So this is my first fanfiction ever... hopefully it's not too bad! . Reviews would be awesome, so... yeah! :)
Sadly, I do not own Glee or Blaine and Kurt, even though that would be totally amazing...
You walk into the apartment in a daze, your hand still pressed to your stomach as you slowly walk inside. Tears-you're not sure whether they're from happiness or something else-blur your vision for a moment as you stumble over to the couch, the papers and information packets from the doctor forgotten on the table as you passed by.
The words, those words ("Congratulations Mr. Anderson-Hummel") keep replaying in your mind and it's almost like you can't believe it. Because you couldn't, you /shouldn't/ be pregnant... yet here you are twelve weeks along, clutching the tiny first ultrasound picture of the baby-your baby, you find yourself thinking-tightly in your hand as you lay there on the couch trying to calm the hell down. Because stress wasn't good for the baby, the doctor said; stress would just make things even more riskier than they already were.
Male pregnancy isn't unheard of, but it isn't exactly a common occurrence either so it's understandable why you're still shocked. You didn't even know that you could get pregnant because you'd never been tested for the gene, yet here you are. Pregnant anyways. Pregnant with the child that you'd always dreamed of but come to accept that you could never really have.
"I'm going to have a baby." You finally say to make it more real and you smile, a huge smile and rub your stomach, knowing already that you want this baby more than anything in the world. But... would he? Your thoughts turn to your husband (your amazing, handsome husband that you are so deeply in love with) and you can't help but wonder how he's going to handle this. The topic of children hasn't been brought up much during the span of your seven year relationship and two year marriage, other than the brief saying of you want kids "some day." But now "some day" is actually in the very near future, only a few months away, and you pray to God that you are /both/ ready for this. Because you're both still so young, both still trying to finish school and get careers figured out... what if he thinks you're /too/ young? What if he doesn't think that you're stable enough?
You can suddenly hear his keys in the door so you immediately get up and grab the information packets from the doctor and hide them, not wanting him to see that when he walks in. When he does walk in, you smile and lean in for a kiss, whispering your usual, "Welcome home." He smiles back as tosses his keys down, promptly going into a retelling of his day as he rummages in the fridge for some leftover take out. You nod and murmur the right 'mhmm's and 'uh-huh's in the appropriate places, just allowing him to ramble before he suddenly pauses like he's forgotten something. "Oh! How was your doctor appointment? Did they get that stomach bug of yours all sorted out? Because honestly it's just gross that you keep having to throw up and-" He stops his ramble and gives you a funny look, probably because you haven't said anything and oh crap, you must look horrible because your throat is closing up and you think you might cry. Because what if he doesn't want this? What if he's angry? What if-? Oh god, you can't handle these thoughts and you realize you're about to cry again...
"Blaine? ...Babe?" His panicked tone grabs your attention and suddenly he's holding you, one hand on your cheek as his beautiful eyes worriedly gaze into yours. You somehow manage a small smile when you find your voice again.
"I'm okay, Kurt, really. They said that I should be fine soon, my stomach just... it just really hurts right now." You lie and smile again, praying that he'll believe you.
Kurt nods once, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Why don't you go lay down? I'll bring you some toast or something?" He suggests after a moment and you nod, knowing that you do need a moment alone to compose yourself. You quickly turn and hurry to the bedroom where you flop down on the bed and curl yourself into a ball, trying your best to calm your racing heart and jittery nerves. However by the time he walks into the room, carrying a plate of toast and a cup of tea for you, you've got tear tracks rolling down your face, you're far from being calm, and you're blaming it on the hormones. "Oh, honey..." You hear him say as he puts the food down on the night stand and carefully sits beside you on the bed. "You really don't feel good, huh?" He reaches out and gently strokes your unruly curls (which you no longer keep tamed down with gobs of gel), and then he shifts to place a soft kiss to your forehead. You merely shrug and close your eyes, suddenly realizing how /exhausting/ and draining today has been, and soon enough you're asleep, unable to fight it any longer.
Four weeks pass and you still haven't told him. You've tried; honestly, you really have! But every time you're about to say it you freeze up and just cannot bring yourself to actually spit it out, even though you know you've got to. Keeping it a secret isn't helping anything... really, it's just making the whole thing worse. You know it doesn't take Kurt long to notice something is off. For a while he just assumes it's the stomach bug, but you know he's starting to believe it's something more than that. You notice his confused and worried stares when he thinks you're not looking; you can see that he's desperately trying to figure out if he's done something wrong, and you feel so incredibly guilty. Because you're withdrawn, and you know you are. You don't eat near enough (mostly because even just the thought of food makes you want to puke), you sleep during the majority of your free time, and your social and love life has been lacking. You've turned down everyone's requests for a night out, or even a lunch date-Rachel, Mercedes, even Kurt-because you're scared you might let something slip. And you /can't/ let anyone know, not yet. They'll think you're a freak, right? Because guys don't get pregnant-/normal/ guys don't have babies! But you know that, no, you're not really normal. And this isn't something to he ashamed about, right, because... well because this is your baby! Your baby that you and Kurt created out of your love, and there's nothing wrong it that, right? So maybe it's okay to not be normal. Maybe if being abnormal means you're getting this, then it's okay.
Five weeks after finding out you decide that you're going to tell him. You know that he deserves to know, and keeping this a secret is just killing you (not to mention, there's already a slight curve starting on your midsection and you know you won't be able to hide it for much longer).
You decide while you're at work-you'll go home, make a nice dinner for Kurt because it's been so long since either of you have actually cooked, and then you'll just tell him. No more excuses, no more waiting... you are going to tell him flat out that you're pregnant. It's understandable that you're nervous, but you also realize that you're feeling excited. Finally, you'll be able to talk about this to someone else and-oh! you'll finally be able to start decorating the nursery and buying things for the baby (besides the few little onesies you purchased on a whim one day and then hid in the bottom of your closet when you arrived home). Smiling, you walk into the apartment in a good mood for the first time in what feels like forever, and you head towards the bedroom to change out of your work clothes. However the sight of Kurt, home early and sitting in the couch, stops you.
"Hey!" You're surprised to find him at home already, though that's not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe he'd like to help you cook dinner? You put your bag down and start over towards him, though you suddenly freeze when you realize that he's holding something. Something small. A picture. The ultrasound picture from your doctor's visit. It's in his hand. And he is staring at it. You feel fear wash over you as you watch him, watch him look up at you with confused eyes. "Blaine?" He slowly stands up, still holding the picture in his hand as he takes a step towards you, his eyes now fixed on yours. "What's this?" You still don't respond and he frowns even more, looking down at the picture again. "Where'd you get it? Did you...?" He looks at you yet again and you can tell what he's thinking-none of your friends are pregnant right now, which could only mean this is /yours/ and he /knows/. God he's figured it out and he's just staring at you now, and you feel like you can't breathe because you haven't been able to tell him yet! And what if he's mad? What if he thinks you didn't want to tell him?
"Kurt, I..." You finally find your voice again and a hand slides down to protectively rest over your stomach now, as if it's a comfort to yourself. "It's... that's... mine." Your gaze is still on the floor as you add in a whisper, "Ours." You can hear his sharp intake of breath when you confirm it and then there's silence. Oh, the silence... He must think you're disgusting, right? He must not want it? Because he would be saying something, /anything/ if he did and you can't-
"Blaine." Your thoughts are interrupted and you look up to see him standing right there in front of you, a small smile on his face now. You hold your breath and watch him, gratefully letting it out when he whispers, "So we're going to be dads, huh?" And that's all it takes. That's all it takes to reduce you to a blubbering mess and you're clinging to him, crying, thanking god that he still loves you and wants this baby because you honestly don't know what you would do if he didn' silently comforts you, rubbing your back and smoothing your hair while you cry, and he smiles when you finally manage to calm down.
"Thank you." You mumble with a sniff, hesitantly bringing your gaze up to his. He's still smiling, grinning even, while he holds you and leans in close for a kiss. "No," He says and lets a hand slide down to your stomach where your child lays, "Thank /you/."