Thanks for all the reviews! One mentioned potentially have chapters written from Santana's point of view. Is that something you would be interested in? Also, I am looking for a beta-reader, if anybody is interested!
Enjoy!
"Help me, baby," you called from your precarious perch on the top of our dining room table and I just had to laugh at you. It's Hayden's first birthday party and you have gone absolutely crazy. He doesn't even know what is going on, Santana.
"I can't get these damn streamers up," you mumbled throwing the roll to the ground, resulting in the unraveling of the whole thing. Oh, baby. I pulled you into me, holding you tight, tighter, not tight enough. You know he is more interested in the fact that he has ten fingers, right?
I just want it to be perfect, you cooed into my neck, placing wet kisses there, resting against me. I love it when you just relax into me, trusting me to support you. It feels so good, knowing I can take care of you. It will be, I assured you, placing feather light kisses at your hairline.
We used to be so scared about what kind of parents we would make, if we could give our children all that they needed, if we would be enough. I can't believe I ever doubted any of that. Watching you spend hours decorating the house, baking the perfect cake, fretting over the most trivial details, Hayden couldn't be any luckier.
I was pulled out of my reverie by the doorbell. Still snuggled against me you looked so beautiful, relaxed, your mouth loose and smiling. I wanted to take you right there but it was probably your mother at the door, ready to start the party. So, instead I placed a tender kiss on your lips, pulling on your bottom lip before heading to the door.
People started arriving, each one scooping Hayden up, inevitably remarking on just how beautiful he is, which is pretty beautiful. Each time our baby was passed to a different set of hands, I could see the corners of your eyes pinch up, my protective momma bear. I went to stand next to you, wrapping my arm around your waist.
"We made a pretty cute one, huh?" I asked you. You paused for a moment before turning to me, a bright and blinding smile across your face. Yeah, you nodded and kissed my cheek. I could see that you wanted to say something so I squeezed your waist and put my head on your shoulder.
"What's up, San?" I asked. You kissed my cheek one more time and I knew it was important. Your eyes were still bright, though. Your cheeks were still tinged with the light pink of happiness and you still wore a loose smile. I wasn't too worried.
"Can we make another one?" you asked. We always kept in mind the thought of having more, but the question still surprised me. You were still looking out at the party but I can always tell when your brain is focused on something else, your hands are too still, your chin too tight and rigid.
I started thinking about the logistics, but then suddenly a little seed of want grew weightier in the pit of my stomach. I started picturing the swell of your stomach as it grows with our child, family picnics and another little Santana running around and hooking more hearts.
"Yes," I said, looking at you. You turned to look at me, your chocolate eyes glassy with tears.
"Yes," I said again, "I would love that." I saw relief wash over you immediately, like a drug. You let out a big sigh, gave me a look, one I've grown to cherish, the one that says: you have made me happier than anything ever has, and then turned back to look at Hayden. And while our family and friends enjoyed the party, you and I were picturing our new family.