Fake It Until You Make It

Chapter 96: Totally Normal

If I could go back in time, I would find every moment when someone had told me that pregnancy wasn't 'that hard' to punch those people in the face. Pregnancy was one of the hardest things I had done in my entire life and that is coming from someone who had endured abusive relationships, tough diets to get into characters and award seasons. As much as I loved Lime and the idea that I would soon hold her in my arms, I hated very few things more than I hated what she was doing to my body.

I was bloated, heavy, my gravity center was fucked up and walking in heels was now a challenge. I had to pee every goddamn half an hour and I was eating like an insane MMA fighter preparing for a fight. My bump was now bigger and I had pains in my lower abdomen and on my sides, which Stella, my obstetrician, had classified as round ligament pain.

"The ligaments that support your uterus are stretching to accommodate its increasing weight." She explained, smiling. "It's totally normal!"

Yes, apparently all of it was totally normal. I could feel my organs being squashed to make room for the human being I was carrying inside – whom I loved – and it was completely normal. The palms of my hands were red, which was completely normal because of all my extra estrogen. Patches of my skin were darkened because of an increase in pigment and it was completely normal. Heartburns, indigestion, leg cramps and terrible sleeping nights were all completely normal and the worst part was that I couldn't even complain.

I couldn't get out of bed without rolling to a side first, but I couldn't complain. I couldn't sleep even though I was exhausted, but I couldn't complain. Why? Because Her Royal Highness, Jennie, the Duchess of Clarence, needed to be an example of a woman who had been born for this.

"People don't wanna hear about your problems." Edward reminded me. "It makes them think you're entitled and spoiled. You're privileged, they wanna hear about how humbled you are by the honor of bringing a baby into the world."

In many ways, Edward was my new Yoojung: he gave the truth like it was, even when I didn't want to hear it. This was made more useful by the fact that he had a child himself – little Eponine, who was now almost six years old -, so he could easily mix his royal expertise with his parental one and give it to me like it was.

Which is more than I could say about my wife, who even now still tried to shield me away from her world.

"You're carrying a person inside of you." Lisa said, "You're allowed to look tired!"

"No, the thing is, I am not."

As a royal, the only thing I was allowed to look was perfect. People didn't want their fairytale vision shattered, and I knew if I looked even a little less than what I usually did, the press would find ways to write weeks' worth of terrible headlines about how pregnancy was stressing me out and I was about to walk out the door from Lisa.

That was the reason why instead of snuggling in my blankets in that cold 17th of March in 3036, I was instead dressed in dark green for Saint Patrick's day. I was starting to get a hold of how to dress for the British cold now, so I was wearing a dark, long sleeved body suit under my emerald green dress and long, black Louboutin boots to warm up my legs, as well as my dark green Lanvin overcoat, which matched my big headpiece.

As most things with the British Royal Family, this was also a military tradition. For someone who had spent so much of her time speaking against a military dictatorship in Brazil I seemed to be spending a lot of my time these days in military parades. About 200 soldiers, led by a band of the Irish Guards, paraded through a puddle stained square, bringing a splash of color to the otherwise gray, cloudy day in their full ceremonial scarlet uniform.