one : close to your love
• in which Demi's Daughter feels as though she's not as close to her mother as she once was
wasn't it easier in your lunch box days?
Demi had always done what she could for her child. After years of being told that conceiving a child was rare, and dangerous to not only her, but you, her pregnancy was all the more blissful and cherished. Nights she'd lay awake, her seemingly never still hands resting on a bump she adored. The stretch of skin that had been through many trips, protected you--the uncomfortable, mental mountain of gaining weight and not being thin protected you, nourished you, brought life to you. That was what infatuated Demi. The fact that her body, her battered body that had been through many wars, was able to create you. With nothing more then mere luck and science, her body mended together the two most purest items of human connection. She was unexpecting to the whole ordeal as well, her mind never even thinking to cross to the fact that now she wasn't alone. She didn't think that the weight she gained, and the food she craved was due to a small peanut sized child growing from her womb. The thought never crossed her mind until it was brought to her attention that she'd been late. Nearly three months late. After nights spent sobbing in guilt induced coma's of depression, it made sense as to why her clothes didn't fit. It made sense as to why she couldn't go a day without giving into the urge of sweet milk chocolate, it made sense, and that was all Demi ever wanted.
She hated surprises, she hated the unknown, and yet she spent her days with her hands over her growing bump, eyes trained to a large television playing the ID channel. She spent the rest of her terms cuddled up with family, either her hands or somebody else's always resting on the bump--never leaving you too lonely. That was what Demi feared the most, after multiple consultations that ensured your health Demi worried for the health that nobody could ensure. Your developing mental health. It was no secret to her that depression isn't always necessarily caused, it was no secret to her that anxiety was developed after years of confrontation and doubt. If anybody, she knew that you could very easily be born with mental illness as if it was normal. If anybody would understand that it was her, and she would also understand the fear of speaking up. She knew how hard it was to speak out about things that just sounded crazy--after all she'd been deemed crazy by the public eye more times then she could count.
Those nine months flew by quicker then Demi would have liked to admit, the only time she truly had to protect you had come and gone and without much preparation, you were in her arms, wrapped up in a blue blanket that was soft against your skin. It didn't take Demi long to fall even more in love with you, not when your small hand reached out and grabbed her trembling finger, bringing it to your mouth and sucking as if it was a pacifier that pacified all your issues. Her soft finger that had once been used to strum the string of a guitar for an arena of people, was now used to calm you, and the change, although adoring, wasn't easy. Demi hated that, she hated that even though she loved you, she hated what you took away from her. She hated that although you fulfilled her, you left her lonely in her own home. You were just a baby, just the beginning of a person who had yet to be tainted by the world and come into your own. You were just a ball of delicate memory foam that she single-handedly would have to raise. Rather then selling out arena's, she was sat home, the quiet murmur of Speak Now settling your cries. She was sat alone, away from all of humanity going stir-crazy as you, her porcelain baby wasn't quite ready to go out into the world yet. And, although Demi had her mother and her sisters, and the tight-nit circle of friends all coming to visit and fill the void she unexplainably felt, she was still alone missing out on the events that were shaping the future you would have to live in one day. She couldn't keep you home forever.
