The first time it happened was when he confessed to her. A naive little girl she was, she believed it was love . . . Nothing but sweet romance. It was the first time he had hit her. A mere slap to her cheek but it slap was still a slap. It was painf...
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She was 27 weeks pregnant—7 months pregnant to be exact. Her belly looked looked huge. She couldn't even touch her toes.
A lot of time had passed since, she had weird food cravings, terrible mood swings which led to he crying almost every hour of the day, her back ached, her ankles, fingers, toes and face were swollen, she had short breath and she had problems sleeping.
It was absolute hell for her.
Everything was hard, especially when she had no one to help her. She struggled to wash herself, she struggled to get up in the mornings, she struggled to change her clothes and to restrain her hormones.
But she never once complained.
Then it happened. She felt it.
A kick.
Her baby kicked. It was the third time this month. Every time it happened tears of joy would form in her eyes and she'd start praying immediately. Thanking God and her parents.
Her baby.
Her child.
Her little bean.
"Dear God and my parents, you probably know this already but guess what?! My little bean kicked! It was the third time this month. I'm so happy! Thank you for gifting me with this. I'm so grateful. Thank you! Thank you! And dad? Mom? If it's a boy I'll name him Beau just like you dad, I'll give him your name. And if it's a girl I'll give her mom's name, Blythe. That's all mom and dad. Thank dear God.
Your princess loves you both so much" She prayed.
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