Mommy...

Part 1

Is it the way he looks at her like she's the only woman on earth

Or is it the way he holds her close so she feels so safe

Is it the way he smiles at her and all her dreams come true

Or is it the way he's so strong yet so gentle at the same time

Is it the way she sees an amazing future when she stares into his eyes

Or is it the way he cares for her like she's the only woman alive

Is it the way she chants his name over and over as he takes her to places she has never been

Or is it the way he caresses her face afterwards and places soft kisses on nose and cheeks

She's not sure if she can pick one reason why she loves him so much or one reason why she could never be without him. He's the first thing on her mind when she wakes and the last thing before she goes to sleep. She misses him when he's not with her, like he's literally in the next room and she misses him. What makes it all worthwhile though is knowing he feels exactly the same way as she does. He's the yin to her yang, the sun to her moon, the night to her day. When you ask what's the question, he's her answer.

So why is she finding it so difficult? Why is she sitting crying in the bathroom because she's scared to speak to him. Why can't she just tell him and let him decide for himself.
Why didn't she tell him last week when she felt nauseous for the whole day and he took care of her. Let her lay on the sofa whilst he waited on her, fetching her hot drinks and making her special meals to try and ease her stomach. Why didn't she confide in him what she was thinking. Why instead did she think about her mom and the mess she had made of being her mom. Why did she think that she was doomed for disaster with her own upbringing hardly ideal.
Why now staring at the 2 lines crossing the pregnancy test confirming her worst fears could she not think of anything except what the hell she was going to do. She was a firefighter not a mother. She was a wife not a parent. She was Andrea Herrera not someones Mommy.

The call had been long and arduous. Andy's heart had dropped when they had pulled up to the house and seen the flames leaping from the windows. She had felt rough all shift and this had been the last thing she needed when it was 1 hour till home time. But she had performed well nevertheless. This was her job and no matter the situation she always excelled. Between her and Gibson and Hughes and Montgomery, they had pulled 6 people from the building. The last one she got out she helped on to the gurney and then stumbled away behind the aid car, pulling the mask from her face and desperately trying to gulp in some fresh air and catch her breath. She leant one hand on the truck and dropped her head, stars swimming in front of her vision. She felt a hand on her back and heard Maya speaking to her, as her captain and maybe as her friend, a concerned tone to her voice.

"You okay Herrera?"

Andy took another gulp of air, pushed herself off the truck, turning around and then leaning back against it, dropping her head back, giving it the support she desperately needed.

"Yeah. Just feeling a bit rough today and that really took it out of me."

"Okay, take 5 here, we'll be leaving soon and you can go home and get some sleep. It's been a long shift."

Andy nodded, it really had, "Thanks Maya... I'll be okay in a minute."

Maya just nodded and walked off to finish up the call. Andy was glad it was Maya in charge and that Robert hadn't come to the call too. He wouldn't have just let it go like Maya had. He would have wanted to know why she felt ill, what was wrong with her, what she'd been doing. He was a loving husband but sometimes she felt suffocated. She rubbed her hands across her face trying to stop the stars dancing in front of her. She couldn't carry on like this. Why did she feel so ill? Surely Pregnancy wasn't supposed to feel like this? She thought it was supposed to be a joyous time. She felt anything but joyous. Suddenly the nausea hit her like a steam train and she leant over and threw up at the side of the road, tears streaming down her face at the same time. Sometimes she hated herself.