The Butterfly Weeds [Taylor Swift Adoption Story]

FUCHSIA

Fuchsia's are exotic, unique, and quite mysterious. They are well known for their bright colors and bell shaped petals. Like most flowers, fuchsia's represent different symbols that make them unique. This flower indicates confiding love, elegance, femininity, and humble love. Some believe the flower was sent as a warning for others so they would be left in front of homes for a form of protection. This means the flower also represents anxiety.

Four Weeks Later
April 30th; 2024
Taylor Swift's Point of View
I look at the floor, beginning my debate. I said I wanted to sit and write music but how dedicated am I to that? My guitar is on the floor along with some pillows and papers are scattered around from my most previous writing session. I'm 24 weeks pregnant as of now and the babies have become much more active. I like to record every single time it happens. I like to keep track of every little milestone that happens. Most people complain that pregnancy is the worst but, once I got over my nausea, I kinda started to like it. If it's a sunny day, I'll go up to the balcony by myself and just sit. I get to be alone, no chaos, no battles to be thinking about. I just get to be with my babies and think of what it'll be like when I finally see them.

"Whatcha doing? You've been staring at the floor for quite a bit." Ivy looks at me quite confused. I realize that I have still yet to make a decision on this.

"I want to write music but I'll have to sit down on the floor. I'm debating if it's worth the effort to sit down on the floor." My bulging stomach does get in the way of many things and one of them does happen to be me sitting easily.

"What if I helped you sit down?"

"That works." Ivy reaches out her hand which I grab onto. She slowly helps me down onto the floor so I don't collapse and gives me a couple pillows.

"Are you comfortable?" She asks as I reach over for my guitar.

"Yeah. Thank you, Ivy." I begin to tune my guitar and I look through my sheets of paper on the floor.

"Of course. You're growing two humans in there. You can always ask me for help."

"God, you're more helpful than your father." I grumble a bit. She gives a small laugh and begins to walk away as I strum my guitar. She stops in her tracks suddenly and turns around.

"Mum?"

"Don't you dare pull that on me. I don't care if your dad is British." I demand and she snickers a bit.

"Fine. Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah sweetie." Ivy walks back over and plops down in front of me.

"I wanna talk to you about something. I'm really worried."

All my attention is put towards her and I set my guitar aside. "What is it?"

She takes a moment to build up the courage to say it before finally getting it off her chest. "I'm worried about you and Dad. I see you guys fighting a lot and you guys are different around each other. You used to laugh and dance. You'd talk about your day and I saw you write a song together once."

What do I even say to that? I wait and try and think of a good response but I don't know what to say. "Your Dad and I are fine."

"Mom, I'm not stupid. You threw a plate at him." Oh god, the flashbacks. Maybe not my best moments in life.

"So we're going through a rough patch right now but, we're also working through it. We're going to couples counseling and it's really helping." It's true, it is beginning to help us.

"Good. I already lost a pair of parents. I can't do it again. Can I ask why you always fight?"

"Why do you want to know? When my parents argued I hid. They always kept it from me. Most parents keep their kids out of it."