Emma didn't believe them when they told her she was pregnant.
She didn't believe Killian when he insisted she felt different around him after they'd made love one night.
"I'm no expert, but I know my Swan inside and out. And you, my love, feel different to me. I think you might be pregnant."
"That's ridiculous. I feel completely fine." Emma casually shrugs it off, not giving the conversation another thought. But everyday afterwards, he comments on how different her body is or how bigger her breasts have gotten and tries to get her to take a pregnancy test; she refuses.
"I'm not pregnant. I know my body better than you do."
She didn't believe her mother who'd narrowed her eyes when Emma made the mistake of telling her she'd expelled her breakfast one morning in the bathroom.
"So you threw up?" Mary Margaret asks, a small smirk curving her lips.
Emma eyes her suspiciously. "Yeah, that's what I said."
"Are you pregnant?"
Emma shakes her head and yawns. "It was just food poisoning. I feel fine now."
A big grin creeps across her mother's lips. "I'm sure you do. That's why they call it morning sickness."
"Who has morning sickness?" David implores, appearing in the kitchen to kiss his wife on the lips.
"Emma does. She threw up."
The features on her father's face light up in excitement. "My daughter's pregnant?"
Her mother nods proudly and claps her hands. "She is. We have a grandbaby on the way!"
Emma's eyes blow wide. This is unbelievable. Why is it that if a woman is feeling under the weather, people automatically assume she's pregnant? Why can't she be sick because she's just sick?
Turning to leave the kitchen as her parents are practically jumping up and down in excitement, she calls out, "I'm not pregnant!"
She also didn't believe her son when he was amazed by the fact she'd just consumed a whole pizza by herself, except for two slices.
"Mom, you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Her stomach is completely full, her body is tired and weary and s he's experiencing some mild cramps because she'll soon get a visit from Aunt Flow (it's late, but her periods are always irregular), but other than that, she's perfect.
"Grandma and Grandpa both think you're pregnant. They might be right."
Emma sighs in frustration. Not Henry, too. "I was hungry because I skipped lunch."
"Sure, mom." Henry shakes his head and stands up heading towards the staircase.
"What? I'm not pregnant!"
Everyday for three weeks, everyone kept telling her she was carrying a baby inside her womb; her parents even started planning the nursery and buying baby clothes stating "the little duckling is a girl, I just know it," and Emma got sick and tired of it. In fact, she ended up going to the drug store, buying eight pregnancy tests just to prove them all wrong. Each one, she followed the instructions exactly, peeing on each stick and waiting the required five minutes. Each test was exactly what she had expected—negative, with the single pink line—so she rubbed each one in their faces (not literally, of course).
And yet, here she is less than nine months later, squeezing her husband's hand and pushing a baby out of her uterus as he cheers her on.
"Our daughter's almost here, love. Just one more push."
Emma groans and lunges forward one last time before being rewarded with the shrill cries that fill the room as Doctor Whale holds the shriveled pink baby in his hands.
"You did it, love," Killian murmurs as he watches their wee princess in wonderment. "You always do."
Emma's eyes are clouded with tears and her heart is bursting with joy as their baby girl—the product of true love—is being carefully transferred into her arms.
She can't stop the smile from taking over her entire face as she peers down at the big blue eyes that are blinking and staring up at her. "She's so beautiful."
"Aye, she's quite the beauty… just like her mother." Killian's eyes are wet with tears as he kisses Emma's forehead, which is covered in the sweat from enduring hours of labor.
"See? I knew you had a little pirate inside you, Swan."
Emma playfully rolls her eyes. Even if she wants to retort, she doesn't have the strength or energy inside her; she can't really do anything else but stare at the precious baby in her arms.
As she caresses their daughter's cheek, her smile never fading, she is still in complete awe. Several months ago—several months of "I-told-you-so's" from her family—she couldn't believe she was pregnant, but the proof is finally in her arms, clumsily reaching out for her mama, and all she can think is—so much for cheap, at home pregnancy tests that told her she wasn't pregnant.