My Crazy Fake (I Wish It Were Real) Life

Loki and I Have a Mini-Me

The baby was so tiny in my arms I was afraid I would hurt him. My face was still moist with tears and I held my son closer to my heart. "Hello, my darling," I cooed. He held up his little fists and shook them, making little baby sounds. My baby had a small, wet mop of black hair on his head. Already, he was looking like his father.
Speaking of my husband, where had he gone off to? I didn't blame him, he had gotten nauseated just watching me eat all the strange combinations I had come up with. The baby I was holding was minutes old, and there was no way he could have watched me for the past few hours. I had sent someone to go find Loki, but they hadn't returned yet.
My hair was a mess, my dress damp with sweat and I only wanted to sleep. My child had already done so, looking so peaceful with his eyes closed. I laced my baby in his cradle and watched him fit for a moment before settling again. I walked back over to my bed and collapsed on my covers and piles of pillows. I was asleep in seconds.
Loki woke me when he came back. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder. "I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too, Olivia. So, so much. I'm so proud of you."
"I'm so tired and I feel so weak."
"You are anything but weak. You are strong and courageous and powerful..."
I sunk into his arms, listening to his heart beating. "I suppose you want to see our son."
Loki perked up. "Son?"
I laughed. "Yes, you have a son."
Loki carefully hopped off the bed and walked over to the cradle, where he knelt down and peered over the edge. "He's my son?"
I nodded, "Yes, Loki. You're a father."
"I am a father. You are a mother. I am a father. You are a mother. He's perfect."
"He even has black hair," I laughed.