The May Irwin Kiss [Tayvis Fanfiction]

Little Miss Sunshine

Five Weeks Later
August 31st; 2026
Taylor Swift's point of View
Everything feels like it's happening at once. Just two weeks ago, Grace's health took a turn for the worst, and hospice became the best option for her care. We were more than willing to provide the costs for her to be comfortable at home but she refused. Now Cameron has moved in with us full-time. It's a whirlwind trying to adjust to this new dynamic, especially since I'm in the home stretch of my pregnancy.

Being nine months pregnant is no joke. My body aches in ways I never thought possible, and this bump just keeps getting bigger. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly excited about the new baby arriving, but juggling early motherhood with everything else feels overwhelming.

That's why I called in reinforcements – my mom. She's been a lifesaver, cleaning the house, running errands, and even taking care of me so Travis can focus on the kids. At first, I was touched by her enthusiasm. She kept saying how happy she was to spend time with her "grandbabies." Naïve me, I just assumed she meant Ducky. Then, it comes out – how excited she is to finally meet Cameron and how much she loves that he calls her GiGi, just like Viola does.

 It hit hard when I realized my mom already saw herself as Cameron's grandma, and honestly, it stung a bit. Here I am, struggling to find my place in this new situation, and she's already smothering him with grandma love. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the help, but this whole situation just feels messy and confusing, and frankly, I'm hurting.

As I lounge on the plush cushions of the couch, the remote control in one hand and a box of sugary cereal in the other, I'm enveloped in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Pregnancy has turned my cravings into a daily ritual of indulging in the sweet crunch of cereal straight from the box. Gone are the days of balanced meals and nutritional considerations; now, it's all about satisfying the insatiable demands of my ever-changing appetite.

The weight gain guidelines set by my doctor loomed over me like an impending deadline. Initially, the prospect of gaining 30 pounds (13.6kg) seemed daunting. Then with each passing week, the numbers on the scale climb higher and my once-urgent concern about weight gain has morphed into resigned acceptance as I inch perilously close to the dreaded 45 pound (20.4kg) mark.

My mom saunters into the room, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watches my cereal-fueled spectacle. With a mouthful of crunchy loops, I manage to blurt out, "Can you get me another box?"

"Honey, at least swallow first. I can't understand a word you're saying," she chuckles, her eyes filled with amusement.

After obediently gulping down my mouthful, I repeat my plea for more cereal. Mom's response is predictably maternal, gently reminding me of my earlier indulgences and advising moderation. But my hunger knows no reason, and I protest, my cravings drowning out any semblance of logic.

She returns with a fresh box, already opened and ready for my eager fingers to dive in. But as I stare at the colorful contents before me, a wave of unexpected emotion washes over me, catching me off guard.

"Mom, how do you do it?" I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion as I pluck a single Froot Loop from the box.

"Do what?" she asks, her brow furrowing with concern at the tears welling in my eyes.

"Love and accept him? There's nothing more I want than to bond with Cameron, but all I feel is resentment," I admit, my words heavy with the weight of my confession. Her response is a mixture of understanding and empathy, a reminder that love isn't always easy.

"Listen, nobody expects you to be some Zen master of adaptation. Change is hard, messy, and confusing," she reassures me, her touch gentle as she rubs my back. "The important thing is that you acknowledge your feelings, even if they feel 'ridiculous.' Stuffing them down won't make them go away. I know that you'll find your way, one colorful loop at a time."