Chapter 18: The Ides of March

It is a beautiful March day. The last vestiges of winter have melted away to reveal a glorious spring.

I cannot use the same adjective for my body, however. I look like I'm ready to pop. And believe me, I am. I want this baby out!

It's a Saturday morning. Peeta is downstairs, fixing lunch while I am on bed rest in our room. He'll be leaving for his late shift at the bakery in a couple of hours. Prim and Mother are out for the day, off to see a patient - there was a significant mine collapse a couple of weeks ago; several miners are still badly injured.

Suddenly, I feel a wave of liquid crash around my waist and I look to see fluid pooling around me, soaking the bed. Oh my God!

"PEETA!" He comes running up the stairs, out of breath. He stares when he sees the water. I nod stiffly.

"It's time," I croak out. He leaps into action.

"OK, OK, here we go. Uh…. hospital?"

"No time. How are you going to get me halfway across the district?"

"Your mom? Should I go fetch her?"

"She's on the other side of Twelve."

"Then what?"

"Just get me comfortable," I order. Peeta lifts me gently and scoots me back to the headboard, propping me up with pillows. I eye him pointedly.

"You're going to have to deliver it. Think you can do it?"

Peeta gulps. "I'll try."

I explode, without even knowing why his turn of phrase bothers me. It just does. "TRY?! You WILL! This is my baby, Peeta Mellark! And I swear to you, I will NEVER be this fat ever a….. ARGGHHH!"

The contractions have started. And they don't let up. Not for hours. No doctor, Peeta has to literally guesstimate how close I am to giving birth, amateurishly counting how many contractions I'm having per minute, how much I'm dilated. At last, he can see the baby crowning. The sun is just beginning to set; he won't be going into work tonight.

"All right, Katniss, get ready to push! On my mark! And…. GO!"

I scream bloody murder at the effort. I feel like I'm trying to push out a bowling ball. I can barely hear Peeta giving encouragement through the haze. With the last strength I have, I give another heave. My last scream is matched by a chorus of wails.

Peeta is practically cackling with joy. "You did it, Katniss! It's a girl! She's out! And she's gorgeous! Let me cut the cord….."

Moments later, I feel a bundle being pressed into my arms. The most beautiful baby on the planet is looking up at me, and I begin to hysterically sob.

"Look at you….. Riley," I choke on my own tears. "Riley Rose."

Peeta and I never really discussed baby names. The only mention of it that he had given was that he felt that it was my decision, and would trust what I came up with. Seeing how Peeta now reacts to the name that I have given makes it clear that I have his approval.

Just then, the baby wails and begins to reach out its tiny little hands. I stare. She's reaching for Peeta.

"Do you want to hold her?" I ask. Peeta looks unsure. "It's all right, go ahead."

I press the bundle into his arms. Peeta is grinning like a little kid, making silly faces at the little creature.

"Hey. Hi there! I'm….." He stops short and an expression crosses his face that almost looks…. guilty. I know what he was about to say, but he feels as though he can't. I just beam.

"Peeta. You can't stop her from seeing you that way any more than you can stop the sun from setting. You're her father in all but blood. Blood and DNA don't make a family. Only love can do that."

Peeta smiles, trying not to cry as he rocks his child in his arms - claiming Riley as, at least partially, his.