Hey Everyone! This is something I've been working on forever. (No really, for about 3 months...) Anyway, it's something short and quick, but I hope you enjoy!
I don't get around much anymore, but I'm still here and still loving everyone's stories, so keep it up!
Review when you get to the end? :)
With a deep sigh, Chandler stuck his key in the lock and unlocked it, letting his wife of just over a year enter before him.
He sat his and Monica's bags down on the floor and stuck his hands in his pockets, watching as she wordlessly went into the bathroom and shut the door.
More silence.
Last night in the hotel room, silence.
The cab ride to the airport, silence.
On the flight home, he watched the back of her head as she looked out the window, occasionally wiping a tear from her cheek.
He finally reached for her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers as he gave it a squeeze.
"Honey," he said softly, "will you please talk to me?"
Her pained eyes met his, and she pulled her hand away, "I don't want to talk."
So, he watched the back of her head for the rest of the flight as more tears streamed down her face.
Silence.
The apartment was that way too. They hadn't been gone long, only a couple of days. He could tell Joey had been here because there were dirty dishes in Monica's perfectly clean kitchen sink. But the usual high energy, full of life place was just cold and lonely and too quiet.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning to pick up the bags again, taking them to their bedroom.
He heard the bathroom door open and soon after the kitchen sink was running. She was washing Joey's dishes.
He knew that ninety percent of dish scrubbing now was not because she loved everything clean. It was to try and take her mind off of it. To see if she could think about anything else.
He walked out of the bedroom and watched her toned arms scrub from behind for a few seconds, then headed towards the couch, sitting on the end of it, smoothing down his shirt.
"Do you need some help?" He finally asked her.
"No, Chandler. I don't need anything from you." She spat at him.
He swallowed and tried to ignore the pain that rippled through him.
She was taking it out on him. But it wasn't his fault, none of it was. She was mad and sad all at the same time, and he knew he would be taking a verbal beating for it.
He leaned over the arm of the couch and pressed the play button on the answering machine.
"Hey you guys it's Rachel, I just wanted to call and find out how-"
Chandler quickly pressed the delete button, cutting off their friends' voice. After the next two messages finished, one reminder that a movie was due back to Blockbuster and one reminder of Chandler's dentist appointment, there was silence again.
He hoped she didn't hear it, but she turned and glanced at him, then looked at the machine as she wiped her cheek again.
He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how he could fix it. There was no fixing it.
The decision was made, and that was that.
He loved his wife with every fiber of his being, and would give his own life if it would fix the problem.
But it wouldn't, nothing would.
He listened as she put away the last dish, walking past him and into the bedroom.
He ran a hand over his face, then mentally prepared to go in there, to try and talk to her, calm her down, let her know that everything was going to be okay.
Eventually.
He locked the door. It never really got locked except at night. He and Monica usually wanted their friends to come over and hang out.
Tonight was different. He didn't feel like company, and he knew Monica didn't either.
He silently crossed the living room again and walked into the bedroom. She was emptying their overnight bags.
He awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching her. She was making herself busy with clothes and not making eye contact with him. He wondered if she knew he was in the room.
He finally took a few steps forward and sat down on the edge of the bed.
She wiped her face and moved back to the closet, hanging up one of her shirts.
"Monica, sweetie," he tried to grab her hand, but she pulled it away from him.
"Chandler, please," she pleaded, her voice shaking, "I can't do this."
She folded a pair of pants and pulled open a dresser drawer roughly, placing them inside. He looked down at his hands, not having any idea what to say.
He wanted to talk to her, to get what was bottled inside of her out. Maybe it would help them both get through this horrible time, he thought. All he could do was keep trying, "What can I do?"
"Nothing!" She turned to him quickly, tears continuously streaming down her face now. "you can't do anything. Nobody can do anything!" He stood up and walked over to her, but she took a step backwards and put a hand up, "don't." She began to cry harder, "Just go away. I can't…"
He ignored her, taking another step towards her. She pushed on his shoulders just a little, her nightgown from her travel bag in her hand as she started to push on him even more, hitting him repeatedly in the chest.
"Just leave me alone!"
Chandler took the beating in his chest and finally got his arms around her, hugging her tightly as she broke down, finally giving up and crying into his shoulder.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered to her, rocking back and forth as she sobbed into his chest, soaking the shoulder of his shirt. He could tell by the way she held onto him that her knees were weak and she was having trouble standing on her own. "Come here," he said softly, leading her to the edge of the bed and pulling her down onto his lap.
She held onto him, burying her face into his neck.
He hated to see her hurting like this. He hated that he couldn't fix it.
"Why me?" She cried, her voice breaking, "why us?"
Chandler shut his eyes as tears burned them, "I don't know," he finally said, squeezing her even a little tighter against him.
"First, I fall in love with Richard," she had to stop and take a breath, "who wanted to marry me but didn't want a family."
He stroked her hair, remembering how crushed she was after her relationship with Richard ended, "I know."
"Then, I fall madly in love with you, and we're finally married, and," she stopped and turned her face into his shoulder so that she could sob again, "and I can't have a baby."
Chandler felt a tear finally fall from his eyes as he heard everything out loud. She was completely right.
"Then, we finally get picked," she continued, "somebody picked us to adopt a baby." She gripped his shoulders harder now and he squeezed her harder, "And then she changes her mind?"
Chandler swallowed the lump in his throat as the memory of yesterday afternoon flew into his mind.
"Hey you guys," Erica said, smiling brightly as she sat across from them.
Monica smiled back at her and grabbed Chandler's hand, "Hey Erica! How are you feeling? Just two weeks from the big day!"
"Yeah," Erica replied, "just two weeks. I'm feeling good," she continued, "a little heartburn, but the doctor said that was normal."
Monica grinned and looked over at Chandler, "our baby's going to have a lot of hair," she said excitedly.
Chandler smiled back at his wife. He'd never seen her so happy. They were finally getting the first part of their family. No one deserved it more than her.
"Do you have another sonogram for us?" Monica asked, "we're having them framed for the nursery."
Erica smiled, but then her face fell a little. "Well, actually," she said, causing Monina to look up at her, "that's kind of what I needed to talk to you about."
Chandler noticed the strange look on Erica's face, and it made his gut churn, "what's going on?" He asked her, glancing at Monica, "is everything okay?"
Erica looked down at her hands, "yeah, yeah, everything's fine. Better than fine, actually."
"Is everything okay with the baby?" Monica said, noticing Chandler's concerned face, then adding her own.
"Yeah," Erica said quickly, "I'm fine, the baby is fine, everything is fine."
"Then, what is it? What do you need to talk to us about?"
"Well, you know how in the first interview with you guys I mentioned that my Mom and I had a big fight and she said I couldn't keep the baby because I wouldn't get any help from her?"
Chandler and Monica only glanced at each other, then looked back at the young girl in front of them.
"And then I met Paul, my new boyfriend, and he's really great. He said he'd love the chance to help me raise a baby…"
"Erica," Chandler interrupted, "what are you saying?"
Erica looked away from them again, "well, my Mom said I could move back in with her, and she's got a very nice house, with a room for me and the baby. And Paul said he'd marry me." She met the couples eyes, "so, I've decided not to give up the baby," she finally said, "I want to keep it."
"Erica, don't do this," Monica said, her voice breaking. "Please, please don't do this to us."
"I'm real sorry," Erica replied, unable to meet their eyes, "I really hope you guys find a baby soon because you're both very nice and…"
"Erica," Chandler interrupted her again, "I don't think we need to hear anything else."
Chandler slammed his eyes shut as the expected pain rippled through him. The rest of the afternoon was a complete blur.
"How could she do this to us?" Monica asked him softly, making him come back to the present time, "what did we do to deserve this, Chandler?"
"I don't know," he admitted, trying to keep his own emotions in check.
He stroked her hair softly for several more minutes, silence filling the room again.
This was extremely hard for him.
It was extremely hard not only for the situation, but because his usual strong, fearless, beautiful wife was falling apart. And he couldn't fix it.
He began to think about going back down to Ohio after the baby was born and taking it from Erica anyway. It was supposed to be their baby in the first place.
Maybe he'd luck up and find a sympathetic judge and only have to do 20 years in prison for stealing a baby instead of a lifetime.
Wow. He couldn't believe his mind was making up such scenarios, but at the same time, he did believe it because it was all to fix Monica and her shattered heart.
He swallowed hard, "I can promise you something, though," he felt her turn her head towards him and he looked down at her tear covered blue eyes, "you and I are going to have our family," he whispered brushing her hair away from her face, "Even if it's 10 years from now, you are going to be a mother, Monica. You were made for it, and I swear to you, it will happen. I'll make it happen."
Monica looked up at him, her blue eyes still tear filled. "How?" She asked, her voice raspy, "how are you going to make it happen?"
"Honey…"
She moved from his lap, wiping her face, "you can't. You can't promise me that. This could happen to us again, and again, and again. The mother can always change her mind. I can't go through this again. I won't."
He sighed, shaking his head and wiping his own face, "what can I say? What can I do?"
She shook her head again, "nothing," she said, "there's no way to fix this."
She began working on the clothes again, and he stood from the bed, "there are other options," he finally said, "let's go back to the agency and hear about them."
"Chandler, will you please just…" she took in a shaky breath, "I don't want another baby right now. I almost had one, and it was ripped away from me."
"Monica…" he watched her for a few more seconds and shook his head, feeling defeated.
He'd given up.
Later that night, he laid down next to her in the bed and let out a deep breath, grateful that this horrible day was coming to an end.
He listened to her breathing, instantly knowing that she wasn't asleep. He heard something hit her pillow, and the same sound again.
She was crying.
He turned over and pulled on her shoulder, surprised when she turned towards him. He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her.
"I love you," he whispered to her.
She gripped his t-shirt tighter and shut her eyes. "I love you too."
Eight days later…
"Hey," Ross called, walking into apartment 20.
"Hey," Chandler replied, standing from the table and placing his coffee cup in the sink.
"How's Mon?"
"Heartbroken," Chandler replied, then shook his head. "She's not herself," he admitted.
Ross sighed, his concerned face looking towards their bedroom, "did she go to work yesterday?"
Chandler shook his head again, "Just for about an hour. They sent her home."
"Maybe I should try to talk to her."
Chandler pulled on his suit jacket and tightened his tie, "well, she's probably asleep," he said, "she was up most of the night."
Ross looked at his brother in law again, "why was she up most of the night?"
Chandler sighed and rubbed his own tired eyes, "she's been sick. I can't get her to eat a full meal and she can't keep anything down."
"Rachel said she..."
"Hey, wait," Chandler interrupted, "she doesn't want everybody talking about her."
"Well, we're just worried about her," Ross said quickly. "It's only going to make things harder if she pushes her friends away."
Chandler pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know that," he said, softening his tone. He stuck both hands in his pockets, "I just want her better, you know? It's been hard for me too, but I'm worried about my wife."
"I know," Ross replied, placing his hand on Chandler's shoulder and then giving it a squeeze, "you guys will get through this."
Chandler nodded back at him, then looked down at his watch, "I gotta get going." The two men walked towards the door, "hey, if you come and talk to her, please try and convince her to go to the doctor at least."
Ross nodded, "okay. I'll come back in a few hours before my class."
Ross knocked on Chandler and Monica's bedroom door softly, turning the knob after there was no answer.
She had her back to him, so he walked around the bed quietly.
"Mon?" He called softly, and her blue eyes met his brown ones.
"What are you doing here?" She asked sharply, but her voice was raspy.
Ross sighed, "I'm worried about you," he replied, "everybody is worried about you."
"I'm fine," she said.
"Monica," Ross said taking a couple of steps towards her, "you are not fine. You won't get out of bed and Chandler said you have been sick."
Monica rubbed her face and sat up in the bed, "It's just a stomach bug. I'm fine," she said again, "but I really don't feel like company."
"I'm not company," Ross argued, "I am your brother and I'm worried about you."
She rolled her eyes and sat up, throwing her legs off the side of the bed. "Ross, I really just want to be by myself, okay? I'm okay, and Chandler is here after work to…" she had to stop as the world's most awful feeling took over her body. She leaned over and vomited into the bucket that sat next to her bed.
Ross took a couple of steps towards her and moved his sister's hair, holding it back for her.
She finally finished and Ross took a step back from her, crossed his arms and shot her a disbelieving look.
She wiped her face and let out a sigh, "thanks."
"You're going to the doctor. Even if I have to carry you there."
Monica rolled her eyes at him, but finally gave up the battle. Chandler had been begging her to go too, and she was tired of arguing with him, and now Ross..
She knew why she felt so bad, she knew a doctor visit would be just a waste of time. She felt bad because she was so upset and distraught over the Erica situation, and her body was definitely struggling to function.
"Fine," she said to him, her voice raspy, "get out of here while I change."
Her brother studied her, not budging from his spot.
She looked up at him, furrowing her eyebrows, "Ross, go."
"You're not gonna go out the window or something, are you?"
Monica rolled her eyes and stared at him, dumbfounded, "Seriously, butt munch. We're on the 5th floor."
Ross stared back at her, "there is no need for name calling."
She sighed and gave him another look, prompting him to hurry out of her bedroom door.
Monica changed clothes, brushed her hair and walked out of her room, spotting her brother sitting at the kitchen table.
"Let's go, I wanna get this over with."
"Hi, Mrs. Bing?"
"Yes, hello," Monica said, shaking his hand.
"I'm Dr. Garner. The nurse tells me you've been vomiting?"
Monica nodded, "yes, but I don't think it's from any sort of virus or anything."
The doctor pulled over the stool and sat down on it, "why do you say that?" He asked.
Monica looked into his brown eyes, "well, uh, my husband and I were all set to adopt a baby, but the mother decided to keep it, and I just," She sighed and wiped a tear away, "It's just been hard for me to get over." She took in a deep breath, "I think my husband and friends are being overprotective. They kept insisting that I come see a doctor."
He looked over her chart, "Overprotective?"
She nodded, "I can't seem to hold anything down," she admitted, "I've been living off of saltine crackers and water. But I know it's because I've been so depressed."
"When did your symptoms start?"
She swallowed and ran a hand over her arm, "About a week ago." She sighed, "But I've been feeling weird over a month. I've been anxious and excited, though, and I know that's the problem, I know why I've been sick."
"And where did you go for the meeting about the baby?"
Monica felt tears build in her eyes, and she was determined she wouldn't let them fall. She was tired of crying.
"In Westerville, Ohio."
He nodded, "well, you don't have a fever," the doctor replied.
Monica shook her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, "I think I just need something to help me get over this. I know that's the reason."
The doctor furrowed his eyebrows at her, shaking his head, "I'm not so sure about that." He started asking her what seemed like a million questions, ones she didn't think she needed to answer, because, damn it, she knew what the problem was.
"Okay," he finally said, "I'm gonna run a few tests to see if we can narrow down the problem."
Monica sighed, nodded and sat back further on the exam table.
Monica opened her apartment door a couple of hours later, still in a mild state of shock. Ross sighed, walked in behind her and shut the door, following his sister to her couch.
"Okay, Monica, you're really freaking me out. Seriously, what did the doctor say? You've looked freaked out since we left there."
Monica nodded and felt tears spring up in her eyes. She put a hand on her brother's arm and gave it a squeeze.
"I can't tell you right now," she said, her voice breaking with every word.
He turned his head, a thousand possibilities racing through his head of what could possibly be wrong with her, "why not?"
She licked her lips and shook her head, trying not to break down in front of him.
"Chandler will be home soon," she whispered, "I have to tell him, then I can tell all of you, okay?"
"Monica…"
"Please, Ross," she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, "I have to get through telling him. It's not gonna be easy and I need to figure out how to tell him."
Ross swallowed, shaking his head, "fine." He stood from the couch and walked over to the door.
Monica wiped her face and watched him from the couch, and she could sense that he was angry with her, "hey, Ross?"
He pressed his lips together and turned back around, looking at his younger sister, "don't be mad at me, okay? I know that you care, and I love you for that. But I need to talk to my husband first. Please understand."
Ross let out a sigh, but nodded, "okay."
She watched the door close and wiped her face, not having clue how to tell Chandler what the doctor had shocked her with earlier.
Chandler walked in to apartment 20, sat down his briefcase and pulled on his necktie to loosen it.
"Hey honey," he said, walking over to her, "you made dinner?" He placed his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to place a kiss on her lips.
She swallowed and nodded, "I wanted you to have something special."
Chandler turned his head, confused, "why?" Another tear ran down her face, but she quickly wiped it away, "what's wrong?"
She shook her head, "please sit," she said, pulling out his chair for him.
"No, come on. Tell me what's wrong."
"Chandler, please. I made this nice meal for you."
He sighed and clicked his tongue against his teeth, but sat down in the waiting chair. She walked over and locked the door, dimmed the lights and then walked back over to join him at the table.
"What's going on?"
She smiled at him, "I made your favorite," she said, her voice breaking a little. She sat down his plate and glass of wine.
"This looks delicious honey, but I can't eat until you tell me what's going on."
She shook her head, "I want you to enjoy it while it's hot."
He sighed but picked up his fork, scooped a bite onto it and moved it between his lips. He took another bite, and then another. He sipped on his wine and looked over at her as she took her first bite.
She shut her eyes and hoped she could keep the food down.
"I'm glad to see you eating," he said softly, placing his hand on hers.
She put her hand hand on top of his and smiled, squeezing it..
"When I first met you, I had no idea you would be this important to me," she said, forming half a smile for him.
He smiled back at her, the memories of their first encounter all those years ago flooding back to his brain.
"I didn't know either," he said softly, "but I'm so incredibly glad things turned out the way they did."
"Me too. I love you."
Chandler turned his head a little, confused at her mood. He finally smiled and leaned over even closer to kiss her, "I love you."
She nodded, pressed her lips together and wondered how his kisses still made her feel like she was flying to the moon.
"Ross came over here today."
Chandler finished chewing his next bite before nodding, "I saw him before I left for work this morning."
She looked over her shoulder and checked on the oven timer, then turned back to him, "he wouldn't take no for an answer about going to the doctor."
Chandler nodded, "good, did you go?"
She sighed and a few more tears ran down her face, "yes."
Chandler looked at her, at her tears, and his heart sank to the floor. He dropped his fork and grabbed her hands, moving over closer to her. "Oh my god, honey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
She licked her lips, peeking over her shoulder again just as the timer dinged, "I need to get the bread."
He sighed and tightened his grip on her, "Monica, screw the bread. Tell me what's wrong. Right now."
"I don't want it to burn," she said softly, "will you please grab it?"
He stared into her blue eyes, trying to find out what was wrong with her in them, but came up empty. He groaned and let go of her hands, standing and grabbing the pot holders next to the oven.
He opened the oven door and pulled out a perfectly round piece of bread. He sat it on the stove and pulled off the pot holders, "what's this in the middle?"
She wiped another tear and smiled as he leaned down for a closer inspection.
There was a small flag in the middle of the bread, with some sort of date written on it. He squinted to read it, "February 12?" He turned to look at her, confused, a million things running through his mind, "what's February 12th?"
She chuckled and stopped trying to wipe her tears now, there was no use.
"Why is there a giant bun in the oven with February 12th on it?" He asked, and it was then, when he said it out loud, that he knew exactly what it meant. His face lit up and he sat down in his chair, but moved it closer to her.
"You're pregnant?" He asked, still in a state of shock.
Monica pressed her lips together and nodded, then reached in her back pocket, pulling out a sonogram picture.
"We're pregnant," she whispered to him, handing him the picture and placing her hand on his forearm. She watched as he looked at the small black and white picture in awe, and as a tear ran down his face. God, she thought, she was a lucky, lucky woman to have him.
"So, um," he cleared his broken voice, "you're okay? Everything's good?"
She nodded, "I wasn't sick because of the situation with Erica, and it wasn't a virus." He looked away from the picture and into her eyes, "it was morning sickness."
"Oh my god, baby," he pulled on her arm, "come here." He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. He moved one of his hands and placed it on her stomach, "I can't believe this is happening," he whispered, rubbing his face against the side of hers.
She smiled down at him and placed her free hand over his on her belly, "me either," she whispered back, "I made them show me proof," she chuckled, sniffing and wiping her face again.
"I swear I couldn't love you more than I do right now," he kissed her temple, "but I know I will tomorrow."
She turned to him, leaned down to kiss him again, "I love you, and there's nobody else in this world I want to raise this baby with."
"You're going to be an excellent mother," he said to her, diving in for another kiss.
When they finally broke, he pulled her close again to hug her tightly. After that, she moved off his lap and took his plate, "I'm going to warm this back up for you," she said, chuckling a little. I knew it would get cold."
He smiled and moved his chair back to it's place at the table, diving back into his meal with his favorite dish, favorite wife, and favorite baby all in one room.
Damn, life was good.
Chandler turned off the lamp next to the bed and crawled in next to Monica, slipping his arms around her, "so I guess Ross already knows, huh?"
She chuckled, "no, I didn't tell him. I wanted to tell you first."
He smiled at that, then kissed her shoulder, "So what did you tell him the doctor said? I know he asked a million questions."
"He did," she confirmed, "but I told him I had to talk to you first. And I kept crying, because I was just so happy and in shock." She turned to him in the bed and moved closer to him, "he probably thinks I have some sort of horrible disease or something."
Chandler smiled, "we'll tell them tomorrow?" he asked.
"I probably would have waited if he hadn't came with me to the doctor, but since he knows there is something going on, we should tell him tomorrow."
"Your parents are going to be thrilled."
"So will yours," she smiled.
He laughed, "Baby Bing will have three grandma's."
She smiled, "oh, he or she will be so loved."
"Defitnitley."
Monica moved into his chest and sighed, "you know, a few days ago I thought that my life was over. I thought we would never get a baby, and that you and I were just not going to have our family," Chandler closed his eyes, glad that the horrible time was over, "but now, I think we're so perfect."
"We are," Chandler agreed, kissing the top of her head.
"I love you," she whispered, and he smiled, he would never tire of hearing that.
"I love you more," he said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, allowing her breathing to lull him to sleep.
"Tell us," Ross pleaded, standing and putting Emma in her play pen, "Why can't you tell us and then tell Joey when he gets here?"
Monica shook her head, glanced down at Chandler, then back at her brother, "Ross, no. This is the kind of thing I want to tell everybody together, okay?"
Ross rolled his eyes and then sat by Chandler, "come on man, you gotta tell me. I couldn't sleep last night, ask Rachel. This is not okay. What's wrong with Monica?"
Rachel put her hand on Monica's, "yeah, come on Mon, tell me, please?"
"Wait, guys. Just wait," Monica said, sitting in the arm chair, "Joey said he was on his way."
"Chandler…"
Chandler sighed and shook his head, "no, Ross. We're doing this Monica's way."
Ross rolled his eyes again and stood, walking over next to Rachel.
Chandler and Monica agreed to keep a straight face, until they told them, and it was proving to be very difficult. But none of their friends, Rachel, Ross, Phoebe and Mike, seemed to notice that they were so happy they could fly.
About five minutes later, and about halfway into a story of one of Phoebe's crazy stories from when she was younger, Joey rushed into Ross and Rachel's apartment, out of breath.
"Finally!" Ross said, interrupting Phoebe.
"Hey, everyone, sorry I'm late," Joey said, sitting in Monica's vacated seat next to Emma, "what's going on?"
"We would know if you were here half an hour ago," Ross grumbled.
Joey looked over, ready to fire something back at him, but Rachel put her hand on Joey's shoulder to stop him.
Chandler stood and walked over to Monica, wrapping his arm around her waist.
She cleared her throat and took out an envelope, turning it over a couple of times, "so, as you all know," she started, and tears were already burning her eyes, "I've been pretty sick these last few days, well, the last week really."
She looked over at Chandler before continuing, "Chandler and Ross made me go to the doctor, and it wasn't easy, because I just knew the reason I was sick. We were all set to get our baby, and then it was ripped away from me. And that isn't easy. My heart is still crushed over that."
"I am really worried about you both," Phoebe said, "I wanted to come by and make sure you were okay."
Monica nodded, "I know, and I'm sorry I pushed everyone away, even Chandler. But I knew there was nothing anybody could do. I didn't want to see anybody." She took in a deep breath before continuing, "but Ross took me to the doctor yesterday, and they ran a few tests and told me what was wrong."
"What is it?" Rachel asked, a tear rolling down her face, "are you sick?"
Monica finally smiled, looked up at Chandler, and he smiled too, then took the picture out of the envelope, "No," she said, tears rolling down her face again, "I'm not sick."
She flipped the picture over and everyone in the room gasped, "I'm pregnant."
Both girls jumped up and ran over to her, Phoebe grabbing her for a hug and Rachel inspecting the sonogram. Ross let his mouth hang open for a few seconds before standing and joining Mike and Joey to hug them both.
"I'm so happy for you both," Rachel said, "this is amazing! I thought you couldn't have babies?"
Chandler smiled and nodded, "we thought so too," he said, "that's why Monica had no idea she was pregnant. We didn't think it would happen."
"How far along are you?" Phoebe asked.
"Six weeks," Monica said, smiling as her friends gathered around them, "I'm due February 12th."
It was then, when her friends started to ask a million questions, when she realized that she was possibly the happiest pregnant woman in the world.
She was complete.