Palestwinians - One Shots.

VI. Yasmine's POV.

I looked at the couch.

Then I looked towards our bedroom.

My bed was ten times more comfortable but my bedroom was ten feet too far.

Did I settle for comfort or convenience?

I let out a defeated sigh and wobbled my may over to the couch. Now that I had just gone over the eight month mark of my pregnancy, I was easily drained by the smallest of actions. Lifting a pot, bending to rummage through the fridge, having a shower and even something as simple as heaving myself off the couch left me out of breath. My first pregnancy with Muhammed was smooth sailing but now at my second, I was finding much more difficult to bear. Who ever titled the illness as 'morning sickness' clearly didn't suffer like I did all day and all night. To top it off, my daughter was perched right on my back bone so any thought of sleeping comfortably went out the door.

It was getting tougher and tougher and I wanted nothing more than to have my baby girl already.

I relaxed back against the couch and closed my eyes.

Alhamdulillah.

Every time I had these thoughts I made sure to thank Allah for the blessing of another child. I knew that there were others out there wishing to be in my position and Zach always reminded me that for every ounce of pain I felt, I was getting rewarded.

Why do you think heaven lies at the feet of the mother? he'd always say in an effort to make me feel better. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes, when I had my head down a toilet bowl, it didn't.

At least I had managed to put Muhammed to sleep.

I checked the time on our digital clock that was hanging on the wall and realised that Zach was ten minutes late. Mum had sent over some lasagna for us both, since she believed I shouldn't be cooking this far into my pregnancy. I had already warmed it up but now I'm sure it was getting cold.

Just as I was about to reach for my phone to call him, I heard keys rattling outside the door before it was opened and closed. Shuffling feet headed my way and I smiled at the sight of an exhausted Zach as he appeared by the living room.

"Rough day?" I asked, watching him make his way towards me.

He rubbed at his eyes and flopped down next to me. "What a horrible day," he mumbled.

I ran my hand through his hair and as always, he closed his eyes and leant back against the headrest. "Aww I'm sorry darling. At least your boss will be leaving soon, then you don't have to deal with him."

"Mmm true." He opened his eyes, grinned and then pecked me on the lips. "Asalamu alaikum."

I chuckled. "Wa alaikum asalam."

"How are you feeling today?" he asked, green eyes roaming across my face.

"Fatigued. But what's new?"

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "And how's my little princess?" He began planting several little kisses all over my stomach and I giggled at the ticklish feeling.

"S-stop, you know I'm ticklish there!"

He sent me a boyish grin. "I know that's why I keep doing it."

"Oh, so you're not really kissing our daughter then, you're just trying to torture me? She'll know about this!"

An amused smile grazed his lips. "Don't worry, she'll forget all about it after I shower her with toys, toys and more toys."

"We will not be raising a spoilt child, do you understand!" I demanded, raising one finger.

He simply laughed. "If only you could see yourself with Muhammed. You spoil him more than you think."