"Siren, wake up," a woman's harsh voice spoke.
I opened my eyes. I wasn't sure how long I'd been sleeping for, but it felt like ten minutes.
Above me, my mother was holding a lamp and I could see her angry face. She was holding a lamp in her left hand.
"I know pregnant women get sleepy a lot, but could you at least spend more time with us?" Mom held lamp very close to my face. It was too close for comfort.
"I guess." My voice was weak. I really wished my mom wasn't here, especially with how she abandoned me when I was young. Over what? A dragon killing her father wasn't a good thing, but she could've stayed on the island, even if she hated Dad that much. I couldn't see myself abandoning my child over something that petty.
Mom put her hand on my stomach. I removed her hand from it.
"How's the baby?" I could hear the disappointment in her voice.
"It seems to be alright. I'm just nervous." I looked away, and into darkness. "I want to rest."
"I wasn't that nervous when I was expecting you." This just reminded me why I didn't want her here. She would keep berating me for every little 'bad' thing I did during my pregnancy, though other women and the midwife assured me what I was feeling was normal. Even then, I wondered if something was wrong with me for being that nervous.
"I get that. But Al's also nervous. I think it's normal." I could feel my eyes droop. I wanted to close them so much.
"It's natural for women to have babies. That's why they shouldn't be nervous. Men are different," Mom said.
I've learned that's bullshit. All my pregnancies have taught me that.
"I'm not sure that's true," I said, turning over. "I want to get some shut-eye."
"Suit yourself." I could hear Mom walk right out of the room.
I sighed. I just wished I could give birth already. Sure, a baby would be hard work, but at least I could have an excuse to avoid Mom and Dad.
"The one in pink is Gunilla," I said to Dad. It had been nine days since I'd given birth to twin daughters, and both of them were a lot of work. Al and I hadn't expected twins. I'd come up with one name for one daughter and that was Gunilla. "She's eight minutes older than her sister, Hilde." Al chose Hilde's name. It was only fair since I decided Gunilla's name. "I kind of wish they weren't identical twins," I said with a chuckle. "We're going to avoid dressing them alike so we can actually tell them apart."
"Siren, it's your job to make sure they don't cry while they're being named," Dad said sternly.
"Yes," I said. Today they were being named, and Dad wanted everything to go perfectly. He wouldn't have it any other way. It was only ten minutes before the rest of Berk would arrive for the naming. Al and I wanted it to be held in Meathead Island because neither of us wanted to risk our babies' health by flying them that far, but my parents guilted me into it.
"You were born here. You abandoned us." They spent four days guilting me into it. Four days. All for a naming ceremony.
So Al and I risked our children's health to come to Berk. I was secretly hoping they were happy, and both of us were eager to head back home to Meathead Island.
Speaking of Al, he came right into the room at that moment with Mom.
"How's my lovely wife?" he asked, taking both my hands in his.
"I'm good, and so are the girls." It did make me feel better to see Al there, with his warm, reassuring smile.
"How are my lovely daughters?" he scooped Hilde into his arms. He spoke in a baby voice, like he did ever since the girls were born. Al enjoyed being with them so often that he stayed up with me whenever I needed to feed them.
"They're doing more then well, Daddy." That was my response whenever he said that. It always made me happy to say that, especially since it felt nice to loosen up.
"That's good," Mom said, interrupting our banter. She pulled Hilde out of Al's arms and put her back in her crib. "The guests are coming soon. This is no time for stuff like this."
"Yes, Mom," I said dismally. Al put his arm around my shoulder, which lifted my spirits for the next hour I'd have to spend naming two twin sisters.