My Nine Brothers~ One Direction & 5sos & Harry Potter

132. Dear Patience

"Fuck me!"

Pregnancy did not look good on me. My feet were swollen, I could not stand for long periods of times. And not to mention, my belly was stretched out so wide I could not see my own toes. My body aked all over and do you know what it's like to physically feel your hips shift positions? Because it feels worse than growing pains. 

I was laying on the couch with my feet kicked up on the coffee table. I was wearing a very large shirt, I'm talking XL. With a pair of sweatpants on my legs. My hand was rubbing my belly as the baby kept moving around.

"What is it? Are you okay?" George rushed over to my side. 

It was my last month of pregnancy and for this past month, George has done nothing but prevent me from doing things.

Hope can't pick things off the floor because it may hurt the baby.

Hope can't sit up by herself because it may hurt the baby.

Hope can't take a shower by herself because she may slip and fall and hurt the baby.

Hope can not work because that may hurt the baby.

Hope basically can not leave the apartment because that may hurt the baby.

And you know what, it's really fucking annoying that George would listen to the Doctor when he told me I needed 'Bed Rest.' I mean, is it my fault I passed out at the office because I was pushing my body so hard? No, my body should adapt to my needs. And my need right now is to get this baby out of me so I can feel normal again and get to move around on my own. 

"I'm fine," I snapped at him. "The baby just keeps moving around jumping from organ to organ to play with."

"Do you want some tea?" George asked.

"Yes," I sighed. "I'm sorry, I just hate sitting here all day."

"You're doing great," George smiled at me. "Your delivery date is just around the corner."

"Or she's going to be late," Fred was in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Rasing the spoon to his lips, he smirked at me.

"I hate you," I flipped him off.

"Fred, don't even say that," I heard George mumbled before he slapped his twin in the back of the head. Casuing Fred to choke on his spoon.

"Can you make sure- oh fuck me!" I groaned as a shooting pain came through my stomach.

"What? What?!" George dropped the mug on the floor before he came running over to me once more.

"Just the baby," I took deep breaths. "They just- fuck! They just want to hurt mummy today."

"Um, should I point out she could be in labor, or am I going to get slapped again," Fred spoke up.

"She's not in labor!"

"I'm not in labor!"

Both George and I shouted at the same time. There was no way I was in labor right now, because we were not ready. The crib was still sitting unassembled in our room. A pile of baby clothes we had been given right next to it. We were supposed to take this week to finish that up because apparently the both of us are the world's biggest procrastinators. 

"Are you in labor?" George looked down at me in a panic state.

"I would know if I was in- of fuck me!" Another round of pain hit my body.

"You're in labor!" George started to spin in circles. "I-I need the bag! We need your shoes! The shop, we need to close the shop!"

"Stop!" Fred slapped George in the face before he handed him my labor bag. At least we had that ready. "Here is the bag, Hope's shoes are by the door, and I will handle the shop. Just get her to the damn hospital."