Chloe had never considered herself a mother or not a motherly type: too stubborn, too angry, too bitter, too quick to jump into action, and definitely not soft and tender. Some days, she imagined that that was why she'd been so scandalized by losing her grip on the boy that she'd liked since childhood, because Marinette was soft and sweet though can be angry and in your face when you needed it and sometimes when you didn't. Marinette could bake and realistically, Chloe could imagine her as a mother.
She'd never thought that she'd fall in love all over again, because despite what everyone else might have told her in the years since, she loved Adrien, had loved him, had spent years doodling terrible drawings in notebooks and what have you. She'd imagined herself as a successful politician like Daddy or knowing the ins and outs of fashion like her mother, never did she sit down and say, 'Hey, I'm going to be a mother one day!'
It scared her, honestly terrified her, and she never quite knew how to be a mother. She'd gotten so used to arguing with her mother that the idea of being one just hadn't appealed to her growing up. Chase a career, marry rich and well, and just be successful, whatever that was for you. She imagined a fancy apartment or hotel room, imagined a husband-likely Adrien-and countless hours just living the life that she'd been set to live for years.
Growing up though, it just sneaks up on you, and you suddenly find yourself in love all over again and picturing a puppy and children at home and art on the wall and you imagine that you could slip into this reality like a new pair of clothes, heels, and earrings, perfectly matched. It doesn't work that way. Dating came with horrors, not that her boyfriend was a jerk or evil or a supervillain or anything of that sort, just what to wear, what to say, where are we going disasters. Often, they were more thought out than real, but still, it wasn't easy, at least not at first, and even later on, wasn't perfect. Life wasn't perfect.
Chloe wasn't in dream land with a ring on her finger, but she was happy and excited and trying to figure out how to make plans without drowning in stress and hating herself later on. Eventually, she left a lot of the designs to Nathanael, even though that never would be the tradition that her mother had managed to convince her to want. Nathanael was better at it anyway, and she did end up loving her wedding.
The dress was still a secret, and Chloe did handle the lists and getting the catering around and that whole mess. Her fiancee was the artist, and she was just the lawyer; she had to pay for it anyway or most of it, because if she didn't, her fiancee would be broke and the designs would be limited. Chloe had always wanted a wedding fit for a queen or at least a princess. She just wasn't the creative mind fit for making that task a reality. Nathanael even designed the invitations, and Chloe would not be complaining ever about those, as pretty and shiny and almost delicate as they were. She'd probably never outright admit to anyone other than Nathanael and maybe, Adrien, because he somehow understood, just how in awe of Nathanael's artwork that she'd been for a while now.
Upcoming marriage came with marriage plans and ideas and talking over just what they wanted their future to hold and that involved way more child rearing than puppy training, and motherhood became more than a fleeting curiosity or even something that she'd spent her childhood dreading and hating and stressing over. Suddenly, that fantasy based on a curiosity and brand new feelings of falling in love with someone new became something that Chloe wanted as something more than a passing fancy.
"So, I'm just sick, probably just wishful thinking all over again." This had to be the fifth time since they'd gotten married that Chloe had sat herself down on top of the sink and went through this same process. The negative line on the pregnancy test just reaffirmed that old feeling. More than likely, she was just anxious. Her period was behind by a little bit, and they had been trying for kids for a little while now. Not long enough to feel barren, but just long enough to feel tired and worn out, like a piece of string just seconds away from splitting in half.
"It will happen." Nathanael pulled her down off the sink with a gentle and steady hand, and pulled her into a soft yet chaste kiss. No matter how long this hope carried on for, Nathanael still treated her as gingerly as if there had been a plus on the stick or as lovingly as if this was just the first time that they met a flat, 'no,' on a pregnancy test all over again.
He always managed to stay much less worn out than she did. Chloe was grateful, because as her dreams for the future shifted and changed and as she found herself trying for those new dreams and failing, time and time again, she still loved him, still needed his steady hand and support. He got her through the self blame that she tried to walk on when the pregnancy test told her that, 'no, you're still just sick with anxiety and worry.'
"What if I'm not ready to be a mother or if I'm barren, because I'd be a terrible mother?" The words toppled out like a familiar step in a dance that had been going on for a while, the self consciousness brought on by failure and just missing hoped for dreams never did want to leave her though otherwise, she'd insist that she was just a confident woman, that failure never got to her like it might for someone else.
"I don't think that's it. It's only been five months, Chloe, and either way, I'd probably be more at fault." He gestured around them as if talking about his messy art studio or how little money his artwork sold for, as if a qualifying trait of a good parent was how much money you made. It never bothered Chloe that she was the bread winner of the house despite the occasional, hushed words spoken every now and again about them.
"You'd be a great dad." And, it was true. It felt as raw and real as poetry is to the poet that wrote those words down.
"You'd be a great mother. Mom told us growing up that a great parent never thinks that they're great." Nathanael admitted, and Chloe could picture him with his siblings, asking questions and expecting easy answers though answers are often profound more than they are easy especially when the subject is life and not, say math.
"I'll take your word for it." Chloe gave up, never feeling like arguing when the test came back negative all over again, just tired, a bit tired from trying.
Three years later, her office was flourishing and coming home still felt like entering a house missing at least one or two or three or so people. Nathanael was in his art studio, painting a picture to go up on their wall next at a spot that they'd originally agreed would be for their baby's first drawing, when they had one.
Chloe sighed; law seemed to drag on and on lately, even though it was only how lifeless it felt when she longed for more than just law, art, and her husband. Nathanael was the light of her world, a stubborn flame that never flickered and completely went out. They'd managed to convince themselves just barely, more than a year ago, that they weren't destined to have a child at all. Three years of trying, of beautiful matrimony, and no child to welcome Chloe home from work, no child that looked like his or her papa, that somehow knew art like Chloe knew law.
The art studio was as messy as it always was though Chloe found herself leaning against the wall and just watching her husband. When art came to life right before her eyes, it always stopped her in her tracks. Nathanael had a way with pencils or pens or paintbrushes, and often times she still had to catch herself from getting lost in how a stroke on a page, a line-simple as it might seem, caught her eye and became something so much more.
Art was like a whole different world, one that Chloe didn't know the ins and outs of, didn't know the rules: a world that she couldn't just read like a book on law or enter in as if it was a new outfit. It was beautiful without measure and somehow spoke the words that she never did dare say.
"How was work?" Nathanael murmured, and Chloe would have laughed if she wasn't so worn out as she watched her husband look as if he was talking to the painting in front of him and not to his wife standing in the doorway.
"Long." Chloe mumbled and entered the room as if suddenly, she'd gotten permission to sit down by her husband, "How was work?"
"Long." Nathanael repeated though she caught the smile that he was trying to hide from her. His work days involved sitting before a canvas or a sketchbook and exploring just wherever his imagination led. It would have sounded easy if Chloe didn't find it impossible to really rediscover her own imagination. It could be long too.
"Did the interview go well and is Marc still planning on moving closer again?" Marc had already published a book, was working on his second, and had been tentatively offering Nathanael a job to work alongside him as his illustrator if Nathanael wasn't hired by the comic book company that he'd applied for, very recently, and had had an interview with this morning.
"It went well, but I'm not sure if it's enough to be hired by them. Marc's still deciding what to do if he does move. He doesn't have a place around here anymore and doesn't want to move back to his parents' place." Nathanael shrugged, and Chloe found herself smiling at that. It still sometimes felt like chasing dreams of being some kind of independent adult even though it had been years since they'd actually finished school.
"He can probably stay here if he'd like..?" Chloe offered though still wasn't entirely sure if she'd really be okay with an old school friend staying over for some unknown amount of time. They had a spare bedroom, unfurnished, that they'd been planning to turn into a nursery once Chloe was pregnant though so far that dream was just wasting away now.
"I doubt he'd stay here." Nathanael sighed as he turned away from his painting for the first time since she got home to look over at her, "He wants to just support himself without help. He's always been that way." He shrugged.
"That's probably right. What are we having to eat?" Chloe asked, realizing that likely Nathanael's painting probably distracted him from considering what dinner would be.
"Leftovers." Nathanael answered simply, but got up when she did anyway, "I can wash up and help in just a minute." He smiled, and Chloe found herself reimagining how today would have went if they'd had a kid to welcome her home or ask about the comic company or even to help heat up dinner. What would the child be like?
Chloe was sick, not quite bedridden sick, just sick. It reminded her almost of those many months of just worry and upset and anxiety when the test came back negative all over again. It felt worse and real. She didn't want to get out of bed at all, but work called her like a forgotten memory. She needed to get up today. Chloe's case was finally in the court, and besides that, she had another one that was slowly coming along due to every complication imaginable and a very, very stubborn client.
Most people wouldn't enter a court room all that often, and thus, found it kind of unnerving: an almost, only emergency type place to go to. Chloe found it normal where she once found it exciting. She still loved her work, though it just wasn't a new thing anymore.
Nathanael was already out of bed, and Chloe could smell something cooking in the kitchen, though she felt both really hungry and not at all eager to eat something before court this morning. Either way, she couldn't stay in bed, so she refused to just curl back up and fall back asleep. People actually depended on her, and Nathanael would worry if she never left their bedroom.
"So what's for breakfast?" Chloe asked as she took a seat at the table, even though she was positive that her bed seemed to be more comfortable all of a sudden rather than sitting down at the table and waiting to eat.
"Strawberry and cream crepes." Nathanael answered easily enough. Usually, when they did have breakfast, Nathanael picked up some bread from the Dupain-Chengs, though Chloe had never asked where it came from, didn't need to with how close of friends that they'd really became over time, besides she couldn't go on grumbling about Marinette when she'd married Chloe's childhood best friend. It meant that Chloe had to deal with it, and in another way, she'd grown up through it.
"Sounds good." Chloe mumbled, gingerly laying her hand on her stomach when it seemed to roll around inside of her. It would be fine, besides generally eating when you feel not the greatest at all, had proven to be successful when she'd done so before. This didn't feel like nerves at all really, anymore. Her stomach hadn't seemed to roll when she was nervous or at least not to the point where she was seriously considering just letting whatever was inside leave. Normally, she just braved nerves and anxiety and worry, though Nathanael was more of her support through those times than she'd have the words to thank him for.
"Are you sure?" When you're married to an artist, he is not unobservant. He could sometimes just tell or maybe that was just because of how much he cared about her or a testament to how well he knew her.
"Yeah." Chloe muttered, "I'm just a little unwell this morning. It's been a few months or so since my last case made it to court."
"You're sure that you're just nervous?" Nathanael asked her, "You look a little pale."
"I hope that's what it is. I refuse to get sick when I have so much to get done." Chloe was willing to stay determined and resilient even when she felt like anything but.
"If you're still sick a few days from now. I'm taking you to the doctor's." Nathanael spoke up, and the worry in his voice really warmed her heart.
"Okay, you can. I doubt that I'll be sick tomorrow. I rarely get sick." Chloe could always attest to having a pretty good immune system that she accredited to genetics if anyone was willing to ask her about it. It was a matter of pride.
"Alright." Nathanael watched her closely even as he set down breakfast for them both, "I'll go see the trial today."
"You don't have to." Chloe muttered back.
"I'll go." Nathanael hated to miss a single one and whenever she asked him about why he liked seeing them so much, he'd call it her style of art though Chloe could tell you or anyone that law wasn't art. They're too separate worlds or at least that's how it feels like for her to try to determine the working of one is not that easy when you've grown up only knowing the other.
The case was won, but Chloe didn't feel any better. She'd went to bed almost immediately after work, skipping dinner, and just trying to sink into the covers enough that her burrowing just might, in an odd ball chance, make her feel better in the morning. Their bed was comfortable, and she'd doubted that she'd ever realized that quite as much before as she did today.
Nathanael ate dinner alone that night, and with a nervous look towards his wife, he crawled into bed early to sleep beside her, half prepared to wake up to her getting sick or for her to develop a fever overnight or something else that felt all kinds of levels of extreme. Chloe had almost never been sick since he'd been with her, and it seemed odd that suddenly it didn't seem to be nerves or stress from her working herself too hard.
Chloe was determined even when her body refused to keep up with her, and Nathanael had never known her to skip out on something that she felt needed to be done. Sure, she'd spent years growing up, eager to hand things off to Sabrina, but it didn't take her too terribly long to grow up and make her own determination rock solid.
Nathanael looped an arm carefully over her stomach, scooting closer to her on the bed, paying attention in case she was feverish as he went to sleep against her warm back. There was no fever, but he wouldn't be entirely surprised if he woke up to his wife sweating out a fever. Staying up all night wouldn't do her any good, so he made sure to close his eyes, stay close, and really attempt to sleep.
He didn't wake up to his wife throwing up or having a fever, but when Nathanael opened his eyes early the next morning, she was still close by, but she looked upset as if she was having a nightmare.
"Chloe," He called out as he gently pushed her shoulder in an attempt to wake her up, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She grumbled in a raspy voice, "My stomach just hurts." She twisted around to face him, and he realized that she'd been awake this whole time.
"How about I take you to the doctor's?" He muttered, eager to make sure that she was fine, even though she shot him a tired look.
"Don't you dare. You said, tomorrow." She mumbled, tiredly.
"Do you want anything to eat? Or anything else?" Nathanael tried asking, hoping that she'd agree to something.
"A glass of water." Chloe muttered, "And some sleep."
"Okay." Nathanael muttered as he stood up to get his wife a glass of ice water, trying to not panic. He'd never seen Chloe this sick before, especially since it had lasted through the night. She still wasn't feverish though, and he just hoped and prayed that she'd feel better soon.
The next day, he finally got her to see the doctor as she still wasn't feeling well. Day three of whatever was making her sick, and Nathanael was trying to ignore the twisting in his insides as he walked with her to the doctor's.
Though getting to see the doctor felt like a blur of rapid passing time, as nerves made it way harder to notice the passing of time as he held her hand and waited for just what the doctor would tell them.
The usual flurry of questions came spiraling out as if it were just a normal check up, "When was your last period?"
"The end of last month." Chloe blinked, "It's been more than a month, already?" It didn't seem like it as she'd been busy with work and didn't really pay as much attention to whether her period was on time anymore. She'd spent too long worrying and setting her body off kilter with worry a while ago to sign herself right back up to that worry.
The doctor paused, "Are you stressed out lately?"
"Not anymore than usual." Chloe shrugged, "My job's not the calmest job in the world, but it doesn't feel that bad, lately."
"Okay, do you mind if I get another test around for you as well?" Her doctor asked as if there was something other than the tests that were planned to see just what she had.
"If it will give me answers." Chloe shrugged.
"It just might." The doctor gave them a warm smile before leaving the room.
Just the wait was unbearable, and Chloe detested it, as she waited and waited and waited for her test to come back. Nathanael's hand was interlocked with hers, and really, it didn't feel that bad anymore. Besides at court, her belly didn't hurt, and she definitely hadn't been nauseous. She was only feeling unwell some of the time, though court had worn her out more the other day than it had in a while.
Nathanael was humming an old tune under his breath as he held her hand, as if it was his kind of distraction, since she hadn't really spoke. She hated doctor's offices, hated hospitals, hated being there as if she had a million better things to do than try to get well with help. It wasn't that she doubted that she'd ever get sick, as it did sometimes happen, it was just that it felt a whole lot easier to take care of it herself and not sit in a room waiting for a doctor that always felt like it took a world for him or her to come back into the room.
"So," She cut off her husband's humming, finally connecting it to a song that had played during one of their first dates though the name still escaped her, "What do you think his last test was checking for?" She leaned gingerly against her husband's hand, nestling into his side, and remembering how comfortable it was to cuddle all over again.
"I don't know." He murmured, but the worry in his eyes soothed something within her. Maybe it will be okay, because she wasn't the only one concerned about the test.
"Congratulations, you're pregnant." The doctor told them within moments of being back in the room, though his smile was nervous as if he expected the couple to respond in sneers and anger.
"Pregnant?" Chloe wasn't sure what to think as that couldn't be right, could it? She'd long since guessed that she was barren, that children would never grace their home or at least not their children. She'd started thinking that maybe she really was not capable of being a mother, so the words left her dazed. Had she heard him right? He'd been careful to not explain what the test was for from the beginning.
Nathanael's hand squeezed hers a little tighter as a warmth bloomed in his chest. Had she actually gotten pregnant? He'd always wanted to be a father, and somehow this sparked a steady yet slightly slow hope in his chest. What if the doctor was telling the wrong couple that they were to be parents?
Chloe blinked past tears, "I can't be pregnant; I'm barren, aren't I?" Her words entered the air as if just a daze of confused, of flustered mist.
"The test came back positive." The doctor spoke slowly, blinking as if he wasn't quite sure what else to do other than emphasize these words all over again.
"I'm not barren." Chloe muttered in a jumble of half broken syllables, honestly partially excited to be able to have a kid, and at the same time, terrified that she'll make a mistake in parenting, that she'll be a terrible mother or that her kids won't like her at all.
"We're not barren." Nathanael's voice joined his wife's repetition, though neither was sure whether they'd initially spoke in unison or if he joined up with her voice just a few seconds behind.
The doctor smiled, "You can come back for a checkup in a couple of weeks?"
"Yes." Their voices chorused, half forgotten phrase before cut off; it seemed like the only thing to do to get an ultrasound, to see their baby that the doctor reassured them was there, growing right inside his or her mother.
Chloe didn't look pregnant yet, but she kept telling people that she was whenever she saw them, Marinette and Adrien, who had a few kids of their own so far, Sabrina, Alya and Nino, Chloe's parents, Nathanael's family, everyone.
It still felt so new, so exciting, and as she got onto the hospital-esque bed and pulled up her shirt, finally nerves settled in. A woman with dark hair and beautifully cocoa skin came in with a smile and in light blue for her work.
"First child?" She asked, making casual small talk as she adjusted the machine.
"Yeah." Chloe and Nathanael's voices both came out in awe as they watched the woman brushed her dark though recently highlighted curls from her face.
"This is so cool. I think you'll love it." She gushed, "My job's the best, and my husband and I have four kids already. I never get over seeing the first ultrasound pictures." Her excitement was palpable, and Chloe tried to relax, feel a little more at ease under the sound of it.
"I hope so." Nathanael squeezed his wife's hand as he told the nurse.
The woman smiled back at the couple before her, "So this will feel cold at first, alright? It gets easier, and besides, you'll get to see your baby for the first time, so it should get easier once you see the little screen and can take home pictures." Her smile was so full of warmth and life that Chloe believed and trusted her despite her own nerves.
Before Chloe knew it, cool gel was rubbed across her belly, and the flickering to life screen appeared with an image that wasn't just a black image. A little baby, small and curled up, hard to really see appeared on the screen, and suddenly it was all being explained to them. "That's your baby, your first one! So tiny, and it's still a little soon to know whether it's a boy or a girl, but trust me, the baby will grow fast, and will look like the two of you before you even know it."
Chloe relaxed, watching in awe, trying to zero in on what the baby that she'd long thought that they weren't going to have looked like. Nathanael close by her side, watching with just as much awe and wonder.
"When can we tell whether it will be a boy or a girl?" Curiosity framed his question as he looked to the nurse, barely able to take his eyes off the screen that shown his and Chloe's little baby.
"In about fourteen more weeks, we should be able to tell. It might take a little bit longer depending on how well we can see him or her." She smiled.
"Okay." Nathanael breathed, too quiet in stunned awe to say much more as he wondered about the little baby growing in his wife, what would he or she be like at five years old? Would the then child be interested in art or law? Would it be a Mama's baby or a Daddy's baby? Would the child be talkative or quiet, shy or outgoing? What would their unique, little baby be like older or even just born? The excitement seemed as if it filled the air and yet stole the air from their lungs.
Nine months suddenly seemed like quite a wait and yet not nearly the amount of wait that it would seem like in one sudden go. "Oh." Chloe breathed beside her husband. Suddenly baby names both seemed ages away from the here and now and yet as if they needed to discuss them right away.
The nurse smiled at them, "It goes by fast." She paused to pick up some papers, "I know that you probably already got these from the doctor a couple weeks ago, but here's some information on what you should eat for both you and the baby's health and the other information, you'll need for a healthy pregnancy on your end."
"Okay, thank you." Nathanael answered in numb awe as he accepted the papers that his wife didn't reach out for as she still stared at the ultrasound, trying to avoid letting out a humiliating squeak at the thought that human life was really growing in her and that she'd have a chance to be a mom, and hopefully, she could be a good one.
The nurse left to get them their ultrasound pictures, and already, Nathanael and Chloe were once again hopeful for their future, hands squeezed tight together in shared nerves and almost bouncing excitement. It would be okay, though whether Nathanael pampered his wife a ton during the pregnancy would only be seen after they left the hospital with their first ultrasound pictures and hearts warmed in genuine excitement.