It Started With a Cake

Ch19. First Kicks

Half way there, twenty weeks down and roughly another twenty to go. Looking in the mirror at myself, an occurrence that happens way too often nowadays, proves that I really am pregnant. Not that I really had any doubts, I'd seen the scans and I have been feeling the symptoms, but now I really had a bump and it was now very obvious to the outside.

Sighing I walk past the mirror into our closet, I pick out some soft stretchy leggings and one of Peeta's old tops, a pregnancy classic outfit. Then because I'm cold I pull on one of Peeta's sweaters and a wooly pair of socks before padding my way downstairs.

I think about cleaning up the kitchen from lunch where Peeta had come home from work and cooked for the both of us, but I can't find the energy.

So instead I make a little cocoon of blankets on the couch, not intending to but ultimately falling asleep all swaddled up in it.

Slowly my eyes flutter open as I hear the door open, but realising it's just Peeta home from work they periodically shut again.

I hear him snigger before quietly settling in.

When I open my eyes again I'm surprised to find myself face to face with Peeta.

"Hi" I whisper.

"Hey" he whispers back. "You look comfortable" he comments.

"Yeah" I laugh, reluctantly sitting up allowing him sit next to me.

"Are you hungry?" He asks me, though it comes across more as a statement, of course he knew I'd be hungry he was just asking what I wanted.

"Yeah" I reply simply, taking a moment to think over the implied question. "Um I'm really craving lamb stew, and cheese buns of course" I give him a sad pout, hopefully letting him know that I was sorry for being so demanding, Peeta however just gives me a comforting smile.

"Well we don't have any lamb but I could make it work, we still have some meat from your last hunt" he says thoughtfully.

I grin back up at him, "you're the best"

He smiles back pressing a kiss to my forehead before wandering into the kitchen.

Once he's gone I settle back into my cocoon, finding a comfortable position to rest in.

I rest peacefully as a concoction of sounds and smells arise from the kitchen, sending my saliva glands into overdrive; I don't think I realised how much I had been craving this.

Suddenly a muffled sound of pain escapes me, it takes me a moment to realise the pain I was feeling was from my stomach.

And then it happens again. My hands travel down to my abdomen, coming to rest on my bump right under where our baby sits. Then I'm suddenly reminded of the baby once again and a horrible thought comes to mind; what if the baby was dying and I was miscarrying, right then and there.

I struggle to escape my prison of blankets and stumble to the bathroom, lifting the lid of the toilet and hastily sitting down expecting to find a cacophony of blood, but I find nothing.

The pain keeps coming on and off, but it isn't as painful or unexpected as when it first came.

And then it hits me, something Dr Jenkins said at the very end of our last appointment, 'you'll be expecting the first kicks in the next month or so'.

Was that what this was?

I suddenly feel very stupid, of course it'd be that.

Then a new emotion stirs in me, one I'm all too familiar with; fear.