At last, it was the waiting game. Most of the days, Qian Meng was on the bed, on her side, propped up on pillows under her head, behind her, between her legs… She fully used the voice-to-word feature on her laptop to get most of the work done. Whatever little she was allowed to do, that is. The rest of the day was a mixture of her listening to the radio, sleeping, browsing for things for the babies. It was mixed in with the babies kicking, heartburn, and quite a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions.

But Qian Meng was happy to know that she had only twelve hours left before she went to the hospital.

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Both Mo Qingchen and she knew that they wouldn't have the time to be bored for the next eighteen years.

Mo Qingchen walked around the room, looking for anything he might have missed to put inside the backpack.

"Stop pacing around the room, you are making me dizzy," Qian Meng said softly. She looked at the bundle of nerves that was her husband and started to chuckle.

"I don't know if I have taken everything," he responded urgently.

"I have a copy of the list you made. Let's check, okay?" she urged. He looked more scared than she was feeling. He nodded and sucked in a deep breath.

"Check," she prompted firmly. Mo Qingchen crouched down beside the bag and waited for her.

"Our photo identity cards. The health insurance information. Hospital registration forms." He hummed as he looked through the folder with the paperwork. "The birthing plan: for if I am unable to speak during the C-section and the doctors and nurses need a guideline of how I want everything to happen." He checked it, his body stiffening at the very thought.

"Change and cash for snacks, gift store errands, and any cravings that I may have," Qian Meng said slyly.

He threw her a dirty look, which she ignored.

"Of course, you get to have snacks, too. Unhealthy food is best when you are as nervous as you are," she teased. Then, she continued. "Laptop, tab, and phone chargers for both of us."

"Done," he confirmed.

"My tab has been filled with music and books and series to watch." Because she would need a distraction while everyone prepared for the procedure. "Pillows," she said firmly.

Mo Qingchen looked at the body pillow she was in love with. "I will load it in the car when we leave." He looked at it with jealousy. "That pillow gets to hold you and support you all the time," he said with a pout.

Qian Meng snickered. "Touching you is dangerous," she commented. "Moreover, your body is too hard. Not as comfortable as this pillow."

He frowned but then urged her to continue with the list.

"Lollipop for dry mouth. A can of cranberry juice to reduce the risk of urinary tract infection. Chewing gum for balky post-surgery bowel function."

These things were added by her thoughtful husband, who had done a little too much research on the topic. He had also read an excessive amount of birthing horror stories, so he was carefully screening every single thing that he could.

"Personal items: hairbands, comb, and dry shampoo so that I look fabulous in the first photo with the babies," she hummed.

"Sleepwear, panties, and a robe." Because hospital clothes were uncomfortable, to say the least.

"Socks and slippers. Sanitary pads, nursing bras, and tank tops."

Mo Qingchen gave a thumbs up. "Everything is in there."

"Then come back to bed and vegetate with me," she lured him.

He snorted as he jumped back on his feet and sauntered to her side. The damn pillow was still between them, but it was fine.

He lay on his side and slowly caressed her face. The silence in the room was comfortable, but he felt the need to talk to her. He had all this pent-up energy that he needed to let out.

"My paternity leave starts tomorrow. I have two months' leave but I can stay home as long as you need me to. Don't think that you need to do everything on your own. Just focus on recovering yourself… everything else will be taken care of," he said softly. His voice was low and the rhythm almost lulled her to sleep.

"A lot of women experience postpartum depression, so please tell me if you feel unwell. I don't want you to feel like everyone only cares about the baby. If you do face complications, we will get the best treatment and make sure our family is healthy, okay?"

"You have thought about this deeply, haven't you?" Qian Meng asked. "Is that what you do every night?" she smirked.

He raised his brow in question.

"I can feel you wake up in the middle of the night and checking up on me. I know you stare at me for a long time and then place your hand on my stomach to make sure the babies are okay," she informed him. She hadn't told him anything because he would stop doing it, fearing he was disturbing her sleep. And he would suffer in silence for the rest of the night, wondering if they were okay. Giving him peace was more important.

"Why didn't you tell me I was waking you up?" he groaned.

"You weren't waking me up. I don't sleep restfully because of how big my belly is. I wake up often. Also, I enjoy your care." She removed a strand of hair from his forehead, looking at his face with unyielding fondness.

"You should have."

"I mentioned it now," she shrugged.

"Yes. Right before we go to the hospital for the babies to be born."

She chuckled at his petulant tone. "Now, stop worrying. We prepared for everything. Let's enjoy the process."

And so, Mo Qingchen lugged the body pillow along with the big bag of things into the car. Qian Meng wore a flowy dress, looking like the picture of grace and beauty as she hobbled with his support.

And the process was as smooth as she had expected. The consent forms were signed and Qian Meng was already waiting for anesthesia.

"Did that hurt?" Mo Qingchen asked from his spot beside her.

She shook her head. "Not much," she assured. "It's strange, you know? Feeling everything below my rib cage going numb," she said in wonder.