Deep breaths |b.d.h|

599 28 11
                                    

TW: cussing, yelling, pregnancy/labor, praise kink, and slight exhibitionism
WC: 3125
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I feel like shit. I've been the size of a house for like 3 months now and I'm over it. I'm really excited for the baby, don't get me wrong. I just wish they would make their grand appearance already. My body has been changing so much, in ways I wasn't prepared for.

I mean of course my mom would tell me stories about me and my brother. I guess being pregnant also means automatically wanting/needing advice. Every one under the sun wants to tell me about their experience. I'm grateful for the concern but at the same time, I didn't ask.

In addition to my boobs and my fucking feet growing damn near twice their size. My mood has been so unstable, constantly fluctuating. My 'normal' is now just mildly annoyed, I can never seem to get comfortable. Billie has helped a lot and has managed to keep me calm for the most part.

However, she can't always be with me as she has her own responsibilities. One of them being her show of course. It takes up a lot of her time and I didn't really mind before. It kind of irks me now but I try my best to be supportive. Today just pushed me over the edge though, literally.

"Ah" I groaned as I felt a movement in my stomach. "Listen, my little bundle of joy, I need you to sit still for mama, ok?" I mumble to the little gremlin and they kick me in response. We also haven't figured out a name yet, mainly because we decided to wait for the gender. It actually makes it more fun for me, surprisingly.

I thought I'd be stressed out about it but decorating the nursery in neutral colors had been nice. It's mainly pastel in Billie and I's favorite colors which I suppose one would say aren't gender neutral. I mean pink and blue are classic but they're also just colors so whatever.

"God da-" I inhale sharply as I feel another movement but this time it hurts. I go to stand up so I can walk around thinking it'll help. Gravity, per usual, does it's fucking job and the floodgates open. I look down in disbelief, blinking slowly as I process what's happening.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me" I whine softly, placing my hand gently over my stomach. Well, guess I better get this show on the road. I go to call Billie and it goes to voicemail, once... twice... thrice. "It's ok. Just relax... keep calm, everything is going to be ok" I whisper to myself.

I waddle over and down the hallway to one of the guests rooms. We agreed to keep the baby gear for the hospital downstairs to prevent any back and forth. I grab the little wagon and place the necessary items in. "Alright. Diaper bag? Check. Car seat? Check. Our clothes? Check" I run through the list as fast as I can.

I open my mouth to ask Siri to call Billie but I suddenly get another pain which I know now are contractions. "Yo! Jesus fu- Hey, Siri? Call Billie" I groan and the phone states ringing. I throw it on top of the shit and start walking towards the door. It goes to voicemail again and I have to hold back a scream.

Not because of the pain, it's because this is really getting on my last nerve. I keep calling her back to back and she's not answering. I try to take deep breaths as my contractions get closer together. They're about a half hour apart so I wait until the current one passes to start driving.

My destination being her studio of all fucking places, when I'm supposed to be going to the hospital. I keep calling her and keep getting sent to voicemail which furthers my frustration. "Ok. Let's just listen to some music. What do you wanna hear baby?" I ask and, fortunately, feel nothing.

"Saint-Saëns it is" I decide, putting on one of the classical songs. I make it to the studio with minimal problems. However my anger is still very very high and I intend to quite literally bite Billie's head off. I carefully get out the car and waddle as fast as I can over to the door.

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