between the meadow and the sky

waves

I wake up and immediately am overcome by another wave of nausea. Running to the bathroom, trying not to think about what this means but thinking about nothing else. I know I should be thrilled; Peeta and I have been talking about having a child for months. It's taken me years to warm up to the idea, of course; but he wants kids so badly. After all these years since the war ended, something in me finally gave in; finally softened with the vulnerability only Peeta could bring out of me.

"Katniss?" I hear him call out. He's rubbing his tired eyes and walking across the tiled floor. I'm sitting next to the toilet with my knees pulled to my chest, not looking him in the eyes. He sits next to me on the cold tiles, I focus on the faded blue stripes of his pajama pants. "Are y-"

"I'm fine," I say before he can finish. I don't want to worry him. "I'm okay, it's fine I ju-"

"Cass..." He takes my hand, I feel the rough burn scars on his palm, his fingers, and this grounds me a little. I relax a little and rest my head on his shoulder. We stay like this for a while, not speaking. I look out the window above the sink and see the dark blue sky, the stars.

I know the early signs of pregnancy should be a joyous moment for us. For Peeta, I'm sure it is; for me, I'm absolutely terrified. I know I shouldn't be; the war ended almost twenty years ago. There are no peacekeepers, no risks of starvation, no games. But the possibility of having someone so vulnerable to be responsible for brings back the paralyzing fear I have felt since I was twelve years old. Even at over 30 years old, I can't ever seem to escape it.

I turn to look at him and he meets my eyes. He looks worried, but I see a gleam of hope in his eyes. Those eyes, even after all these years, are all I need to steady myself.

"What do y- I mean, what should we do?" I ask him. Back when District 12 was just the Town and the Seam, you had two options: the wealthier people in the merchant class could afford to go to the town doctor and be tested, whereas in the Seam we relied on more natural methods because that's what we had. In most cases you just had to keep track of your cycle and eventually you'd be far enough along for a local healer, someone like my mother, to be able to asses you physically. 

Now, everyone has better access to medical care and testing. Although many of the remining original members of District 12 jumped on the chance to get decent healthcare, I know some past citizens of The Seam are still partial to their old practices. Old habits die hard. 

"Maybe we should go to the doctor this afternoon; if you're comfortable, I mean." He suggests. I'm a little weary of this, if I am pregnant then it will be added to my medical file, and word could eventually get out. After a certain point, Peeta and I were finally left alone by the public, only making our rare appearances at the Memorials held for those we'd lost. But I still feel paranoid our privacy could one day be ripped away again; something like this could surely cause a stir. Bring the reporters and cameras back to our backyards.

"Maybe,,," I say ,"I'm just worried someone will tell, regardless of what happens there, and I want this to just be ours for now. You know?"

He nods. "I know." He looks down at our hands. "Do you think the apothecary in town has something? Did your mother ever use her herbs for something like this?"

I think for a moment. Then shake my head. "No, I don't think so..." I try to think of a more private way to do this. I know there is also a pharmacy in town now, it's been there over a decade. We go in every now and then, having access to medicines and first aid we didn't previously, except for in the games.

"The apothecary may not, but I think they sell some type of home testing kit, at the pharmacy?" I suggest. "I'm not sure how it works but I remember seeing them there."

"That would probably be our safest bet," Peeta says. 

"I think so, too." I replied. I feel my muscles relax, and we both look out the window, the sky lightening as dawn breaks outside. I realize there's no sense in delaying this, the sooner we know the better. Less time to overthink. I get up from the floor, and Peeta follows.

I turn back as I walk out the door and see him standing at the sink, his hands on the edge of the porcelain bowl. I see the tension in his muscles and the way he holds his eyes shut, and I know he's fighting off some horrible flashback. I do what I always do, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his back. We stay like this until it ends; Peeta, riding the wave and holding onto whatever he can reach, and me, holding onto him just the same: for dear life.

Just as the wave started, it ended in a quiet crash; his muscles relaxing, his hands shakily letting go of the sink. He turns around and I take his face in my hands, feeling the rough stubble growing on his cheeks. My eyes meet his, I can see his unease slowly being replaced with the recognition that he's okay, that he's safe; we are safe. He pulls me in for a kiss, and when we pull back it's just our foreheads pressed together, letting whatever anxiety remains pass. And just as it always does, it eventually passes.

Leaving us to our current situation: the pregnancy test.