The Everlark Family: Book 1

22 - Anticipating

Seven months had passed, leaving me with an eight month bump. Willow would lay her ear against it almost everyday to hear the baby kicking. And just as she had wanted, we were having a boy. It seemed that Willow was even more anxious to see the baby than Peeta and I were. She was adamant on guessing what hair color he would have or what eye color. As for me, I was just as curious about what personality he would have. Peeta would always joke about how the baby would take after my stubbornness.

The baby shower we had for him was beautiful. Peeta made cakes and brought bread from the bakery. Effie, Haymitch, and Dane came. Even my mother stopped by for a few minutes to congratulate us. She had been overwhelmed at the sight of how beautiful Willow was that it brought tears to her eyes. And I had missed her so greatly.
It had been more than a decade since I last saw her. She had aged, but her eyes were still warm and loving. Her hair was almost gray, but she was still herself. She also finally got to meet Willow. Tears stung in her eyes as she hugged Willow. I had never seen my mother's eyes so lit up with happiness. For the first time since Father was alive, I had truly seen her happy.
I took that time with her for granted, because I knew that I could never see her again. 

Peeta made him a wonderful crib. He also painted his son's room with cloud designs. His room was an extra storage closet that we hardly ever used, but it would work very well for our new son.  Everything was looking up.
The next month passed. And now it was December--December 2nd.
Nerves began to flood into my veins. Nightmares of the baby would cloud my mind at night. There was no hiding the fact that we were nervous. Peeta was nervous for me. Especially the nights that I couldn't sleep, which have been most nights. 

 I sat at the table unwillingly listening to Willow complain about how hungry she was. Peeta hadn't come home yet and it was past ten at night. My anxiety was really starting to peak.
"When is he coming home!?" Willow groaned.
"I don't know, hun." I sighed. "Dad's coming home soon."
"How soon?" Willow questioned.
"Soon."
"How soon is soon?"
I turned to face her. "Soon enough."
Willow let out a big sigh as she joined me at the table. "Mommy, when is he going to come out?" "I hope not tonight." I smiled down at her while she put her ear to my stomach. 

"What's his name going to be?"
"I don't know. There's Hunter or Rye. Which one do you like, Honey?" I asked, sweeping the bangs away from her face.
"I like Rye."
"That's a good name."
Ten minutes went by until I heard the glorious crunch of snow approaching the door. Thank God Peeta was here. 
The door swung open and Willow flew off her chair, tightly hugging Peeta's leg.

"Peeta, where were you?" I gently stood up and walked to meet him at the door, holding my protruding stomach. "I was getting worried."
"I know I shouldn't have left you so long. I just had to stay overtime and help Dane out."
"As long as you're okay."
"Seems like you're getting bigger everyday." Peeta smiled and rubbed my stomach.
"Who's hungry?"
"ME."  Willow exclaimed.
"Okay," Peeta chuckled as he set a brown bag onto the kitchen counter. "It'll only take a second to make grilled cheese."

 I held my stomach and walked over to Peeta, planting a kiss on his neck. He turned to face me and kissed me back. "How's the baby?"
"Good, just more pain than yesterday." I replied.
"I can tell you're worried, don't be. It will all be okay."
I nodded, though Peeta's words did nothing to ease my anxiety. "The thought that he could come any second now, it just scares me. That's all."
"I understand, but don't stress--"
"I know, stress is bad for the baby." 

Soon the sandwiches were done and they were delicious. Then after Willow was finished, we put her to bed. Peeta and I followed shortly after. 
"I love you." Peeta said as he turned the light out. I laid in bed next to him, a small smile on my face. Then that smile faded at the thought of the baby. "Peeta, I'm scared," I looked down at my stomach in fear, "what if--"
"Katniss, it'll be okay. There's no what ifs. Don't stress yourself out, okay?" Peeta replied, caressing my head.
I nodded without any reply.
"Good night, Love." Peeta kissed my forehead.
"Good night, Peeta."
Immediately after I said those words, pain started to jab at me.