and sustainable manner.

Overall, the Medicinal Garden Kit - BRAND NEW! is a fantastic product for anyone interested in starting their own medicinal herb garden. It's informative, well-equipped, and incredibly rewarding. Whether you're a seasoned gardener or a curious newbie like myself, this kit provides the perfect platform to cultivate your connection with nature and explore the potential of plants for a healthier you.

#health & fitness #health and wellness #healthcare #healthylifestyle #asexual #mental health #wellbeing #wellnessjourney #agritech #gardenseeds #herbalism #medicinal herbs #medicinal garden kit #medicinal plants

[being-healthy365]

A Lifesaver for Minor Maladies: My Experience with "The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies"

For years, I've navigated the world of minor ailments with a shrug and a dose of over-the-counter medication. Headaches, coughs, upset stomachs – they were all just a part of life, right? But then I discovered "The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies," and let me tell you, it's been a game-changer.

A Wealth of Wisdom at Your Fingertips

This book isn't some dusty tome filled with dubious folklore. It's a comprehensive and well-researched guide packed with practical advice from doctors and healthcare professionals. The authors, Don Barone, Judith Lin, and Deborah Grandinetti, have compiled "thousands of tips and techniques," as the title suggests, for a wide range of common health issues. From soothing a sore throat to calming a restless baby, there's a wealth of wisdom waiting to be discovered within its pages.

Simple Solutions, Big Results

What truly impressed me was the book's focus on natural and readily available remedies. Forget expensive concoctions and confusing instructions. "The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies" emphasizes simple solutions you can implement with ingredients you probably already have in your kitchen or pantry. A spoonful of honey for a cough? A cool compress for a headache? These age-old techniques are given a fresh perspective, often with scientific explanations for why they work.

Empowerment Through Knowledge

Perhaps the most valuable aspect of this book is the sense of empowerment it provides. By offering a variety of home remedies for common ailments, it allows you to take charge of your well-being and address minor issues before they escalate. There's a clear distinction made throughout the book between situations that call for a doctor's intervention and those that can be effectively managed at home. This knowledge is invaluable, saving you unnecessary trips to the doctor's office and giving you peace of mind.

A Wellspring of Inspiration

"The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies" is more than just a collection of remedies. It's a springboard for a more proactive approach to health. The book delves into preventative measures, encouraging healthy habits and lifestyle choices that can minimize the occurrence of minor ailments in the first place. It's a subtle nudge in the right direction, inspiring you to take control of your health journey.

If you're looking for a trustworthy and informative guide to navigate the world of minor health concerns, "The Doctor's Book of Survival Home Remedies" is an excellent choice. With its accessible language, practical solutions, and focus on empowerment, it's a valuable addition to any home library.

#doctor's book #home remedy tips #books

[hitchin]

How Do You Treat A Cold Or Flu When You’re Pregnant?

Although being pregnant is an exciting time filled with anticipation, there can be certain difficulties along the way, particularly in terms of one's health. Having the flu or a cold when pregnant can be especially difficult because over-the-counter drugs are sometimes prohibited. But you can safely treat these infections and keep you and your child safe with a little thought and care, as suggested by the experts at the Private Ultrasound Scan Clinic in Hitchin.

Rest:

To help your body heal, get lots of rest.

Keep Yourself Hydrated:

To keep hydrated, consume lots of liquids, including water, herbal teas, and clear broths. This is beneficial to general health and helps ease symptoms such as congestion and sore throats.

Warm Salt Gargle:

If you have a sore throat, gargling with warm salt water will assist.

Humidifier:

Adding moisture to the air through the use of a humidifier can help relieve dry throats and congestion.

Nasal Saline Drops:

Saline nasal sprays or drops can be used to treat nasal congestion.

Acetaminophen (Tylenol):

For pain relief and fever reduction during pregnancy, acetaminophen is usually regarded as safe. You must speak with your healthcare practitioner before commencing any pharmaceutical regimen while you are pregnant.

Avoid Certain Drugs:

Unless specifically recommended by your healthcare professional, several drugs, particularly those containing aspirin or ibuprofen, should be avoided during pregnancy.

Inhale steam:

Inhaling steam can aid in the release of mucus and the reduction of congestion. To prevent burns, employ caution when using hot water and keep your face at a safe distance from the surface.

Speak with Your Healthcare Professional:

See your healthcare practitioner at the Well-Being Scan Clinic of Hitchin if you have severe symptoms or if you have questions about whether drugs are safe to use while pregnant. They can offer advice, depending on your particular circumstances.

Avoid direct contact with ill people, wash your hands often, and maintain proper respiratory hygiene by covering your mouth and nose when you sneeze or cough.

Keep in mind that each pregnancy is different, so what suits one woman may not be appropriate for another. Before attempting any home remedies or using any medications, especially while pregnant, always check with your healthcare practitioner. Seek medical assistance at the Baby Gender Scan Clinic in Hitchin, as soon as possible if you have severe symptoms or if you are concerned about your health or the health of your unborn child.

Also Read: How can I stay stylish during pregnancy?

#private ultrasound scan hitchin #growth scan hitchin #well being scan clinic hitchin #fetal well being scan hitchin #baby gender scan clinic hitchin