Chapter 12: Month Five Mood Swings

A little over halfway there. Goddam it to hell, I'm only a little over halfway there!

This, the middle of my second trimester, has been the hardest stretch of my pregnancy to date. My belly is very pronounced, and I am already seeing changes in the way I have to move. I am slower, more clumsy than I usually am. I am even starting to waddle! Waddle! The indignity of it all!

It is an otherwise peaceful Saturday afternoon, and Peeta and I are starting to clean up our room while still getting ready for the day (we sleep late on the weekends). At my vanity, I test a shirt in the mirror, before changing it out for a new one. There! This one is much better. Until I realize….. DAMN IT!

I turn around, now decent, to see Peeta sweeping on the other side of the room. He doesn't even notice the calamity I'm in! I clear my throat and he finally looks back to me.

"Peeta….." I ask, the calm barely holding the chaos at bay. "Whose shirt is this?"

He grimaces, puzzled at what he obviously must think is such a silly question. "Ummm….. yours?" Then he looks again. "Wait….. you're wearing my shirt!"

"EXACTLY!" I scream at him, finally exploding.

And then Peeta commits what I would classify in this moment as a cardinal sin. He bursts out laughing. A pleased grin plasters his face. "You're wearing my shirt!" and he seems rather proud.

"I DON'T THINK IT'S FUNNY, PEETA! AND IT ISN'T FUNNY, BECAUSE NOTHING I OWN FITS!" Forgetting that Peeta has never seen me naked, complete or partial, I tear off his shirt and fling it into the closet. Were it working properly, the rational part of my brain would definitely tell me I am getting way too worked up over this, but I don't care. How dare he think this is a moment to laugh or puff up his manly chest as if this is some…..accomplishment! Doesn't he see that….. oh God…..

The roller coaster ride I'm now on hurtles me into a new realm, and I suddenly want to bawl like a child. I refuse to do this in front of Peeta, though - unlike him, I still have my pride! So instead, I just pout.

"I'm ugly," and my voice comes out in a whine.

"What?" Peeta splutters, seeming genuinely incredulous.

I march back to my vanity mirror and throw my arms out as best I can. "Look at me!" I spit. "I'm fat and I'm ugly! There! I said it so you don't have to! I look like one of the stupid pigs in your backyard!"

I hear Peeta chuckling behind me, and I am just about to light into him again when his voice stops me:

"Katniss. You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

I stare at him, at a loss for words. Did he really just call me beautiful? I self-consciously tug at my braid and look away.

Peeta chuckles again, a low, rumbling, glorious sound. "There. I said it so you don't have to." I would ordinarily laugh at his turning my own words back on me, but I can only sniffle. I feel him pull me into his arms, and it does not take any convincing for me to hug him back. "Don't you see, Katniss? You're glowing! I actually find it quite adorable. But what's even more adorable is that you don't even realize you're glowing!"

I turn my head against his chest so I can see our bodies intertwined in the mirror. I wish I could believe what he is telling me. But I can't. And I don't exactly want to think about it right now. My crankiness returning, I push against his chest, towards the door.

"Just…. go! Go to work! I'll see you after your late shift!" Peeta has taken on extra evening and night hours at the bakery on Saturdays. More income in case we need to buy other things for the baby, he told me.

I wait up for him, of course, just as my mother used to do for my father when he came home from the mines. Or what any wife might do for her husband; I suppose this is how it would work. Besides, I can't go to bed without him anymore. It is after midnight when he finally walks in the door, making sure to not wake anyone up. Always the considerate one.

Seeing him standing there, after missing him for nearly half the day, I remember our fight in our bedroom and am moved to tears. I begin to blubber.

"Peeta, I'm so sorry I yelled at you today! I was such a…."

He takes me in his arms without hesitation. He really is so lovely. "Sssh…. it's all right. This is normal. Sssh…."

I am just beginning to let his words calm me when I notice his face. Even in the dim light, I can make out…. a black eye. It sets me off again.

"Who….. who hurt you?"

Peeta chuckles dryly. "You didn't need to ask 'what happened' first? I'm impressed…." He leans back to get a good look at me and shrugs. "My mother."

I start crying all over again. I know by now that Peeta's mother is a cruel, awful woman. The fact that he had to put up with that and my bitching earlier….

Peeta seems to read my thoughts. "Katniss, I forgive you. And don't worry. If you think your mood swings are bad, my mother must be in a never-ending pregnancy. Trust me: for her, this is pretty standard fare."

That doesn't make it right, I want to tell him, but I can't get the words out amongst my tears.

"I love you, Katniss."

"But why?" I whisper, tears streaming down my face. It is a fair inquiry. I have never thought of myself as pretty, or even a girl worthy of notice. And I am not the easiest woman in the world to love; my own family could attest to that, Mother probably more than Prim. "Why do you love me?"

Peeta blinks, as if the answer is obvious, and I guess - to him - it is. "Because I came alive when I met you."

I sniffle against his shirtfront. "Where…. where did you learn to talk all sweet like that?"

Peeta's chest quakes as the laugh comes out of him. "That's easy. I do sales pitching for the customers who come into the bakery. Between that and decorating the cookies and cakes, kneading the dough, it keeps me pretty busy."

For the first time all day, I smile. Of course. I should have known. Peeta can use words like no one else I have ever met. It's one of the many things I….. love about him.