Fluttering Fresnels Playlist

Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift
Night Changes-One Direction
Love me Like you do- Ellie Goulding
Shape of you-Ed Sheeran
When it all falls apart-The Veronicas
Shoulda Been Simple-Marie Digby
Style-Taylor Swift
Perfect-Marianas Trench
When the Love Fall, Wait There and Kiss the Rain by Yiruma.
23- Jimmy Eats World
Small Bump- Ed Sheeran
She Hasn't always been this way- Doc Walker

Chapter 20

Late February

30 weeks.

'Okay Shirley, if you hold up your side, I will anchor in mine," My dad tells my brother as they try to assembly the crib that had been delivered.

"But the instructions?" Shirley spoke up confused as it was like Dad was skipping a step.

I look over to Wynnie who was laughing lightly as we sat on my bed watching them. "I didn't think this would be so much fun," she comments

"I've built more than one crib before," Dad tells my brother with a stern voice. "They haven't changed that much in 20 years!"

"You sure about that?" Shirley says underneath his breath and grinning at Wynnie who laughed louder. He quickly steals a kiss before she swats at his butt. Dad grumbles under his breath and grabs the instruction from Shirley to read them over once more.

"You know, Ken already built the one at his place, I'm sure he can give you some pointers," I chip in and both men turn to glare at me.

"We can manage without him thank you," Dad says gruffly. "Though you sitting there watching us doesn't help us much."

"But I'm supposed to watch, I'm not allowed to do anything strenuous remember," I smile sweetly. "I mean we can get you some water," I say looking over at Wynnie who smirks and holds up to screws they were evidently looking for.

"You are positively evil," I laugh and Shirley looks back to the bed.

"Hand them over," He says holding out his hand.

"Shirley I said to hold—," Dad shouts at him, like the piece he was holding came apart once more.

"I'm a fucking doctor, I can assemble a crib," Dad says under his breath as he struggles with the tools it takes. I wiggle my way off the bed, stepping over things.

"I'm going to get something to drink," I say out loud and head downstairs.

"How's your Father doing?" Mom asks as she sees me come down the stairs.

"Pitifully?" I answer. "It's like he's never built a crib before."

"Well, Matthew humoured him when they built the cribs over the years," Mom tells me with a smile. "Brilliant doctor will most likely hit his thumb with the hammer instead of the nail."

"I offered to call Ken who got his set up, they didn't appreciate it," I tell her with a light laugh as I grab my water bottle and head back up the stairs to find mom now joining in on watching Dad and Shirley tackle the crib with a smile on her face.

It took most of the evening and several videos on snap chat later the crib and small changing table, drawers were complete. It made everything seem much more real to me, I took a deep breath snapping a photo.

The countdown is beginning. I add a caption to the photo before posting it.

I get up from my bed and wander to the bathroom in my too-small tank top and pair of shorts that still somewhat fit me. I go pee and wash my hands before I look down at the scale.

I step on it.

I sigh as I look down at the number on the scale, there was no avoiding it and it finally happened. I actually hit 140 pounds and sure everyone could tell me that it was all belly and boobs, but my hips and butt were also large. 25 pounds, a whole twenty pounds.

I jump at the sound of the door opening. "Oh, I'm sorry!" Wynnie says, dressed in a pair of pyjamas. When did she start spending the night here?

"It's fine," I say kicking the scale back towards the wall. "It's all free."

"You know you look good right?" Wynnie says to me.

"Do I?" I ask somewhat skeptical, pausing by the mirror, "I feel bloated and large."

"You know, Shirley was worried about you, back last summer when you came back from your ballet thing. He was really worried about you almost being too thin," she said blurting out and I turn to her shocked. Trying to think back to a summer intensive, how much we danced every day. They call it summer intensive for nothing, after all. I had dropped down to 108pounds for a good week or two before I went back up to 115.

"He thought I was bulimic," I say quietly remembering too that even he also found out.

"He did," Wynnie told me with a nod of her head. "Though guys have little knowledge of weight itself when I told him I weighed 130 pounds he thought I was joking." She said.

"You're not 130 pounds, I'm 140 right now and look at me!" I exclaim.

"I wear a size six, I'm 130 pounds and about the same height as you," Wynnie shakes her head.

"Well, I'll let you," I says not sure what to say or do after her declaration. She nods her head and I got back to my room.

I dug through my closet, searching for the red sundress I wore and I hold it up to the mirror. It was tiny, but yet it used to fit me. I had been so elated when I had to go down a size when I had bought it out in Winnipeg. I brought it up to my nose as I try to breathe in whatever scent was left on it. It had to be my imagination if I smelt faint traces of the familiar cologne I was used to smelling by now, mixed with the smell of the campfire.

I take a photo of it laid out on my bed, mourning it in a way. I make it black and white, but the floral design still gives it away meaning to make a post of it, but I hear a knock at my door before I can.

"Rilla, can we talk to you downstairs?" Mom says coming out of nowhere by my door.

I find nodding, wondering what talk it would be this week as I follow her to the kitchen. There is a plate of fruit cut up in the middle and I sit down as Dad who was yawning sat in one of the chairs.

"You're not in trouble, we just want to go through some things with you," Dad tries to reassure me. "Your due date is coming up, and we just want to lay in place some expectations and rules so to speak."

"Okay?" I say unsure of what else to say as Dad pushes the platter of fruit towards me. I sign and pick up a strawberry.

"School is nonnegotiable of course," Mom tells me. "I worked it out with your teachers that will do your exams early, written and practical exams. Come fall we shall see where we stand on routines and what can be done."

"I didn't think it would be," I tell them honestly.

"We suggest you talk to Tess at the shop and figure out maternity leave soon and how long you wish to be off for," Dad says next. "Give yourself time to heal, adjust, get your bearings. During the time we will cover the cost of things and get you set up with child benefit through the government. Then we can budget and decide what you and Ken will contribute, and what we will. Once you begin working again we can reevaluate when we contribute."

I nod my head again. Money, to buy all the things I would need on a daily and weekly basis.

"We have your name on the waitlist for daycare, just in case. If things don't work we will look into getting you a tutor or online schooling or a mix of both." Mom tells me.

"What if I need something or want something?" I ask them hesitantly. "Like if I have birthday money?"

"If it was a gift, then it's yours to do as you please with." Mom settles with, but they look at each other like I have no idea what I'm heading towards. "Though days of shopping around the malls for the newest pair of boots or tops will be the furthest thing on your schedule."

"I can still have Olivia over?" I ask them.

"Olivia will always be welcome, but it's not going to be the same Rilla. You'll be tired, you'll be trying to do multiple things at once. Olivia is a sweet girl, but not everyone understands what it's like to be a mother. Let alone a teen mother, trying to juggle school and work." Mom tries to prepare me for whatever might happen.

"She's not like that," I try to tell him.

"I know, but sometimes life just happens," Mom said with a sad smile.

"You're going to the birthing class tomorrow?" Dad cuts in and I nod my head.

"Ken picking me up and we'll drive out to it. He started his job this week as well. It should give me a bit more information so I can formalize whatever sort of plan my doctor wants from me. Though really I plan to just get it out of me without too much pain or needles going into my spine."

Mom snorts lightly. "I hate to break it to you, that unless you get an epidural you'll be in pain."

"What did you do?" I ask her thinking about papers I had printed out.

"Joy, Jem, Walter were natural, the twins before twins I ended up with an epidural. Shirley was an emergency c-section and you were a scheduled c-section so I had epidurals as well." Mom relayed thinking back. I nod my head. "But you also danced on your toes for years, so it is hard to know what your pain tolerance is. I would say try it drug-free until you know you can't do it."

"It's what most first-time mothers do," Dad adds on. "You don't need a diverse plan as you see on google. A simple request for possible pain relief. Intervention only when medically needed to ensure a healthy baby and mother, is the most important. I know you couldn't switch doctors, but Burnley is knowledgeable and a fair doctor, they all are depending who's on call. They did explain it could be anyone?"

I nod my head as I rub my hands over the large bump that was my child. "Will you help me go through the list I found on google?" I quietly ask for the first time since I had printed them out.

"Of course," They both exclaim. I excuse myself to run up to my room and grab them and they work through and explain things why things were on the list.

"Do you want Ken in the room?" Mom asks as we come to that part of the list, even though it had Ken already stated on it.

"It's his baby?" I say slightly confused. "Doesn't have the right to see her born?"

"It's a vulnerable moment, is what your mother is trying to say. Yes, he has a right to be there, but it's also your body and your choice who you want in the room." Dad tried to clarify.

"He wants to be there, and he promised to stay away from that area," I tell them blushing. "Though you and Joy are welcome to be in the room as well," I tell Mom. "If you want to anyway, while for you Dad. I know you're a doctor and all."

"I understand, no one wants their father in the room," Dad chuckles. "And if it happens that I am in that moment, I will hide away in a corner and pretend that I am somewhere else."

I nod my head with a small smile.

"Are you going to try and breastfeed?" Mom asks me as we get near the bottom of the paper. I look at her with wide eyes.

"I don't know? I know my doctor thinks it best but at the same time. I haven't considered it fully," I say honestly. "It's the cheaper option, I won't have to buy formula?"

"Fed is best," Dad says automatically. "You can always try for a few weeks if it works out for you. If you don't mind then all the better, but if you're uncomfortable or not producing you can always switch over."

"Though formula also allows Ken to take her for longer periods of time as well. All the same, if you're in school you won't have to pump or duck out and feed her between classes. So you can also take that into consideration," Mom reminds him and me. I just groan at all the choices and decisions.

The class was in the bright and sunny community room near the hospital. The walls were plastered with posters of various babies in different stages and details about childbirth

Lamaze class. At least the free version the hospital hosted few times a month for new parents. It came complete with a tour of the ward as well. Everyone seemed so much older as I looked around the room awkwardly and unsure of what to do. Ken had run to the men's washroom, leaving me to sign into the class. I stood there unsure of what to do until I see an older woman bustle towards me with a clipboard.

"Welcome! I'm Stacey Lewis, you are?" She asks with a smile on her face.

"Rilla Blythe," I tell her looking around.

"Ahaha, there you are. Is your boyfriend coming as well?" She asks.

"He's not—," I say, but I can smell his cologne before he even speaks.

"Sorry, had to use the washroom," he said flashing a smile that could dazzle the weakest person.

"Well, take a seat, we'll begin in a few moments," she told us. "We'll have some basic introductions and begin."

I sit down next to the second youngest couple I see, or a girl at least who was either with her girlfriend or sister?

"I'm Lacey," She says as we sit down.

"Rilla," I tell her. "This is Ken," I motion to him as he sits down as the class was being called to start.

We introduce ourselves one by one.

'I'm Dominque, this is husband Chris we're 28 weeks pregnant.'

'I'm Kara and my boyfriend Dan, 31 weeks along so far.'

'Dakota, this is my partner Kelly, 33 weeks.

"Lacey, this is my mom Kim," the girl beside me answer. "Oh, 29 weeks!"

Everyone turns to look at me this time and I blush. "Hi, I'm Rilla, I'm 30 weeks and this is Ken," I say and Ken waves to everyone.

Two or three more couples introduce themselves, and soon we get into the classes that are filled to the brim with information. Though it's embarrassingly awkward, at least for Ken and me once the teacher instructs us on the various positions to help with labour. I think it was the closest we had ever been, as I leaned into him as I sat in front of him, learning how to breathe through contractions. I could feel both of our faces burn red as his hands were placed on the back of my hips as I laid down on my side. I blushed hard and burned brighter as she had me raise my leg up in the air for him to hold it for me.

"Very good, you are quite flexible you don't need to go so high," she tells me.

"I'm a dancer," I explain quietly and she nods her head going around the room.

Even Ken learned valuable information about support and what to expect when you see your partner in a lot of pain. If I didn't come to the class with much of a birth plan in action, I knew by the end of it. I wanted drugs, all the drugs if the video she played for us told me anything.

She explained the process and recovery times for c-sections, which my eyes went wide. God, please don't like them cut into me, don't let them ruin my body in such a way! I feel Ken squeeze my hand as I look up towards him.

"You guy is cute," one of the girls says to me as we watch the men have their hands at diapering dolls.

"He's not—," I start. "But yeah he is," I say.

"How old are you?" Someone finally asks one of the older women of the class.

"I'm 16," I say quietly.

"And your guy?" One asks looking over Ken.

"A couple of years older," I say quietly. "It's complicated, but he's here which all that matters," I tell them trying to say that I didn't feel comfortable talking about such things with them.

The rest of the afternoon was touring the maternity ward, what the birthing suits looked like. All private for your stay. It was still much a mind-bender to think this was happening, in a strange way it was rather comforting that Ken had yet to let go of my hand. It was like he was thinking the same thing.

That this was insane that this was happening. That he was possibly frightened as much as I was.

"Rilla," the instructor calls out to me as we were putting on our jackets. She waits a moment before the last couple leave.

"If you're interested, there is a teen support group that meets twice a week. You're not the only young mom in the city, it might be good for you to meet a few other moms to befriend so life isn't so lonely.

"I'll think about it," I tell her, taking the pamphlet she held out and placed it in my purse.

"Are you up for seeing my mom?" Ken asks we walk to his car as the late February air was slowly warming up.

"Sure, do you want to go to the park? It rather warm we can video call her there and grab a coffee before we leave the city?"

"You and your coffee," Ken says with a smile shaking his head. "but sounds good." We drive to the park and find a quiet spot. I wait as Ken FaceTime his mother's phone.

"Ken!" She exclaims, "And Rilla!" I pop my head into the shot and wave. "Let me look at you?" I hop off the bench and pose for Leslie as Ken turns the camera around on his phone. I turn around and show off my overgrowing bump. Letting Ken focus the camera on me for a moment. "Gosh, it's surreal sometimes, to think you were the young girl running up to our house was goodbye cards you wrote us."

"I did that didn't I?" I groan a bit. Thankfully those would be long gone.

"Oh it was so sweet, I still have them stashed away somewhere," she said looking around her office of sorts.

"Oh no, you don't need to find them!" I exclaimed blushing. "Please, I don't need reminders of how childish I was."

"But it was so sweet!" She said gushing. "What did it say, Ken? That you the most handsome boy in the world? Or was it that she would love you with her whole heart while you were gone?"

"Mom, I thought you wanted to know about the baby, not embarrass us," Ken slips into the conversation.

"Fine, fine, how is everything going?" Leslie sighed.

"It's well enough I suppose. "Ten weeks to go."

"It's daunting is it not?" She says. "How ready you are for it to be over with, but at the same time the thought of it is terrifying?"

I only nod my head as I sit next to Ken.

"How was your appointment?" Leslie asks through the video call.

"Well, I got a tetanus shot," I say simply. "but everything seems to be good," I say refusing to look at Ken who ultimately knew I actually managed to lose two pounds. I promised the doctor swearing up and down that I had weighed 140 over the weekend.

"Have you thought of your birth plan?" Leslie asked me next.

"Well, I opted for drugs and lots of drugs should I need them," I tell her and she laughs.

"Always a good plan," she agrees with me. "Anything else?"

"I want to keep fairly natural I suppose. I rather not be cut open unless it's a life or death situation." I expand, and that is all I have set in place, drugs and no c-sections unless it was dire. "Ken will be with me of course, he's all signed up to cut the cord," I add one making sure to say that I see Owen in the background.

"As he should be," Owen comments from his spot. "But I am glad that everything is going seemingly."

"You'll be coming out?" Ken says speaking up to his parents.

"Of course, as soon as you're at the hospital we will catch the first flight over to be there for you," Leslie tells him. "We wouldn't miss it for the world. How is school going?"

"It's school," I say automatically like any teenager. "I have a few projects to do so I can take my exams a month early, so I can I don't have to worry about them come June."

"What about next year?" Leslie inquires trying to figure out the plan, though I am sure she heard it from the mom already.

"I'll try school, but we shall see what happens," I tell her looking over at Ken. "Ken started his new job though," I tell her with a small smile on my face. Trying to change the subject.

"Did you!" She exclaims and Ken gives me a look.

"It's good mom, some basic archiving and dusting things essentially," He tells her. "I'm still learning about the history so lots of reading in the evenings but soon enough I will be able to talk up the place like any other."

"Is it enough hours?" Leslie asked with her curiosity peaked. "If you need anything?"

"I'll manage," Ken says after a moment. "I can't live off your forever," he says. He looks towards me. I don't know much about his financial situation and he doesn't really talk about it either. "I'll be fine, please don't worry mom."

Leslie sighs and nods her head and returns to asking me questions.

It was almost dinner time when we stopped by the nearest Starbucks as I was thirsty. "What do you want, courtesy of Joy?" I asked him flashing my gift card.

"Green tea please, I'm just going to run to the bathroom," he responds and I nod my head and glad to find no line as I order our drinks. I look at my phone as I wait for my iced coffee and Ken's tea.

"Small iced coffee for Rilla" I perk up as I hear my name. I grab it and move over to the other small counter so I could unwrap my straw, I was about to pick it up when it was suddenly grabbed from the counter.

"Really dear, caffeine is not good for you," she said suddenly seeing some older woman I didn't know at all talking to me.

"Give me my drink," I tell her and she refuses. "Please may I have my drink," I try more politely and I notice a few looks starting to watch me?

"Caffeine isn't good for," she repeats. "Obviously no one told you that, but then again no one also taught you about birth control either, or how to keep your legs shut."

"Actually, my father is a doctor so there was an abundance of birth control talks. But at the end of the day shit happens," I snap at her, I reach for my drink and she swats me.

"Well, I hope for that child's sake you're placing it up for adoption, what kind of mother will you be? Your drinking coffee and what you're 15?"

"I'm almost seventeen, not that is any of your business," the barista is watching us.

"Please Ma'am we don't tolerate harassment here," they tell her as they pass me a new coffee and Kens' tea. I go to grab my coffee, which has a sip lid this time so I don't have to fiddle with a straw.

Before I could even take a drink she slaps it out of my hand and it crashes to the floor and I jump back as if I was burned.

"Apparently you can't listen. Seriously you are going to be a high school dropout, I refuse to pay taxes for girls like you! You should be ashamed of yourself, don't you know what the bible says about girls like you?" She shouts into my face.

"Hey, pregnant ladies can have a cup of coffee," Someone shouts at her, my head buzzes and I feel tears run down my face.

"I suggest you leave," a manager comes bustling towards the lady who slapped my drink out of my hand.

"It was being cleaned up and Ken came looking for me.

I was used to whispers, looks my way. The ever so hearable ' Don't be like her,' or 'why is that girl having a baby.' I thought only adults have babies' the latter coming from smaller children. Until now I mostly ignored them, but how do you ignore someone right up in your face? Someone taking your drink or slapping it out of your hand was a different experience altogether.

"Hey, hey it will be all right," Ken says rubbing my back as I sniffle and sob. For a moment it felt like I could feel him kiss the top of my head. Or maybe it was my imagination? I truly don't know at this point as I sobbed. One of the workers slides a pastry bag and on the counter, apologizing for the scene the woman had made once again. Asking Ken if he had wanted something.

"I'm going to get her home," he said shaking his head.

I was still shaken and crying here and thereby the time Ken walked me inside.

"What in the world?" Mom said jumping up from the couch.

"There was some sort of mishap at Starbucks," He explained quickly. "Some lady went all batshit over the coffee that she ordered apparently, she slapped Rilla's drink right out of her hand." He leads me down the chair and finds me a couple of tissue.

"Where were you?" My mom asks him almost accusatively as Dad comes in from the kitchen

"I went to the washroom, we were just getting coffee, I didn't think?" Ken replies a touch confused.

'You left a pregnant sixteen-year-old in a coffee shop, alone?" Mom says slowly, making each would have their emphasis. "My god both of you! You never leave her alone! Because the moment you do the women who think they have a right to berate a young girl to her face comes out. Do you know how many glares and looks I fend off or send off to people to mind their own business!"

"Anne," Dad speaks up and tries to calm down mom. "Things happen, even if he was there whoever had an issue with one cup of coffee would have made a scene. At some point, we won't be able to protect her." Dad wraps his arm around me as I hiccup and cry. I blink away y tears seeing Ken stand there look defeated.

This was life.

Hope everyone is having a good week! It's been busy for me at work I actually forgot today was Friday when I got home!

We got a lovely peek at Leslie and Owen, and of course Gilbert and Anne this chapter which makes me happy! Though I am loving Shirley and Wynnie for some reason, the more I write them the more they come alive in my head! I hope everyone is enjoying everyone as well.

Thank you Jess for your patience with all my questions pertaining to 21st-century pregnancy questions. Thank you Claire for always being around to bounce ideas off of!