I sit in my house, resting my hand on my belly, feeling kicks of a small foot inside of me. There's a baby growing inside of me, from him. From Roman.
I never meant to keep it, but one day, before I considered aborting it, I realized I wouldn't let Roman's absence determine my life, and if I wanted a child, I'd have one.
I'm about nine months in, I can feel this child, and they're coming soon. As I sit in our house, my house and my child's I mean, I imagine what it's going to be like, watching them grow up and what it'll make me. What will become of me? Will I raise this child correctly? Will I do them good?
All I want is to raise them in a household without secrets. And even if their mother is a Faunus, and their father is missing, I hope that I can teach them to love themselves. I want to raise my child in a home of love, even if it's only just me.
Sometimes, I pray that my child will not get my ears. But as soon as I do, I feel regret, because I want them to love every single aspect of themselves, and teach them to not hide. To embrace themselves, and love being themself.
I wonder if my family will come to my child's birth... I haven't spoken to them in so long, I know my mother will, and I hope my father will try his best to show up.
I want this child more than anything, and even if I'm just one woman, I know I can raise this child right. I want them to know they can love themself without hiding away, to know that they will face challenges, but that they will beat them. That they can do anything, even if they are half and half. They can do it.
Even though they're not born yet, I already love them. I can feel the baby's heartbeat and breath almost. I can feel my love for them. And I will continue that love no matter what.
-
A week later...
I pushed and screamed with pain until my child was born. I gripped my mother's hand, and kept my eyes open, and stayed listening. I wanted to hear my baby's first cry and breath of air.
The nurse, a young man, lifted up my baby, allowing them to cry. "Honey, it seems you have a lovely girl here." He says, cutting all the cords and cleaning her before handing her to me.
I reach out, and grasp onto my baby. My mother swoons and coos, despite my baby being stained with blood and looking like a raisin.
I coddle her to my chest. Then, I look at her closely. What I see makes me gasp. She has... Little bits of red hair poking out of her head... And kinkajou ears still folded over from just being born.
I begin to notice tears rushing down my face. She really is going to be more wonderful than she is today.
-
I named her 'Kamala' which means 'red.' I kept up with the color naming system of course, and better yet, she has a mix of my skin tone and her father's, red-orange hair, and beautiful Faunus ears.
As of now, she's two and a half, and learning to walk.
I stand beside her, holding her tiny hand in my much bigger hand. I look down at her as she looks up at me with big brown eyes, they're shining.
"Mama! Watch!" She exclaims, speeding up her little steps. Even though she can already walk, she's trying hard to run. She speeds up just enough, something tells me to let go of her hand. Kamala zips by me and spins around, looking happily up at me.
Aside from walking and running, already, at this young age, has been showing signs of her semblance. My semblance is unlike hers, and I have no idea what her father's was.
Sometimes, she turns to me too quickly, and ends up spinning in a rapidly fast circle. She's like a mini-tornado. I wonder if she'll want to be a huntress like me one day.
She's happy, smiley, and above all, loving. She talks about how much she loves the people on tv, people outside, our neighbor's, and how much she loves me. I think she even loves herself, which is what I want more than anything.
Of course, she has some negative traits as well, such as a snarky little laugh, but that makes her even more wholesome and lovable.
I try to avoid telling her about her father, but even at this young age, I think she knows she's supposed to have one. I'll tell her when she just a bit older, I'll tell her his name.
Some nights, I think of Roman, and what we had. We had love in this house, which he paid off before he left for his 'work' and is now on the run doing ridiculous criminal stuff. My heart breaks, but I do not hold it against him. He was bad, and just wanted me to be safe.
It makes me want to cry, him, but I don't shed tears because of his absence. I shed tears because he won't get the chance to see my lovely Kamala grow up. Sometimes, I wish he would just die, his memory too. But I know it's better to spread my love to Kamala, and not spread hate to a man who's no longer in my life.
One day, we, Kamala and I,were downtown, shopping for clothes and furniture. She eagerly sped up, looking at some cute little shoes with pink bows on them, begging me for them. I bought them for her, simply because I knew there were somethings that I couldn't give her, so I would do whatever I could for her.
After we left the store, we walked to a fountain, us two sitting at the water's edge. The fountain bubbled and seemed to laugh almost, the water shined. I could see Kamala looking into the water, wanting to touch it. I said to her, "You can put your hand in it, but only your hand."
As I said this, she plunged her hand into the water, splashing about. She looked up at me, her tiny eyes looking back into mine, and smiled widely. I sucked in a breath, in that moment, she looked exactly like him. Her father. I forced myself to smile back, then ruffled her red hair.
She blinked at me, and asked, "Mama sad?" My eyes widened. I guess I had looked sad, despite my smile. She pulled her hand out of the water, then reached for me, hugging onto my arm.
I let out a laugh, even someone so young such as my daughter, can see sorrow. But as she hugged me, I didn't feel sad anymore, I felt joy knowing someone like her was my child. "Baby, no, I'm happy! I'm with you. Mama can't be sad with you." I told her, rubbing her lightly on her back.
I mean every word I say to her. I'll never be sad with her, sad at her. She's everything to me. Is this what it's like to have a child? Especially on my own?
With that thought, I stood up, holding her tightly in my arms, along with all the items we'd bought today.
When we got home, it was 8PM, the perfect time to sleep. I dressed Kamala in a pair of purple toddler pajamas, and dressed myself in a nightgown I had owned for quite some time.
I never parted with Kamala, I always set her in her little crib beside my bed at night, just so that neither of us would have to be alone in the house. I sat her gently in the crib, and heard her little yawn that warmed my heart. She mumbled, "Goodnight, Mama." I leaned down, pulled the blanket over her, and placed a stuffed animal and a doll next to her, in a small effort to show her that she is both human and faunus, but more than that, she's a good little girl who deserves to play with all the toys she wants. Quietly, I hum a song my own mom had sung to me as a lullaby to her. "Goodnight, baby. I love you."
As I turn off the light, I let my song come to a fade, I bend and turn on a nightlight that shines warmly. Once the lights are off, except for her nightlight, I lean back down to her, and kiss her forehead, and run my fingers through her hair, and on the top of her ears.
She looks so peaceful, there's a soft smile on her face. Her tiny hands lay beside her, as she curls herself into a ball. She is deeply asleep, it's only been ten minutes since I set her down. She must have been tired, we did have a long day, but I think it was a good one. I look down at her once more before smiling warmly, then pulling myself into my own bed.
That night, I fell asleep with ease.
