Chapter 151 Pregnancy Again

Chapter 151 Pregnancy Again
AMELIA POV
Four months after publication of my book “Speaking Your Truth”, Grace is almost three when I discover I'm pregnant again, staring at another positive test in our bathroom while she plays with her toy kitchen downstairs, singing a made-up song about pancakes.
We'd been casually trying for a few months, wanting Grace to have a sibling close enough in age to be friends, and Daniel and I had talked about how different it would feel this time, knowing what to expect.
The positive test still feels surreal, even though we planned for it.
"Darling!" I call out, and I hear his footsteps on the stairs, faster when he hears the tremor in my voice.
He appears in the doorway, concern crossing his face until he sees the test in my hand and the smile I can't contain.
"Again?" he asks, his face breaking into a grin.
"Again," I confirm, and he crosses to me in two strides, pulling me into his arms and spinning me around.
"We're having another baby," he says against my hair, and I can hear the joy in his voice, the excitement without the terror that colored our reaction to Grace.
This pregnancy is different from the first in almost every way. My body remembers what to do, settling into the changes with less shock and more acceptance. The nausea comes but it's manageable, nothing like the months of misery I had with Grace.
We tell Grace first, sitting her down in the living room with serious faces that make her eyes go wide.
"Grace, you're going to be a big sister," I tell her, taking her small hands. "There's a baby growing in Mama's belly."
She looks at my stomach, still flat enough that you can't tell, and her face lights up. "My baby?"
"Our baby," Daniel corrects gently. "You'll be the big sister, which is a very important job."
Grace takes this responsibility seriously, immediately becoming protective of my belly in a way that makes my heart melt. She brings me crackers when I look tired, pats my stomach gently when we read stories, tells everyone we meet that she's getting a baby.
"Is big sister," she announces to the grocery store cashier with immense pride.
At the anatomy scan, we learn we're having a boy, and Daniel squeezes my hand so tight it almost hurts.
"A son," he whispers, staring at the screen where our baby is stretching and kicking.
"Liam," I say, testing the name we'd discussed if we had a boy. "Liam Daniel Hart-Sterling."
Daniel's eyes fill with tears. "After your dad?"
I nod, my own vision blurring. "He would have loved being a grandfather. I want to honor that."
We tell Grace she's getting a baby brother and she processes this seriously. "Brother like Oliver?" she asks, because Oliver is the only brother she knows about.
"Smaller at first," Daniel explains. "Like Lily was when she was born, remember? He'll be tiny and he'll need us to help him."
Grace nods and immediately starts practicing with her dolls, feeding them pretend bottles and changing their diapers, mimicking everything she's seen us do. She tucks them in carefully and sings them the lullaby I sing to her, and watching her prepare breaks my heart in the best way.
The pregnancy is easier emotionally than the first because I don't spiral into the same fears about losing myself. I know now that I can be both mother and self, I've proven it with Grace. I still write during her preschool mornings, still maintain my identity alongside my role as mother, and the confidence I've built makes this pregnancy feel less like drowning and more like expansion.
"I'm not as scared this time," I tell Daniel one evening, his hand resting on my growing belly.
"About losing yourself?" he asks, and I nod.
"I know I can do this now. I know we can do this. Together."
He kisses my forehead, his hand moving in circles. "We're good at this partnership thing."
Daniel is even more hands-on this time, managing Grace while I rest, handling bath time and bedtime on nights when I'm exhausted, never making me feel guilty for the physical toll pregnancy takes.
"Go nap," he tells me one Saturday afternoon when I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. "Grace and I are going to the park."
"You sure?" I ask, but I'm already heading toward the bedroom.
"Positive. We'll bring you ice cream on the way home."
They do bring ice cream, and Grace climbs into bed with me to share it, telling me elaborate stories about the ducks at the park and how Daddy pushed her "so so high" on the swings.
Evelyn is overjoyed about a second grandchild, knitting another blanket and talking about how lucky these kids are to have each other. She comes over twice a week to watch Grace so I can rest, and seeing her healthy and present makes me grateful all over again for the years we have with her.
Harper and Jade, married for a year now, visit constantly and talk about starting their own family someday.
"Watching you two makes it look possible," Harper says one afternoon while Grace shows Jade her baby dolls. "The juggling act. Having kids and careers and lives."
"It's chaos," I tell her honestly. "But good chaos. Worth-it chaos."
"That's what I figured," Harper says, and she shares a look with Jade that makes me think their timeline might be sooner than someday.
Preparing Grace to be a big sister becomes a family project. We read books about new siblings, let her help set up the nursery, involve her in choosing things for Liam. She picks out a stuffed elephant that's almost as big as she is because "baby need friend."
One evening, about two weeks before my due date, Grace pats my belly with unusual seriousness, her little face solemn.
"I protect baby brudder," she announces. "No bad peoples."
My breath catches and I look at Daniel, whose eyes have gone suspiciously bright. Even at almost three, Grace understands the value of protection, the importance of keeping those we love safe.
Daniel pulls both of us close, one arm around me and one around Grace. "Our family," he whispers, and his voice is thick with emotion.
I rest against him, Grace tucked between us and Liam kicking inside me, and the fullness in my chest feels like it might crack me open.
"Our family," I echo, and the words hold everything we've survived and everything we're building.
Grace falls asleep between us on the couch that night, and we carry her up to bed together, taking turns kissing her goodnight. In the hallway outside her room, Daniel takes my hand.
"Thank you," he says quietly.
"For what?"
"For this. For giving me this family. For trusting me enough again to build this with you."
I cup his face with my free hand, feeling the rough stubble on his jaw. "Thank you for becoming someone I could build this with. For doing the work. For choosing us every day."
He kisses me softly, one hand on my belly where Liam is doing what feels like acrobatics. "Every single day. No matter what."
Two weeks later, my water breaks during breakfast, and the chaos begins.