Do You Think We're Okay? t.f. x reader pt2

xii

I'm not dead, just to let you guys know. That's the main question I've been getting asked lately. 😂 Here's a fluffy, feely, CUTE chapter for you all, because you deserve it 😘😍

Anyways, on with the heartbreak 💔

1 month into the pregnancy:
I'm just gonna be blatant-
Morning sickness is a bitch.
Throwing up constantly isn't fun.

I can't eat all of the things I used to.
Ice cream was my favorite food, now I can't stand it.

The only good part about this month has been Tom, my friend's support, and the growing baby-bump in my abdomen.

2 months into the pregnancy:
My stomach has grown even further. Tom massages it and kisses it, poking it with his index finger to feel the growing knot of a baby that's inside of me.

I throw up even more, but it's getting easier to deal with.
The hardest part now is my raging motherly hormones.
I cry over EVERYTHING.

But honestly, when do I not?

3 months into the pregnancy:
We had our first ultrasound today, seeing the tiny little alien looking creature inside of my stomach.

Tom and I teared up immediately, seeing the life-form that we made.
Together.

As soon as the little black eyes and teeny-tiny button nose, to the tiny hands and feet curled up in a comfortable ball, Tom let out a sob of joy, grabbing my face and kissing me with all the love he could muster.

That was the best day in that month.

4 months into the pregnancy:
We went back to the doctor's for our annual monthly check up, but this time it was special.

We would find out the gender of our baby.

Tom's grip on my hand was almost painful, his anxiousness seeping from his sweat.
His other hand was rubbing my ever-so-quickly growing baby bump, which was now looked to be the size of a volleyball under my shirt.

My neck hurts, my feet hurts, God, don't even get me started on my breasts. But all of that didn't matter right now.

All of my attention was turned towards the doctor; who just walked in with the file full of results on our child.

"Mr. Felton, Mrs. L/N, the results have come back.."

I gulped, my hormones causing me to tear up and start crying.
My lips quivered as my free hand wiped away my fallen tears.

"The baby's gender is-"
"WAIT!"

Both the doctor and I's attention snapped to Tom, who looked frantic.

"I-I don't wanna know yet.. I want it to be a surprise."
He looked over at me, a soft smile growing on his lips.

I took a deep breath, and smiled back at him, nodding.
"A surprise it is, then."

5 months into the pregnancy:
"If it's a boy, what are we gonna name it?"
Tom's index finger traced little squiggles on my stomach, his head on my chest, as I scrolled through baby names on my phone.

I raised an eyebrow at him.
"What if it's a girl?"

He smirks, looking up at me.
"Oh, it's definitely a boy."

I smile back, rolling my eyes.
"How are you so sure of that?"

"Have you felt him kick you? That's a star football player right there."
"Soccer and football are different things here, babe."
"Oh, whatever."

6-8 months in the pregnancy:
Goddamn was this painful.

My stomach was now the size of a fucking watermelon, and my breasts grew 2 cups.

The amount of weight on my body that was weighing me down sucked Shrek cock.
I forced Tom to massage my feet like 3 times a day, which of course he happily obliged to, being the amazing boyfriend he is.

9 months into the pregnancy:
Today was the big day-
The gender reveal party.

Emma, Rupert, and the rest of the 'Do You Think I'm Okay' cast planned and set up the whole thing.

"EEEEEEE, Y/N, ARE YOU READYYYY?!" Emma shrieks, clutching my arms as she jumps up and down like a 5 year old.

I giggle, holding her down to try and calm her spazz self down.

I walk into the kitchen where everyone was standing around a cake with 9 candles in it, representing 9 months.

I smiled, tears immediately flowing down my red cheeks. Tom came up to me, softly grabbing my hand and leading me to the cake, a smile never leaving his face.

Tom stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my huge waist, his hands enveloping mine on the knife that we held together.

"ON THE COUNT OF 3, CUT INTO THE CAKE!" Rupert yells.

"1-"
Tom is crying too, his breaths uneven as he kisses the back of my neck, which still, to this day, sends goosebumps across my body.

"2-"
The past 9 months have been hell, but the good moments, the sweet moments including this party, and the birth of our child will make it all worth it.

"3!"
Tom and I press down onto the knife, slicing the cake with easy.
We pull out the knife, only to see it covered with..

With pink frosting.

I scream with joy, covering my mouth with a shaky hand.
Tom leaps off of me, his hands flying into his disheveled long hair, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

"IT'S A GIRL. OH MY GOD, IT'S A GIRL. IM THE FATHER OF A GIRL. IM GOING TO HAVE A DAUGHTER!" Rupert rushes to Tom's side. They collide and hug, jumping up and down together.

Emma squeals so loud I feel my ears ringing. She hugs me so tight I feel the baby get crushed by the strength of my best friend.

After everyone stops screaming, shouting, laughing, and crying with pure joy, we all stand around and talk about what having a daughter is gonna be like.

As I'm talking with William, I hear a gasp.
I turn, seeing Emma with her mouth covered with one hand, her other pointing down to the ground.

My eyes travel down to where her finger leads me, looking down at my own legs, or what I can see of them over my baby bump.
Clear liquid is dripping down my legs, my Adidas getting drenched as well as the ground.

I look up and make eye contact with Tom, almost wanting to laugh at the look of horror on his face.

"It looks like she's ready."