CHAPTER FIFTEEN: PREGNANT
I am at the local store the moment I am able to fathom anything. I stuff several pregnancy tests into my shirt. A little stealing can't hurt. 12 is small, word travels fast, and I don't want anyone to suspect anything.
It must have been defective. Yes, that is it. It was old, it had been sitting there for ages. I can't be pregnant.
When I get home, I drink as much water as I can, waiting impatiently for it to take action. Finally, when I have to go, I take three tests and place them carefully on the bathroom counter.
And I wait.
Waiting is painful, I realise.
I do everything I can do make the time go quicker. I drink more water, I run up and down the stairs twenty times, I even turn to watering the primroses - which have come back in full bloom each year, I might add - but I still end up back in the bathroom, waiting.
When at last the longest ten minutes of my life are over, I rise to my feet. The word NO is imprinted in my mind, so much so that when I read the tests, my stomach sinks out of expectation.
But then I read them. Really read them.
Positive. Positive. Positive. All three are positive.
I'm pregnant.
At first, I'm sure it cannot be true. I read all the boxes again, making sure that I've read the instructions right, which I have. And then I re-read the tests, and I've read those correctly too.
I am pregnant.
I sink to the ground in confusion, head falling into my hands. Am I really pregnant? I must be. After all these years, I'm really pregnant.
When the initial shock has come, I hear the whistling through the open window. Peeta. If I can hear him whistling, it means in about thirty seconds, he will be up here, looking for me.
Hastily, I shove the first test in my jean pocket, then realise I don't have room for them all. So I sweep them off the counter and into the toilet, and I flush. There is a gurgle, then one test goes down, two boxes. . . another test. Another one. And then the last box.
I sigh in relief as the door opens.
" Katniss?"
" I - I'm just coming!" I call in reply.
I hear Peeta's footsteps as he walks into the kitchen. Then I let out another sigh of relief, and look down at my flat stomach.
" You and I, we're going to make it through this," I whisper. " For Peeta, you have to live."
I'll tell Peeta soon, if the baby's still here. But for now, it has returned. I can feel it. Like a candle in the dark. A glow in the cold. A whisper in the silence.
Hope.
Against all odds, I keep quiet. I stop my lips from grinning, I stop my hands from shaking. I take a test everyday, and surprisingly, my baby is still with me. Inside of me.
After about a week though, I have passed the doting mother stage, and the fear kicks in. I shiver. I can't stop my hands from shaking, my legs too. I can't stop my teeth from chattering, and my lips pulling back in a grimace.
I have regular nightmares, but this time about a faceless baby. All I see is a pouty smile, a tiny leg, before my baby is ripped away from me. I always wake up screaming. I lie to Peeta and tell him the dreams are about Prim, and then the comforting turns to kissing. I don't let it get much further than that, which also seems to confuse him.
" Katniss, are you okay?" he asks randomly one day.
I look up from my tea and meet his eyes. " Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"
" It was. . . nothing."
Then things fall into silence. Silence, which normally leads me to thinking. Thinking about the baby. The baby, which leads my hands to shake, and my hands shaking, which leads to throwing up.
Fun.
Haymitch comes over two weeks after I find out to visit. He is drinking some brown liquor, which must be strong, because when Peeta tastes it, his face screws up.
" Katniss, you've got to try this," he says, shoving it in my face.
" Um, I'd rather not," I say.
" Why not? Scared?" Peeta smirks.
" Yup," I reply, fiddling with my table cloth. " Terrified."
Haymitch looks at me for a long time before standing, grunting loudly in the process.
" I had better get going - Katniss, want to walk me home?" he asks.
" Well, I tho-"
" It's fine," Peeta says, " I'll clean up."
" Thanks," I say, turning and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Haymitch walks several yards in front of me and I lag behind. When we reach his home, he turns to me and grins.
A genuine smile.
" You're pregnant, aren't you?"
And who am I to squelch his happiness? " Yes."
He throws his head back and laughs. " Well I'll be damned. Didn't think it would ever happen."
" And why not?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.
" Because of what Dr A said, you dimwit."
He says the words with such affection that I'm forced to smile. He opens his arms and I rush into them.
" I'm happy for you, Katniss. Really."
" Thanks," I mumble into his chest.
" I'm guessing you haven't told Peeta yet?" he asks as we separate.
" No." I admit guiltily.
" That kids hurting, Katniss. You have to tell him eventually." he tells me.
" I know," I mutter.
Then he looks me in the eyes. " And that doesn't mean in nine months, when you're in labour."
I smile as he walks inside, his door clicking closed softly.
Although I would like to stay on the safety of his porch forever, I know in have to go home soon.
When I get inside, Peeta is sitting on the armchair, watching the fire.
" Come sit with me."
I nod carefully, and walk over. Peeta pulls me into his lap. And we just sit like that for a while, watching the glowing embers of the fire.
" I'm tired," I whisper eventually. " Can we go to bed?"
" Me too."
So we go to bed.
Fourteen days turns out to be a very long time, at least when you're waiting for something. I try to keep busy, but to be honest, all I can think about is it. The baby.
And yes, I do have mood swings. One minute, I will be telling Peeta how amazing he is, sometimes making myself cry, and then I will scream at him for getting flour on the floor. It is so unlike me that it has to make his alarm bells go off, but he never says anything. He's too sweet for that.
And the throwing up continues.
One day, we are in bed, the moonlight casting light on Peeta's pale skin. His hands wind through my own.
My heart is thudding in my chest, because I know that this is the perfect opportunity. That I have to tell him.
" P-Peeta?"
" Huh?"
" I - nothing."
Great. I've chickened out. Then, I hear his breathing slowing, and know he is on the verge of sleep. I am anything but. I have to tell him.
" I'm-"
Then snoring starts. And I know I've missed my chance.
" I'm pregnant," I whisper to myself, just to try it out.
And then the snoring stops, just as abruptly as it started, and the sheets rustle as he angles his body to face mine. Oh, God.
" Katniss?"
" Yeah," I breath.
" Did you just say you're-"
" Yeah."
He sits up, and I follow, watching as his bottom lip quivers.
" You - you didn't tell me. . ." he mutters.
I take his hands, but he still doesn't look at me.
" I wanted to be sure, Peeta." I say.
" And you're sure?"
" Positive."
And then I notice the wetness in his eyes. The tears falling down his cheeks, and he pulls me forward, kissing me soundly.
" Are you happy?" I ask.
His forehead is against mine and he is holding my face in his hands as he whispers, " So, so happy, Katniss."