Hey all! I posted this at the beginning of the year but once I read through it, I noticed that it seemed rushed and I didn't like most of the chapters. I went back and revised them, adding some stuff and taking things out. So as I do have a lot of the chapters written, I am not going to put them all out at once. Hopefully this will get the same kind of feedback that Victorious: Later Days did. So here it is, the second part to Later Days, It's All Okay. I do not own Victorious or it's characters. Enjoy!

[Tori's POV]

Oh the joys of pregnancy.

NOT! I guess I was too young to understand the beautiful part of being pregnant. But I wasn't too young to understand that this is something I would probably never want to go through again.

My back ached all day, every day. My once firm and flawless stomach was now a huge globe covered in jagged lines, known as stretch marks. My feet were swollen all the time, to the point where I couldn't even wear shoes and I was limited to flip flops and my fuzzy bunny slippers. I couldn't sleep comfortably because I slept on my stomach when I wasn't pregnant and now had to always sleep on my back or side. I ate way too much and kept down way too little – as in, I never got over morning sickness; sometimes I feared that even after the baby was born, I'd still throw up for no reason. My sense of fashion went out the window, and was reduced to wearing tent looking dresses. And with those dresses, I'd wear no underwear because I had to pee every fifteen minutes, it seemed, and I've had enough accidents for two lifetimes. I also wore like two sports bras over a regular bra, because although I enjoyed my breasts being bigger, they were full of milk – that leaked without warning. I had heartburn if I ate anything red or brown and got pretty bad gas if I had ice cream – and of course, ice cream was the thing I craved the most. And to top it all off, I found out a couple things that they don't teach you in school about having babies.

See, in school, they tell you: Boy and girl have sex. Boy ejaculates inside girl. Girl gets pregnant. And then they show a video of the birth. Then they show a clip of the mother breastfeeding and she looks the way she was before she got pregnant. ERRRR! Wrong! My belly is apparently going to look like I'm pregnant even after I give birth for some time. Oh yeah, and speaking of giving birth, if the baby doesn't fit, the doctors are going to cut my vagina some to make him or her fit through. And if something goes wrong, they're going to have to cut my stomach open and snatch my baby from the womb. WHILE I'M AWAKE. And after the baby's born, I'm going to have to give birth to something called a placenta. Now, I knew this, but up until a month ago, I had no clue what it looked like. They look like weird, giant, bloodied up jellyfish – but the insides are even worse. I was sitting in my birthing class I'm taking, watching the video, and the doctor decides to cut one open. Immediately I reached for the cup I was drinking out of and puked out my guts, which caused quite the chain reaction. One woman threw up also, and another one got so upset, that her water broke.

So, yeah, maybe I wasn't grateful for the backaches and the barfing that pregnancy brought. I guess some women just take to pregnancy better than others. What I was grateful for, though, was the fact that even though Andre was across the country, he still supported me. He called me multiple times a day, just to hear me bitch and moan about how I look like a whale. He'd say, "Baby, you're not fat. You're pregnant. And you're the most beautiful pregnant woman in the world." And sometimes I thought to myself that he had some kind of fetish, because he'd always ask for me to show him my belly on our little webcam dates. I was so glad that, even though he could be with anyone, he stayed faithful to me. Because he loved me. And this baby. I couldn't ask for a better man to spend the rest of my life with.

I was also grateful for Trina. Boy was she a lot of help. She went to work at around nine at night, didn't come home until five in the morning, and still managed to make sure I was comfortable. She basically took Andre's place as far as my neediness was concerned. At seven in the morning, I had cravings for peanut-butter swirl ice cream and tomato and rosemary omelets, and guess who made/got them for me? Trina did. And she also rubbed my feet when it hurt to walk, lifted my big ass up from the couch because I could barely lean up on my own, ran my bath water when I felt way too stressed, and she even got me a $200 bottle of cream that's supposed to help fade my stretch marks. It was times like those when I really regretted treating Trina bad in front of my friends, or period, actually. I could never repay her for it, because well, after seeing what I went through, she was totally for 'Team Sterilization,' not that she ever wanted kids to begin with. She'd rather have a puppy. She was the best sister in the world, and I couldn't imagine going through this pregnancy anywhere else but in our apartment…which wouldn't be ours for too long.

I was moving back home to LA. It hurt me to leave Trina, but I couldn't raise my baby in a house with someone who doesn't even like them. She had done enough for me, so I made the decision to leave so that she could go back to throwing wild parties and smoking pot and whatever else she did before I moved in. Besides, my parents wanted me to move back. Since my mom didn't work, she said that she would give me a hand in raising the baby, and since my dad had moved up from being a cop to being a detective, he made more money and said he didn't mind the extra mouth to feed until I could figure out my next move. I was clueless when it came to that.

Working at the magazine, Muzix, was a dream – but I couldn't leave my baby behind just to have a career in the industry. I knew I had to swap band interviews for diaper changes, traveling to Vegas to see a performance for traveling to the pediatrician, and all the great musicians for something bald and wiggly. I had until after my maternity leave to figure something out – because I had been working from home for the past week handing e-mails and inquiries and things like that. Boring desk and computer and phone stuff. I was back to doing what I started out doing when I first moved to San Francisco, only I was doing it in LA – although I can say I didn't hate being in my pajamas all day, unless I had a webcam interview with an artist, which was rare. My boss said that nobody was comfortable around a pregnant woman, not even on the Internet. She was right. How could someone be comfortable around me, when I wasn't comfortable myself?

"Tori? Are you up, sweetie?" I heard my mom ask outside my room door.

I was back home. Back in my room. My parents didn't even touch it – it was exactly the same, but I couldn't say the same for Trina's room. My parents had surprised me and turned it into the nursery. The colors were mint green and pale yellow – neutral colors because I still didn't want to know the sex of my baby. I sighed when she tapped on my door. All I wanted to do these days was rest, but it seemed like every five seconds my mom or dad would come check on me. Other times, I felt like I was in a dream. That I wasn't pregnant. And I could go back to living normally. Unfortunately, this wasn't true and it would never be true. I would never go back to living normally. A baby changes everything.

"I'm up, Mom. I'm just relaxing," I said.

I must've woken the baby up, because not long after I called to my mom, I felt it moving around. I lifted my shirt and put my hands on my stomach. I ran them back and forth, gently. My mom walked in and smiled.

"Gonna miss him being in there?" she joked.

She was totally convinced that it was a boy. That Andre had somehow broken some chain because all of my dad's family members had girls. There wasn't a boy in the bunch. Meaning almost all of my cousins were girls, which got quite annoying around the holidays. You know, all that estrogen in one place. She said the shape of my belly told her that it was a boy, too. I didn't understand that, because to me, all pregnant women including myself just looked like we had beach balls under our clothes.

"Yeah right. I can't wait for my stomach to go back to normal," I groaned, as I felt the baby kicking. "He's mad we woke him up," I grunted again before starting to rub my belly nice and easy.

"Oh? Let me feel!" And I did.

Her eyes lit up with glee and happiness. I loved to see her like this, because it would always be with me…as well as that night we all found out I was pregnant and she wouldn't remove herself from the bathroom. She had gotten used to the idea of becoming a grandmother. Even if she was kind of young and 'good looking' as she likes to say. And we came up with a solution so she wouldn't feel so old. When the baby was old enough to talk, he'd call her Lolly and call my dad Pop. At least, that's what we wanted – it was up to him or her to decide, really. But we thought it was super cute.

"Sometimes I feel like you should be the one pregnant, Mom. You're always so happy about my pregnancy," I chuckled and nudged her.

"Well, after the eighteen hour labor I had to deal with having Trina and the breech birth I had to endure with you, I said 'no more,' although your father was sure if we tried for one more he would've had a son," she shrugged and walked over to the me. She crawled into bed next to me, and sat upright. She reached her hand across my belly, bit her lip and tilted her head. "I can't feel anything."

"Here, right here. Press a little," I said, guiding her hand to right where I felt him kicking a bit earlier. Her eyes widened and I smiled. I looked down at her hand, and the baby was physically making it move just a teeny bit.

"Amazing, isn't it?" she said. "Tori," I could hear her voice starting to break. "I know we were hard on you and Andre, and I know that this baby is pretty much why we didn't want you having sex, but I can't tell you – and I'm speaking for your father, too – how happy we are. You and Andre are in love, and so what you're starting a family early. We love the both of you and we love this baby no matter what," she finished, sniffling. She took her hand off of my belly and wiped her eyes.

"Mom, c'mon, I'm already hormonal. Don't make me cry, too," I joked, fighting back tears with all of my might.

If I would've told her how I felt, we would've been just a room full of sobbing. I knew that it was hard for my parents at first, and they were saints for taking me back with this baby. They were amazing parents for loving Andre and the idea of us becoming a family, no matter how quickly it happened. Or how it actually happened.

"Okay, baby. Well, I just wanted to see if you were okay and if you needed anything. Are you hungry? I could go get ingredients to make family potpie," she grinned before nudging me. I nodded.

"Mm, that sounds really good," I said, licking my lips. "You won't be long, right?"

"Right. I'll probably be back before you get up from your nap," she said, getting up. "Now you just rest, okay? And I'll have my cellphone in my hand the entire time I'm shopping just in case, okay?" she said, walking over to my side of the bed. She took the blanket that was at my feet and covered me up with it. I snuggled into my pillow some before she kissed me on the forehead. "Call me if you need anything. I love you and I'll see you soon," she said softly. She walked quietly from the bed to the door and I could already feel myself drifting off.

"Mom?" I said, sleepily.

"Yeah, hon?"

"If you and dad would've had a baby boy, what would you have named him?" I asked. She turned around and without skipping a beat answered me.

"His name would've been Antonio, after your dad's father. Our kids: Trina, Tori and Tony," she smiled. "Anything else?"

"Nope. See you when you get back," I said, nuzzling into the pillows once again.

"Sleep tight," I heard her say before hearing my door shut.

"Tony Vega," I said to myself. "Antonio Harris…"

It kind of had a ring to it.