Chapter 91 Third Trimester

Chapter 91 Third Trimester


Harper stood in front of the bathroom mirror at thirty-six weeks, trying to remember what her body had looked like before pregnancy. It seemed impossible that she'd ever been able to see her feet, tie her own shoes, or sleep through the night without getting up to pee seventeen times.

"You okay?" Sebastian called from the bedroom.

"Define okay," Harper said, waddling out. She'd officially entered the waddle phase. No amount of prenatal yoga could prevent it. "I'm huge. I'm uncomfortable. The baby is using my bladder as a trampoline. But sure, I'm okay."

Sebastian looked up from the nursery checklist he'd been obsessing over for days. "Only four more weeks. Maybe less if the baby comes early."

"Four weeks feels like forever." Harper lowered herself onto the bed with the grace of a beached whale. "Help me lie down. I can't do it myself anymore."

He immediately set aside his list, arranging pillows around her with practiced efficiency. Under her bump, between her knees, behind her back. The pregnancy pillow fortress that was their nightly routine.

"Better?" he asked.

"Marginally." Harper shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make her back scream. "How much longer until my body is my own again?"

"Well, after birth there's recovery, then breastfeeding if you go that route, so technically…"

"Don't. Don't finish that sentence." Harper closed her eyes. "I just want to sleep on my stomach again. Is that too much to ask?"

Sebastian lay beside her, hand settling on her bump. "How's our little resident today?"

As if answering, the baby kicked hard enough to make Harper gasp.

"Feisty," she said. "They've been doing gymnastics since 4 AM. I don't think they understand that nighttime is for sleeping."

"Getting us ready for newborn life."

"Great. Can't wait." Harper felt another kick, this one to her ribs. "Okay, baby. Mom's ribs are not a punching bag. We've talked about this."

Sebastian laughed, pressing gently where the baby was moving. "Hi in there. This is Dad. Can you maybe go easy on Mom? She's working really hard to keep you safe and cozy."

The baby kicked his hand.

"I think that's a no," Harper said.

"Stubborn already. Wonder where they get that."

"Definitely from you."

"Me? You're the one who refused my initial offer and made me come back three times."

"That's not stubborn, that's having standards." Harper yawned hugely. "I'm exhausted but I can't sleep. How is that possible?"

"Because you're uncomfortable and worried and probably need to pee again."

"I just went twenty minutes ago."

"And you'll need to go again in ten. It's the baby pressing on your bladder."

Harper groaned. "I hate how much you know about pregnancy. It's unnatural."

"I like to be informed." Sebastian kissed her forehead. "Can I get you anything? Water? Snacks? A new body?"

"The last one, please." Harper struggled to sit up, giving up halfway. "Help."

Sebastian pulled her upright, and Harper immediately felt the baby shift position, pressing on something uncomfortable.

"Ow. Okay. That's a nerve." She pressed her hand to her side. "They're running out of room in there."

"Good. Means they're growing. Healthy." Sebastian stood, offering his hands. "Come on. Let's walk around. Movement might help."

"Movement makes me tired."

"Lying down makes you uncomfortable. Pick your poison."

Harper let him pull her to her feet. They walked slow circles around the apartment, Sebastian's hand on her lower back, supporting her. This had become their evening routine too. Walking, talking, trying to ease the constant discomfort of late pregnancy.

"Jessie texted," Harper said. "She's having twins."

"What? I thought she was just pregnant."

"Surprise ultrasound revealed two babies hiding in there." Harper smiled despite her exhaustion. "She's freaking out. I told her welcome to the club of terrified parents to be."

"We're not terrified."

"We're absolutely terrified."

"Okay, yes, we're terrified." Sebastian guided her to the couch. "But we're also ready. The nursery's done. Hospital bag is packed. We've taken all the classes…"

"Which won't help when we're actually holding a screaming newborn at 3 AM with no idea what we're doing."

"Then we'll figure it out. Together. Like everything else." Sebastian sat beside her, pulling her feet into his lap. "Want a foot rub?"

"Always."

His thumbs pressed into her swollen arches, and Harper groaned with relief.

"You're good at this," she said.

"Lots of practice." Sebastian worked up to her calves, easing the constant aching. "How's the swelling today?"

"Terrible. I think my feet are 50% water at this point."

"Doctor said it's normal."

"Doctor says everything's normal. I could tell her I'm growing a tail and she'd say it's normal."

Sebastian laughed. "You're not growing a tail."

"You don't know. You can't see back there. There could be a tail."

"There's no tail."

They sat in comfortable silence, Sebastian massaging while Harper tried not to fall asleep sitting up. The baby was quieter now, probably also tired from the morning gymnastics session.

"Sebastian?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared." Harper's voice was small. "Really scared. About labor, about bringing them home, about being responsible for keeping a human alive."

Sebastian's hands stilled. "Me too."

"But you're always so calm. So prepared."

"That's just me trying not to panic." He moved to sit beside her, taking her hand. "Harper, I'm terrified. What if I drop the baby? What if I'm changing a diaper wrong and don't realize? What if I'm too controlling or too distant or too much like my father?"

"You won't be."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're already not. You're here, present, worried about doing it right. That's the opposite of your father." Harper squeezed his hand. "We're going to mess up. A lot. But we'll do it together and we'll keep trying."

"When did you get so wise?"

"Pregnancy has given me perspective. Or maybe it's just the exhaustion lowering my anxiety filter." Harper yawned again. "I need to sleep but I can't get comfortable."

"Come on." Sebastian stood, helping her up. "Let's try the bed again. New pillow configuration."

They went through the elaborate process of getting Harper into bed. Pillows adjusted, lights dimmed, white noise machine on. Sebastian climbed in beside her, hand immediately finding her bump.

"Goodnight, baby," he whispered. "Let Mom sleep tonight, okay? She needs rest for the big day coming up."

Harper felt tears prick her eyes. Hormones or emotion, she couldn't tell anymore.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too. Both of you."

Harper closed her eyes, trying to relax into sleep. The baby gave one last kick, then settled. Small mercies.

But sleep wouldn't come. Her mind raced with all the what ifs and maybes and terrifying possibilities. What if labor went wrong? What if something happened to the baby? What if she couldn't do this?

"Stop thinking," Sebastian murmured in the dark. "I can hear you worrying from here."

"How do you know I'm worrying?"

"Because I know you. And because I'm worrying too." He pulled her closer, careful of her bump. "But we've got this, Harper. I really believe that."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because look at everything we've already survived. Contract marriage, corporate warfare, attempted arson, family drama. A baby can't be harder than all that."

"A baby is definitely harder than all that."

"Okay, yes, but we've proven we can handle hard things." Sebastian kissed her temple. "We'll handle this too."

Harper wanted to believe him. Tried to believe him. But fear kept its grip tight.

"What if I can't do labor?" she whispered. "What if I freeze or panic or can't handle the pain?"

"Then we do whatever we need to. Epidural, C section, whatever keeps you and the baby safe. There's no wrong way to give birth, Harper. Just whatever works."

"Promise you'll be there? The whole time?"

"I promise. Wild horses couldn't drag me away." Sebastian's hand rubbed gentle circles on her bump. "You're the strongest person I know. You'll amaze yourself."

Harper felt some of the fear loosen its grip. Not gone, but manageable.

"Four more weeks," she said.

"Give or take."

"I vote for less. I'm done being pregnant."

"Tell that to the baby."

As if responding, the baby kicked once, gently this time. A communication. A promise.

Harper finally felt sleep pulling her under. Sebastian's hand warm on her bump, the baby quiet for now, the fear still there but bearable.

Four more weeks.

They could do this.

They had to do this.

Their baby was coming whether they were ready or not.

Harper drifted off with that thought, Sebastian's breathing evening out beside her, both of them dreaming of the person they were about to meet.

The person who would change everything.

Their daughter. Their son. Their beautiful unknown future.

Waiting just on the other side of labor and fear and the biggest leap of faith they'd ever taken.

Four more weeks.

Ready or not.

Here they come.