I'm back! Credit goes to Roxy. I obviously had to write her something for her birthday! I hope you all like this.

**Also, Katniss mentions how she works at the medicines factory. I just had it in my head that she would help with the identification of plants and such, so that's where the medicine factory reference comes from. Enjoy and review please!

So, I'm not really sure how this happened. Well, I know how it happened, I just… OK.

I'm pregnant.

I knew for three weeks before I told Peeta. We weren't planning for a baby, but we weren't adamantly against the idea either. Actually, Peeta really wanted kids. He always has. And after fifteen years, I finally admitted to myself that having Peeta's child wouldn't be as terrifying as I thought. I noticed how Peeta would pay attention to the young children in our growing district, how he is always so kind and always says the right things. There is a young girl, about eight, that is always in the bakery with her older brother.

I was in the bakery one day and noticed her, noticed how her soft blonde hair falls into her eyes. Her grey eyes. I know Peeta sees her and thinks that if we were to have a child it would look like the girl. After a few months I began to think the same thing.

It's very strange, the idea of me having children. I was always so adamantly against it. How could I bring a child into this world seeing what I've seen? Knowing all that I know about this world and the horrors it hides? What if something awful happened and the games came back? I could never watch my child being reaped. Especially mine and Peeta's child. It would kill me.

We've had this discussion, me and Peeta. He insists the games won't come back. The world has changed, the districts won't allow it, and the Capitol wouldn't dare try. Even if he is right, what about me? My nightmares? Even Peeta's episodes, which have gotten smaller and fewer, would need explaining. I don't know how I would begin to explain all of these things to our child.

But Peeta wanted them so badly. He insisted that if I didn't want them, he didn't either. Over and over again he assured me that it was up to me. If he couldn't have children with me, he didn't want them at all.

I believe him, I know he's telling me the truth, but I still see that it hurts.

He came home from the bakery one night, tired and quiet. We ate a large serving of rabbit stew and some rolls as I told Peeta about my day at the medicine's factory while he listened with a smile. They had brought in a new group of kids from the school, so me and another worker gave them a small lesson on easily-identifiable plants. The girl, with my eyes and Peeta's hair, was there.

I brought it up, how I knew that Peeta was thinking about kids again. At this point I still wasn't convinced, and he didn't try to push me either. He just smiled softly at me and leaned his head on my shoulder. Flecks of flour were still in his hair and on his clothes, and I could smell the cinnamon on him. His blue eyes rolled up to meet mine, and with a lazy smile he whispered,

"I love you."

He's done this before, looked at me like that and said those things. For some reason I felt it in my heart. For a split second I was thinking about what our baby would look like, and how I hope that it would have Peeta's eyes.

It has been part of my medicine regiment to take a small dose of birth control ever since I shot Coin. Dr. A said that he wasn't sure what the Capitol gave me and Peeta, but that it is very likely they made it so we can't have children. The birth control was to prevent any, um, "accidents" while I was still unstable. I just never stopped taking it.

I kissed him and said that maybe if we had a baby, it wouldn't be so bad after all.

So that night, with Peeta covered in flour and feeling a bit reckless, I suggested in a hushed whisper that I stop taking the birth control and we can see what happens. It wasn't a promise exactly, because we had no idea if I could even get pregnant.

Peeta's reaction was worth whatever stress I had. At first he just looked at me, his face blank with a look of shock slowly creeping into his eyes. He whispered, "What?!" I laughed at him and repeated myself.

His face lit up and he wrapped me in his arms, my feet didn't even touch the floor. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, kissing me and laughing at the same time. To see him so happy made up for every worry I could possibly have. I kissed his lips and brushed the flour from his face, reminding him that this doesn't necessarily mean I will get pregnant. He smiled anyway. I think it meant more to him that I finally felt good about having a child with him.

Of course, it wasn't having a child with Peeta that worried me. It was me being a parent, being unable to protect our baby from the world, and having to explain everything later on. With Peeta as a father, I don't think I need to worry about this baby at all.

Two months went by, then four, then six, and we had both thought that was it. We came to the conclusion that I wouldn't be able to conceive. Peeta took it better than I thought. He was sad, and I was sad in turn. But he repeated to me again that if he couldn't have kids with me, he didn't want them.

A few months after that, during a visit to Greasy Sae, she made me take a pregnancy test because I had been sick more than a handful of times that month. I finally relented just to make her shut up, and I cried when the results came back positive. I don't know if I was happy or sad, or just surprised.

Like I said, it took me three full weeks to tell Peeta. I ended up blurting it out over dinner one night, and I was about to prepare for him to have an episode when he didn't stop staring at me for a full ten minutes. I was starting to get worried, but then he jumped up from his seat and held me so tight I laughed and made a joke that he would hurt the baby. He let go imediently and mustered a small laugh before his lips attacked mine. He held me to him, our bodies pressed together with one hand resting on my stomach and the other gently holding onto my waist.

The next few months were varied, to say the least. Peeta never stopped being excited, but my moods varied and I blamed the pregnancy. I was still happy; at this point I knew that I could never regret this. But I was still so worried. When my stomach started to jut out and I felt our baby move inside me, my worries came rushing back. I cried one night while Peeta held me, and I tried to explain that I wasn't crying because I regret the baby. Now that I have this person growing inside me I wouldn't have it any other way. I was just thinking about how we could possibly explain what happened in our lives. What if, when our child gets older, he or she asks how me and Peeta met? What if they ask why their mother needs to shut the door and cry for seemingly no reason?

Peeta holds me and tells me it will be alright. I know it will be when I look at him and feel his hand on the raised part of my stomach. It will be fine, but it will also be hard.

So that's why I'm writing this down in the book. So one day, when I don't know how to explain things to you, you will always know that your parents wanted you. I may have worried, but in no way were you an accident or a mistake.

….Also, remember to call Haymitch "grandpa" once in a while. Once he found out about you he insisted on "Uncle Haymitch", but "grandpa" is much more fun. For us, anyway.

YAY! Also, the next chapter will be back to the regualr format. I thought it would be fun to make this preface a letter, but it's only for the preface!