take care of yourself

[attitude]

Every time that Faye thought she'd finally learned to accept her pregnancy in full, something came about to prove her wrong. In some ways, it felt like taking regular steps towards some blurred and as of yet uncertain destination. Telling Dean had been the first big step, one that left her feeling exposed and shaky at best, to learn that someone else was much more prepared for the changes to come than she was herself. Recognizing each symptom thereafter had been an almost painful process, one which drew out a sense of lingering paranoia. Were her aches caused by the pregnancy? Was she losing sleep because of anxiety? Was she, could she, had she— an endless myriad that never seemed to solve for itself, because some answers simply couldn't be had no matter how great the effort to root them out.

And that morning, she'd come across yet another problem: the clothes that she'd picked out for herself at the beginning of the month, skin-tight and every bit as capable of exuding confidence as the bright yellow she used to wear, were somehow too small around the waist.

Naturally, Faye knew that the changes had taken place since day one. But in some way, the baby was still a distant notion at the start. Fatigue, she could blame on the mental stress. Nausea, she could blame on poor eating habits. But a thickening of her waist felt somehow undeniable, because Faye Valentine was not one to let herself go to any extent, and her size had remained constant since she woke up in that chamber those few years ago.

Something else was changing, and still Faye felt like she was digging her heel stubbornly against all of it.

For the time being, her solution was to snag a shirt out of the several that Dean sometimes left at her place, before slipping on the loosest pair of jeans she had. Maybe she didn't look like much, but at least it masked the constant thrum of her chest as she took a deep breath, setting out for the common dining room, even if she had the lingering suspicion that her nausea would make it hard to keep anything down.


[ Dated April 20th, this is the post for anyone who knows Faye and wants to hear about baby stuff first-hand from her! ST/LT welcome, no limit, go wild. (Sorry for being slow enough to require backdating.) ]

Comments

[little_moons]

Rumbling out a laugh, I said, "I thought you didn't want any advice. I can't read your fuckin' mind."

I flash her a grin, but then I fall quiet, tracing my finger along the tabletop in front of me.

"I dunno. I mean, it's scary as shit, but neither of you are alone, you know? You need help with like, anything, you ask or... I dunno, I'll probably be gettin' in your fuckin' way when you don't ask. I mean, it's not much advice or whatever, but that's basically all that got me through. Havin' Dean and Kara and Charlie or whoever. And you and Dean've got that, you know? People who give a damn."

[attitude]

"I was being difficult," I tell him, arching a brow. "You'd better be prepared to learn how to spot that." It's not really a threat, but... well. If Neil plans on continuing to hang around Dean in the way that he has, it might be for the best if he learns the kind of person I am. And the first part of that is realizing that I, like everyone else in the human population, but perhaps on a greater basis, lie. I lie. I stretch the truth. Flip it on its side.

However it best suits me.

But I listen respectfully enough once he starts giving me what I asked for. It's a bunch of mushy stuff, really, nothing that I'd normally take to heart. Sometimes, though, I feel like I should try. I don't know what much I can say, but since I'm trying, I say to Neil, "People who give enough of a damn to help with diaper duty?"

God, diapers. That's going to take some thinking about. Later.

[little_moons]

"Hey, you'd be surprised," I say with a rough cough of laughter, knowing she's probably dismissing half of what I'm saying, but that's okay. It's bullshit, anyway. There's nothing to say, nothing to do, other than bothering to stick around, when they need me to.

"I changed a few diapers, when the girls were tiny, and it's not like I had to. I mean, Eostre probably would've bitten my head off if I hadn't helped out, but whatever."

[attitude]

I pause for a moment, and I find that the more Neil talks about Eostre, the more curious I am. Not that I need to know every detail of her life, but maybe I'm more inclined now to think about mothers and their parenting styles more seriously than I ever have before. Beyond that, though...

"Do they remind you of her?" I ask, eyes narrowed in thought. "Their personalities, I mean. Seems like she disappeared pretty early on."

[little_moons]

"Yeah, I... There are things 'bout her in both of 'em. I mean, they were only one year old when she disappeared, but... Like, Flo? She's softer, nurturing like Eostre could be, but she was also stubborn and filled up a room, the way Mack does," I say, smiling distantly while I talk about her.

For a long time, I thought about Eostre as little as possible, 'cause anything else hurt too fuckin' much. Now, that sense of loss, of guilt, has faded into something manageable.

[attitude]

"I hear that you can be pretty stubborn at times. And you care enough about Dean to be talking to me, of all people," I point out, almost managing a grin, although it doesn't quite make it all the way. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear, though. I'm hoping the kid takes after Dean. Also hoping he's a boy. Girls might get the better clothes, but something tells me all of the trade-offs still don't come out quite even."

It's the helplessness, my mind adds. Too many odds stacked against us as a group. Too few choices.