Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 63

Ending of last chapter:

When he looks back up at me, with a sparkle in his eyes, his blond hair falling in his eyes, I'm overwhelmed with how much I love him that all I can do is pull him close and hug him tightly, running my hand through his hair.

I don't deserve him. After everything I've done, I don't deserve someone who loves me as much as he does. But there's nothing that I can do about it, even if I wanted it to change. I love him too much to let him go.

****

Sighing, I tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. My frustration grows as I look at the mountain of clothes in front of me that need to be folded.

Being a mom is hard! I'm not even technically a mom yet, and it's already difficult! There's so many things that need to be done daily, and I'm willing to bet that I don't even know the half of it. Rubbing my stomach, I think, Poor baby. You're stuck with me.

"I'm going to try to be a good momma for you," I murmur, folding one of Peeta's plain shirts and setting it aside. "I can't promise that it'll work, but I'm going to try, okay? I'll need you to be a little patient with me throughout this whole thing."

I'm silent for a moment, continuing the monotonous job of grabbing an article of clothing, folding it, and setting it aside. Halfway done!

"I think that's a fair trade," I muse. "You poop and throw up on me, so therefore you have to be patient. I like that." A bit of laughter escapes me, much louder than I was talking, making the house not seem as lonely.

Peeta is at the bakery today. He hasn't gone in a while, and he was getting a bit restless staying with me, so I kicked him out for the day, saying he can't come back until dinner. At first he refused, but he knew that he wasn't going to win, so it was a halfhearted argument on his side.

Deciding that I've done enough and I deserve a snack, I stand up (with a bit of a struggle, mind you) and head into the kitchen. When my cravings hit, there's literally no stopping me. No matter what I'm doing, I will stop and go get what I want to eat. As of now, that is ice. I don't know why, but I have absolutely loved chewing on ice during this whole pregnancy so far. Because of that, Peeta has made sure to have a couple trays of ice waiting in the freezer for me.

I almost waddle back to the couch - it's not really walking, but it's not quite waddling, either. I don't know how to describe it. With my round belly, it's a little hard to walk normally, so I take smaller steps. Maybe I walk normally but feel like I'm waddling since I have extra weight I'm not used to. Anyway, I go back over to the couch and plop back down, enjoying the soft of the couch on my back.

The weight of the baby has not been easy on my back, either. I had no idea I would be this sore! It makes sense, seeing as I have to lean back a little so I don't topple forward. But still, it's quite annoying.

Sleeping has not been fun. I'm a stomach sleeper all the way, and guess what I can't do because of the baby? Yeah, sleep on my stomach. Sleeping on either of my sides feels weird - first, I'm not used to it, and second, I feel like it's not good for the baby. Who knows what direction they're facing when I do that? Maybe they're upside down all night.

I lean my head back against the couch, closing my eyes. It feels good to relax quietly, knowing that Peeta is out doing something that he enjoys rather than being stuck here with me. I hope he isn't worried about me and is doing everything he can at the bakery.

The phone rings obnoxiously, scaring me out of my reverie. Rolling my eyes, I lean over to the side table and pick it up, pressing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, Katniss," Peeta's voice echoes through the phone. Speak of the devil. "I was just calling to see if you needed anything."

"Were your ears burning?", I ask. "Cause I was just thinking about you. But anyway, I'm all right. Thank you though. I just grabbed some ice to chew on."