Oneshot about Rory and Jess having a baby. Gilmore Girls isn't mine! I hope you enjoy it!
Rory opens her eyes. She is alone in the apartment on this hot, July night and the air is thick as soup. Nothing has kept her cool, nothing has slowed the slew of sweat down her neck and no glass of water has slaked her thirst. Rory walks slowly across the room and bends awkwardly, pushing open the window. Her skin feels tight and none of her clothes are comfortable. Rory is almost nine months pregnant. Jess was in two minds about going out, saying he could put the book signing off, but Rory insisted he go. Don't treat me like this, she said, eyes wide. Like what? he said, though they both knew, and Rory said angrily, I'm not a baby. I'm just having one. There was a glimmer of a smile on her boyfriend's face but Jess understood. Okay. I'll go. Just promise you'll call if you need me back. Rory sighed, said she'd be fine, but Jess was serious. I promise if you promise to go. They made a deal and Jess left three hours ago, kissing her with one hand around her hip, the other cupping her stomach. Rory smiled, waved goodbye and watched from the window as he walked to the subway. Now night has fallen and the light has gone from white to golden to black. Time is passing as slowly as she moves.
Rory turns on a lamp and the room is filled with a more friendly glow. At first, she felt great having the place to herself. She made noodles slathered with ketchup, an odd craving she's cultivated, and put on a horrible reality show about rich people and their clothes. Jess can't stand it and Rory prefers watching it without his commentary. Lorelai is hooked on it too and Rory called her, both of them laughing out loud. After the show, an old eighties movie was on, but Lorelai had to go for a event she's hosting at the Dragonfly. Rory hung up with a twinge of sadness and, after the movie, her light mood disappeared, even with the old, cheesy CD she dug out to listen to. Rory wished her mother could come over but the Dragonfly is booked solid for the summer season and Lorelai can't be away. She came over, last weekend, and after pretending to faint at her daughter's size had a worried look in her eye which she hid badly. Mom, it's fine Rory said. We've got a crib and everything. Lorelai nodded, said she could see and asked again if Rory was sure she didn't want to come home for a little while. Look, I'm not asking you to move home for long. I just mean for a few weeks, when the baby's born. You can both stay. Rory assured her mother there was no need. Lorelai nodded, but there was a weight to her pause and finally she said, Rory, it's not I think you and Jess can't do it. I just don't think you know how tiring having a baby can be. Nothing prepared me for it.
Rory exclaimed that her mother was sixteen and Lorelai put her hands up. I know, and I know this is a much better situation, I'm just saying it's going to be exhausting. Rory nodded and put her arms around her. Thank you, Mom. We're going to be okay. I know we are. Not that she and Jess haven't freaked out on more than one occasion, flung harried words about not knowing how to be parents. They've talked a lot though, read all the books and got more advice than they can count. Rory knows they'll be fine. She doesn't say this to Lorelai. Her mother is anxious enough as it is.
Her mother smiled but still looked sad until Rory added that she should expect a crazy amount of visits. Lorelai laughed, kissed her daughter's cheek and looked visibly happier as she went home. She left Rory with food prepared by Sookie, to satisfy her cravings, and a promise to pelt the nurses with ice chips. It still seemed far away then.
Rory wishes she has a visit to drive her crazy now. She's not unhappy, doesn't want to call Jess, but there is a niggling at the back of her mind as well as the strain in her stomach. To quell it, Rory grabs a chair and pushes it to the window where she carefully sits, balancing her feet on the sill and picking up a book. She lies back, placing a hand on her bump, as if to reassure her, before turning her eyes to the page. Rory is sure it's a girl. She whispers something soothing but it doesn't calm Rory, at least. Suddenly all she can think about is how she will be giving birth in just a few weeks. Rory will be having a baby and, once she's survived that, the baby will be here. She will be a mother, Jess will be a father and it still all seems insane. She's not sixteen but the shock felt keenly similar, when she found out. Rory's pregnancy has eerily dragged and sped both at once and it still feels like yesterday when she was staring at the strip. It was a freezing day in November and Jess was trying to fix the heater. Rory tuned out the clank of metal, the occasional swear, and pulled out the test she'd secretly bought on the way home from work. She hadn't told Jess, didn't want to worry him, didn't want to worry herself and was sure it would be negative anyway. So she'd been a little cranky lately. So her period was late. It had been late before, she'd never been pregnant. The only reason Rory bought the test was because the day before she'd eaten an apple. It looked so delicious and it was such a crisp, autumn day that Rory bought it and it tasted as good as it looked. She was just heading back to the office, tossing the core in the trash, when a young woman she worked with raised her eyebrows. Wow, she said. The whole time you've been here I've never seen you eat fruit. A memory suddenly rose in Rory's mind, of her mother's panicked phonecall many years ago, and she got a test, telling herself it was a coincidence. It had been for Lorelai, after all. Rory did not call for her mother's thoughts.
The result was positive. Rory stared and stared and expected something to happen – even something as small as her cursing – but she couldn't say a word. Instead she stood, motionless, until she heard Jess call her name, ask if she was okay, and she opened the door and showed him. Neither made a sound.
What do you want to do? he asked over and over. Rory didn't know. Whenever she asked him, he shot the question back. I want to do what you want to do, he said. You're the one who's pregnant. Rory couldn't think. She'd never thought about children. She never really wanted them. She'd seen Lane have babies, first the twins and then a daughter, Nico, and known she hadn't wanted them then, but Lane was younger. Rory was still starting her career. She worked on the Obama campaign, worked overseas, got a job in New York. Jess started work there too. They became friends once more and then lovers. It didn't seem weird, even after all that time, and they moved in together. Jess opened a branch of the Truncheon in New York ad Rory had her job at the paper. They were happy. Everything was in place. Paris and Doyle got married. They didn't. They didn't want to, and they both knew before they even asked. Children they weren't sure on. Rory wasn't as definite as she was about marriage, but she was happy without them, for now. When she was thirty, she'd reevaluate. Here she is at twenty-nine and some cosmic joke has caused this. Rory can't figure it out. She has always been more cautious than anyone else she knows. All she can think is that when she got sick that time it messed up her pill. Stupid, she cursed herself. She didn't have to have it, she knows, and remembers one day, after going to the doctor, taking a long walk. She read through the information twice, put it away, and then walked through the park. The pros and cons are fairly straightforward but Rory's mind wasn't listening. She imagined having a kid. Maybe it wouldn't be terrible. It would be with Jess, whom she is more certain about than anything and she could be a mom. She could do it. It would be their baby. By the time she'd come home Rory'd made up her mind and she simply said, I want to do this. Jess looked at her, nodded and drew her to him. Okay, he whispered. Okay.
It was not as simple telling Lorelai. Even though she is an adult, has a steady job and has been with Jess for a few years now Rory still felt almost as sick as if she were a teenager. She went to Stars Hollow, waited until Lorelai was making the coffee and then quietly said, Mom, I have to tell you something. Lorelai turned around and then Rory took a deep breath and told her she was pregnant. There was a shocked, stunned moment, Lorelai dropped the coffee pot and then her mother cried, Pregnant! How can you be pregnant? She laughed a little as Rory said, I really don't want to talk about that, Mom, and then she started crying. She didn't stop the whole time Rory explained how they had a plan, that they wanted to stay in the city and the baby was due in July. God, I wish I could stop crying, Lorelai said, wiping her eyes. I know you'll be awesome at it. You were my mom half the time. She managed to smile but then a fresh flow started as Rory said, you set an amazing example. Finally though, everyone came around to the idea, even Richard and Emily, and soon Rory had her first scan. She pinned it on the fridge, staring at the little white blur, and before she'd gotten used to that it was time for another ultrasound. Rory looked and felt pregnant by this stage, was reluctantly wearing maternity clothes, and as the doctor got the picture on the screen she asked if Rory wanted to know the sex. No, she said, surprising herself, and Jess looked startled. They'd agreed to find out the night before. Do you want to know? the doctor asked Jess and he shook his head. Guess not. Either way, the baby had its legs tucked tightly together so no one can see and Rory and Jess laughed loudly. It's a Dodger already. They took the picture to bed to look some more and Rory said, she's a girl. Jess looked at her quizzically and Rory said defensively, I just know. When he asked why she hadn't wanted to confirm it, she couldn't explain. Lorelai was incredulous. You of all people, she teased. You always like to know ahead of time and you haven't asked? Rory made a joke that the button Jackson gave her when Sookie was pregnant stuck, but she didn't know how to say it to Jess or her mother. She just knows. She doesn't want to be told.
Now, Rory is due in three weeks. Rory worked until she could barely fit behind her desk and Jess threatened to carry her out and take away her computer, saying it was bad enough that she still drank coffee. She smirked, imagining herself in Sherry's position and working while she's in labour, but the thought doesn't seem funny now. Rory's tired of being pregnant, longs to own her body again and not be treated like an invalid, yet at the same time is terrified at the thought of giving birth. She wants to pace around the waiting room with a cigar until it's over. She's seen the tapes, been to the classes, and it still doesn't feel real. She can't imagine the baby ever coming out, nor how she'll get it out, and Rory has a vision of walking around in the same state a year later. The baby gives a kick, as if to tease, and Rory rolls her eyes, putting the book down. Very funny, she tells it. In answer, it kicks again, and again, and Rory winces at the thrum on her ribs. Quit it she says, but the baby doesn't. Rory sits up a little, taking her feet down, and feels a twinge in her back. Oh, she whispers. There is another twinge, followed by a steady trickle of water and Rory sits, frozen. Oh, she says, loudly this time, shaking her head as though it can stop. Oh no.
Birth is longer, messier and bloodier than Rory ever imagined. Push, they keep saying. Push. Rory lost all sense of time a long time ago. She is tired and sore and nothing has come close to hurting this badly in her entire life. Was it only hours since she called Jess to come back from his book signing and he sped her here? The same evening she laughed as Lorelai threw a bag of iced chips in her hands and then cried when she said it was her turn to be a mother? It feels like years, a decade since she felt that first twinge. I can't do this anymore she says, her eyes fluttering closed. I want to go home. I want it to stop. Jess squeezes her hand and whispers encouragement , but Rory barely hears him. She's locked in this moment, her and her baby, and she wonders, fleetingly, how her mother did this with no one there at all. Jess whispers, the baby's nearly here, Rory. You're doing so well. I know you can do it.
He kisses her cheek and Rory pushes, no longer caring what she looks or sounds like. She doesn't even wish she still had those iced chips to throw. She pushes and pushes and finally something gives. The doctor announces that the head is out and Rory, past exhausted, pushes with the last of what she has. There's a pause, a loud cry and the doctor says,
Congratulations. It's a girl!
She lifts up something red and squalling and Jess says tearfully, we have a daughter! And Rory, weak and dizzy, smiles, before holding out her arms. I know. I always knew.
They struggle with what to call her. Rory and Jess never settled on a name. They made jokes of calling it Ernest or Emily, after both the writer and Rory's grandmother, but never came up with anything serious. Is our daughter going to be a Lorelai? Jess asks, when they are left alone. He's half-joking but knows it's a possibility. She already is, Rory says. In personality, at least. She wouldn't wait another three weeks. Jess laughs at that and adds, this baby is like you. It doesn't want to miss anything. They both smile and Rory muses, I want her to have her own name. She should have Lorelai in there, but her own too. For hours they just sit, the baby in Rory's arms. The flurry of people came and went, Lorelai, Luke, her grandparents and everyone else, until finally they were alone. Rory, still aching all over, drifts off to sleep and wakes to hear the baby crying. Blearily, she sits up to see Jess already there, rocking their daughter in his arms and singing a lullaby. Annie Laurie, Jess says, sounding embarrassed, when Rory asks what it is. This girl sang it at the Truncheon once, it was part of a poetry thing – I thought it was cool. Rory laughs, surprised. You hate poetry, she points out and Jess shrugs, embarrassed. It just sounded nice. Do you like it? Rory smiles. I love it. She leans over, takes the baby from Jess. I think that's her name. Annie Lorelai. Annie Laurie. She looks up to see what Jess thinks and his smile lights his face. It's perfect.
Later, Rory and the baby are alone. Jess has gone to get coffee and Rory is ignoring his advice to rest. She can't stop looking at her baby. Their daughter. How is it possible to love someone so much? It doesn't seem real that she is here, is okay, is so perfect and Rory gently traces her hand over the tiny fingers. Hey, little girl. Hey, Annie. Only yesterday Annie was tucked up inside her without a name. She is a mother, she has a daughter. I knew you were a girl. I knew. Annie starts to squeal, scrunches up her little eyes and Rory anxiously holds her to her chest, glancing around. Rory is worried Annie needs feeding, which she doesn't know how to do yet, but the baby settles into her arms. Relieved, Rory starts to murmur the melody of Annie's namesake and Annie opens her eyes, showing a shock of bright blue. Rory gazes down. You've got the Gilmore eyes, little girl. She knows all babies are born with them but it is sure they'll stay. Annie blinks, as if she understands, and Rory grins. Wouldn't let me finish my book, huh? Are you going to love reading too? Annie looks up at her mother, yawns and drifts into sleep. Rory relaxes, leans back into the pillow. She is already nervous about taking her home, being her mother, knows she'll make mistakes, but for now she's peaceful. Rory holds her daughter close, feels that she already knows her. Just now, she's glad Jess has gone and her mother is at home. The moment is her for and Annie Laurie alone. Rory murmurs a little about how her mother is Annie's grandmother, how she'll teach her to be a Lorelai, but her voice fades as Annie opens her eyes again. Rory is already proud to be her mother. She imagines the future, a day where they will say, it's a mother daughter thing and laugh. Rory smiles at the thought but stops as suddenly Annie reaches out, grips her finger. Her daughter holds on tight and Rory swallows at the determined strength. She gently squeezes her finger back until her daughter knows it's safe to let go.
Rory cradles her close and thinks back to that evening, sitting by the sill, when Annie started to make her presence known, not willing to wait until she was due. It is still the two of them together and Rory closes her eyes in the sweet aloneness of it. It's her and Annie Laurie, mother and daughter, and as Rory looks back into Annie's eyes she's sure she understands. Rory smiles at the soft strength of the blue. She is more than her daughter. She is already her very own.
The song Annie Laurie is a Scottish song based on the poem by William Douglas