If you're from tumblr (I'm jollyholidaywithally) then this fic MIGHT look a bit familiar...
They had been Mr. and Mrs. Alfred for two months when Mary first fled to the bathroom. After a month and a few weeks of Mary feeling nauseous on and off, Mary made a trip to the doctor's office. It was then that their hopes were confirmed, "Congratulations Mrs. Alfred," the doctor had said, "You're pregnant." Bert had lifted Mary into his arms and spun her about the room when she told him that evening. He only set her down when she had smacked his shoulder and then watched as she retreated into the bathroom. It was October fifteenth.
Mary and Bert announced that they were expecting at the Christmas Eve party at Uncle Albert's house. She was three months along and starting to show. Cheers erupted through the already lively house and the couple was soon swarmed with people wanting to congratulate them. The next evening, Mary and Bert unwrapped dozens of baby clothes and toys that their friends had purchased that morning.
About halfway through February, in the middle of the night, Mary shook Bert awake. He gave her a worried look but she just grabbed his hand and placed it on her growing stomach. There was a small flutter as the baby kicked and Bert's eyes grew wide. Husband and wife spent the night quietly cuddled together, his hand gently massaging her stomach. And before they fell asleep, he kissed her bellybutton and told the baby goodnight. He did that every night from that point on. 5 months and then some.
At six months, Bert thought Mary looked even more beautiful than she did six months ago. She complained that she felt big and that her back hurt. He would massage her back, kiss her belly, and assure her that she was the most lovely woman in the world. He told her that every man ought to be jealous that he wasn't married to her. She would roll her eyes and insist that he was just saying things because he didn't want to sleep on on the couch and because it was all partly his fault. He would chuckle and tell her that he would never lie about what he thought of her.
The last two weeks of March, the finishing touches were put on the nursery. Bert had painted a mural on one of the walls. It was a jungle made of different greens and brightly colored animals. Purple monkeys teased blue alligators from the trees and yellow birds flew through the candy-blue sky. He had Mary pop them into the mural for a few minutes and told her how they could take their child for adventures. Mary finished making the baby's blanket and draped it over the side of the bassinet. Bert surprised Mary with a rocking chair that one of his friends had made just for them. She kissed him happily and told him to thank his friend for her.
April third, Mary broke down in tears. She confided to her husband that she was scared. She told him that she had no idea about how to be a mother. She told him that she was worried that she wouldn't be a good mother. He ran his fingers through her hair and tried to soothe her. He told her that she was being ridiculous and that if anyone was suited to be a mother, it was her. Bert told her that she had been caring for children for years. This only made her cry more, but they were tears of happiness. She thanked him and said that he was the sweetest man ever and asked how she had gotten so lucky. He held her close all night and didn't once let her go.
April seventeenth, Bert woke with a funny feeling. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt like something bad was going to happen. He followed Mary around protectively and jumped whenever she moved or said something. But when nothing happened for the rest of the week, he relaxed a little bit. And every night, he kissed Mary and their baby goodnight. A little less than two months left and then their baby would be entering the world.
One in the morning, April twenty-ninth, Mary woke with a terrible pain coming from inside her. She shook her husband awake, panic in her eyes. Something wasn't right. Once he was awake, he wanted to call an ambulance. She shook her head, there wasn't enough time to wait. So Bert rushed her to the hospital. Every time she cried out in pain, he winced. He would give his own life to never see her in so much pain ever again.
Four in the morning, nothing was right. The nurses and doctor had rushed Bert from the delivery room despite him insisting that he wanted to stay with his wife and her pleading that they let him stay. He paced outside the door and winced every time he heard her cry out.
Nine a.m. and nothing had changed. A nurse had come out every couple of hours to tell him that his wife was fighting and that it was too soon to tell how much longer it would be. Bert continued to pace and let a few tears fall.
Noon. A scream of pure anguish and then baby's first cries were heard. Minutes passed and a pained silence fell over the entire hallway. But when no one exited the room and Bert could hear panicked conversing, he burst into the room. His wife lay on the bed, she looked exhausted. The baby was being held in the arms of one of the nurses. Everyone in the room turned to face him, defeat evident on their faces. The nurse crossed to him and handed the red-faced bundle to him. She muttered that he had a healthy daughter.
Bert carried their daughter over to his wife, "Mary you did it," he whispered and placed a kiss on her forehead. She didn't respond and he figured she was asleep. It had been a long eleven hours. A nurse came and took the baby, quietly explaining that the doctor wanted to make sure everything was alright. He sat with Mary and told her what the child looked like and how he was so proud of her.
He stayed next to her and then he noticed that her chest wasn't moving. He cried out and pulled her into his arms. He sobbed her name over and over again and ran his fingers through her tangled hair. Her lifeless body lay limp in his arms.
He raised their daughter by himself. He told her stories about her mother. On her fifth birthday, she used magic for the first time. Charlotte had inherited her mother's eyes and sharp wit and Bert's humor and nose. Bert loved his little Lottie more than anything. And every night, after he kissed her goodnight, he would climb into bed by himself. But not before he kissed two fingers and pressed the fingers to a picture of the woman he had loved for so long.
And he would fall asleep telling the picture about his day.