Dear Daily Ask,
What's the best way to take on parenthood? I know there's no instructional manual, but how do I deal with the overwhelming task of raising a child? Yikes!
Sincerely,
Paranoid Parent
The months tick by in a blur with one seeming to flow right into the other as my midsection continues to expand. Every part of me feels swollen and sore. Peeta insists I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. I insist I look like a blimp. As my due date looms closer, I feel this incessant need to clean and organize our space. Peeta looked it up, and informed me I'm "nesting." Whatever the case may be, after we had our baby shower, the loft began to feel cramped and unprepared. Peeta tries to be helpful in whatever way he can, but I usually just end up being grouchy with him. We toy with the idea of moving to a bigger house, but decide to hold off until the winter months have passed. Plus, Peeta's job at the magazine has him traveling a lot, which makes the logistics of house hunting and moving seem even more daunting than usual. So, I do what I can in the meantime to put my mind at ease.
"Katniss?" Peeta calls as I hear him enter the loft.
"Over here!" I call back from the hallway.
I hear him knock the snow off his shoes as I continue in my task. Today's mission is to reorganize the towels and cleaning supplies in the closet.
"What are you working on today?" I hear him ask as his footsteps near.
He finds me before I have a chance to respond. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. I shoot him a warning look. He knows better than to say anything, so he simply takes a seat beside me on the floor. He plants a kiss on my temple as he places a hand on my round stomach.
"Hey in there." He says leaning down to talk to my belly and giving it a rub.
"How's our girl today?" He asks as he comes up to plant a kiss on my lips this time.
I roll my eyes. "I'm going to laugh when this kid comes out a boy!" I tease as I watch him rise to his feet.
Peeta has been insistent for months that we're having a girl, even though we've both agreed we want to be surprised.
"I've got good news and bad news." Peeta says as he walks in to the bedroom, loosening his tie. "Which do you want first?" He asks, poking his head around the door to look at me, working on his shirt buttons, before retreating back inside.
"Bad." I insist as I look around trying to figure out where to start with my mess.
"I have to leave on a business trip next week for three days." Peeta says.
I give a pouty look that he can't see.
"And the good news?" I ask, continuing to rifle through the piles I've made on the floor.
"Your sister agreed to stay with you while I'm gone. Just in case." He says coming around the door again, this time pulling a T-shirt on.
I catch sight of his toned body, just before he retreats again. I quirk my eyebrow, curious to see what I'm missing in our bedroom. I grunt and huff as I work to get myself off the floor.
"You ok?" Peeta yells.
"Fine!" I sort of grunt back.
I'm out of breath by the time I make my way inside the bedroom. I'm disappointed to see I've missed his strip tease, but resolve to smother him in kisses anyway. He giggles as I pull him close, grab his face, and kiss him all over it. I end on his lips where he indulges me for awhile until the baby starts to move around, thoroughly distracting us both. We look down to consider the movement, then smile at one another.
"Do you really have to go?" I whine after a moment, thinking back to our conversation just moments ago.
"Yeah, Heavensbee insisted I go." He says remorsefully. "Says there could be a promotion in it for me." He adds somewhat hopeful.
I give a relenting nod as I leave to go back to my task in the hall.
The morning of Peeta's departure comes sooner than expected. I feel his arm wrap around my midsection as I slowly wake. I feel his lips press against my bare shoulder.
"Good morning" He says, his voice thick with sleep.
"Good morning." I reply groggily.
My stomach begins to shift and move as the baby inside seems to wake for the day. Peeta plants several more kisses on my back while he leaves his hand on my stomach, tracking the movement.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask you..." Peeta begins, a familiar playful hint to his voice.
"Let me guess," I respond. "You want to ask me to marry you?" I offer back just as light hearted.
He nibbles on my shoulder. This now marks the fifth time he has unofficially asked in the last nine months. At this point it has become sort of like a game between us. We volley our stances back and forth, neither of us ever seeming to convince the other they are right or wrong. Not to mention, he has never produced a ring during any of these conversations which makes me wonder if, deep down, he has reservations.
"Why won't you marry me?" He asks, propping his head up on his hand.
His voice sounds a bit more serious about the subject than it normally does. I sit up and throw on a nearby tank top and shorts, considering if I really want to engage in the conversation yet again.
"Because, like I've told you before, I don't want you to feel obligated to ask just because of our circumstance." I reply turning to consider him and motion to my stomach as if it weren't obvious.
"The circumstances in which the most amazing woman, that I love, is carrying my child, and looks damn sexy doing it?" He retorts giving a playful growl.
Peeta grabs my hand, offering it a kiss. I giggle back as I playfully roll my eyes at his tactics.
"No, the circumstances where we accidentally got pregnant two weeks into dating one another, and now you're forced to take care of me because you feel bad." I throw back.
This retort usually signals the end of the argument. Now I expect Peeta will lament about how frustrating I am.
"Feel bad? Yeah, I feel bad for myself! You're the single most irritating and irrational person I know." He replies flopping back on his pillow in a huff. "You know, I would've asked you by now anyway even if that weren't the case." He adds.
This is new information. I pause to consider him.
"I love you, and I love our life together. Why would we need to get married when things are perfectly fine the way they are?" I sigh offering back.
"Fine. I won't ask you again." He says with a shrug. "And for the record, I like taking care of you. I don't feel obligated." With that he closes his eyes, throws his arm over his face and pretends to go back to sleep.
I decide to leave him alone. For some reason, our argument feels different this time. This is the first instance where he has told me he won't be asking me again. Although, I can't tell if he's serious, or really hurt for that matter. I wonder briefly if I should try and smooth things over, but think better of it when I suddenly realize the time. I bolt from the room to hastily ready myself for work. While Snow has been none too thrilled with my constant doctor's appointments and pending maternity leave, he cannot deny my talent and ability to draw readers. These reasons alone have been my saving grace through all of this. Even so, I've tried my best to be a dutiful employee for my remaining days at The Press until I'm overwhelmed by motherhood. I plant a quick kiss on Peeta's cheek, offer a goodbye and hustle my way out the door.
"Are you sure you have to go?" I pout, giving Peeta a kiss as he and I embrace just a moment longer at the departures gate later that day.
He nods. "I'll be back in three days. Your sister should be arriving in the next couple of hours."
"I love you." I offer.
Something about this goodbye feels different, but I can't quite put my finger on why.
"I love you, too." Peeta responds with a gentle kiss to my forehead.
We hear his flight announced over the loudspeaker. Peeta leans down to kiss and whisper a goodbye to the baby. He stands to give me a smile then heads on his way. I get the feeling he's still upset about our conversation this morning, so I spend the drive home thinking of ways to smooth things over. Once I'm back at the loft, I begin my latest cleaning project for the day in the kitchen. As I'm putting on the finishing touches, I hear a knock at the door. Standing, I try to massage the dull ache from my lower back that has nagged at me all day as I make my way to answer it. I can't hide my surprise when I open the door and discover my mom on the other side. We exchange a greeting, and she makes her way inside.
"Where's Prim?" I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.
"Oh, she got scheduled to work at the last minute." She shrugs as if this news is inconsequential.
I watch as my mom sets her things down by the couch and assesses the space. Placing her hands on her hips, she glances around the rest of the loft, likely seeing the mess I've made of the kitchen. I can tell she's about to offer some kind of advice.
"You really should be resting." She says as she turns to consider me.
I give her a shrug. She makes her way over toward me.
"How are things with Peeta, is he taking good care of you two?" She asks, placing her hands on my midsection.
"Yes, mother." I say, annoyance heavy in my tone.
I can't help but to roll my eyes. She knows I don't like discussing my personal life with her. Plus, between Peeta and Prim, she knows everything she could possibly want to without involving me.
She purses her lips at me. "I'm your mother! I'm allowed to worry about you, you know? You wait until this baby comes, you'll understand where I'm coming from then. Mark my words!" She chastises.
I roll my eyes again and turn to walk away. I feel my mother's hand on my arm. I turn back to consider her.
"Sit down with me for a moment?" She pleads.
I nod and follow her to the couch, curious about the pending lecture.
"Katniss, I love you." She begins. "I know we haven't had the best relationship. You were always my cactus kid." She chuckles. "You were prickly and hard to get close to, but you still needed attention and care." She pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I will always be here for you, no matter what. No matter how many times you push me away. Someday you'll understand what that feels like." She finishes with a soft smile.
A sharp pain crosses my midsection then. I cringe at the effect.
"Are you ok?" She asks, concern striking her features.
I wave her off and nod. "I had a long day today." I explain as I rise from my seat. "I'm going to take a bath to relax a bit before I finish with the kitchen." I offer, heading for the bathroom.
"I'll make us something to eat." She suggests as I close the door to run the water.
As I settle in to the warm bath, I will my body to relax. I try taking some deep breaths, but the pain that grips me again suddenly is so alarming I call out to my mom. She rushes in to the room.
"Do you think this is it?" She asks, a hint of excitement in her voice.
"I don't know!" I offer, feeling panic stricken. "The doctor said I could start feeling contractions, but that it's probably nothing." I rationalize before I'm gripped by another round of pain.
There is no escaping it, and I suddenly feel trapped by the water. My mom helps me from the tub. I'm thankful that as I dry off, the discomfort subsides. I dress quickly and pace around the loft. The pain ebbs and flows, stopping me occasionally in my tracks. There's no real rhyme or reason to it, but it comes fast and strong. My mom's presence is oddly comforting to me. She is calm and collected, standing by my side as I deal with the feelings that wrack my body. I decide to text Peeta when a new, more intense round of pain unleashes itself. I try my best not to be discouraged by the raging snowstorm going on just outside the windows. My phone rings shortly after I send my text.
"I'm on my way!" Peeta says hurriedly before I can even say hello.
"It's ok. It just started." I reassure him.
"I'll be on the next flight!" He continues as if he does not hear me.
But there's no news from Peeta for awhile. While we wait, I become increasingly aware of the fact that these pains I'm feeling are most likely the real deal. So as the hours continue to tick by, I labor on with my mom by my side. My doctor has encouraged me to work through most of the process at home if I can stand it. I'm feeling pretty determined to wait to hear from Peeta. The next time I do hear from him, he texts to tell me that all flights are delayed because of the storm. He assures me he's doing everything he can to get home. Either way, he's a few hours from here on a good day. The snow finally relents as dawn begins to break. I feel delirious from pain and having no sleep. Peeta called an hour before to tell me he was getting on a plane headed for home.
"We need to go to the hospital." I announce to my mom suddenly. "Something is wrong."
I'm not sure what it is, but some part deep within me knows that something isn't right with the baby. I begin to feel panic rise in my chest and my breathing becomes more labored. My mom tries her best to calm me as we dress to head outside. The streets are near abandoned as she looks to hail a cab. I am hit viciously with two more rounds of contractions that feel as if they'll tear me in two. I cry out and grip my stomach. Something is definitely wrong. The cab driver looks as pale as a ghost, swallowing heavily as we enter the vehicle. Thankfully, we make it to the hospital in record time given the snowy conditions. Meanwhile, I fight the darkness that threatens to take over my consciousness.
As we pull up to the emergency entrance, we are whisked inside to a flurry of activity. I can barely register what's going on. The only thing that catches my attention is the sounds of a woman screaming from pain not too far away. The voices around me become more intense and insistent as I struggle to discern them over the commotion of the other woman. One of my last rational thoughts is that the screaming is not coming from a stranger at all; it is from me. I hear my mother's voice say my name, sounding as if she's miles away. I try to answer back, but feel like my lips have been sewn shut. I hear Peeta's voice next, calling my name over the chaos. My voice betrays me, and I register the sound of screams again. Then, I finally feel the pain subside as my world turns to black.