“Fuck, this pregnancy is going to be the death of me.”

Moonlight cast ethereal beams through the window of Sarah Gillian’s bedroom. She begrudgingly sat amidst the rays of light, the building pressure in her bladder forcing her into action.

She huffed out a string of mumbled expletives as she struggled to stand. Her tiny frame overwhelmed by the growing swell of her belly, making it impossible to move as she once would.

A few futile attempts later, she finally found herself vertical. Her spine arched to support the new weight and her feet throbbed with each step. She ached from head to toe, but her newfound waddle made the necessary adventure to the restroom more comfortable.

After an infuriating process of relieving herself, she felt much more human, more willing to greet the night with the respect it deserved.

Sarah stood in front of the massive window in her bedroom, looking up at the moon, studying its illuminated magnificence. Sarah adored how the moon and stars consumed the darkness, sparkling like beacons of faraway dreams. She’d always loved the night and its unsuspecting beauty.

She turned to her bed, seeing her husband still fast asleep. Sarah smiled at his relaxed state, his limbs thrown haphazardly across the bed. Her heart swelled as she imagined them starting a family together. Though Sarah wanted to go cuddle him, she knew she would find neither comfort nor sleep if she joined him again. With slight disappointment, she quietly left the room, giving her husband a few more hours of sleep.

The beauty of the night around her house inspired her. With nature acting as her muse, Sarah felt the urge to paint.

Using only natural lighting, Sarah set up an easel in her living room. She moved around the canvas with ease, the motions engrained deep within her. She cast blues, blacks, whites and yellows upon the once bare paper. The night coming to life before her between the spiraling hues of dark and contrasting the light.

The sun had begun to rise when she set the paint brushes down. She found a sense of peace in her art when she stepped back to look at the finished product. Her hands, pajamas and hair had smudges of paint, though she didn’t notice nor care.

She smiled, content with her efforts. After a few moments of appreciation, Sarah tidied up her late-night hobby and set her sights towards a new goal: breakfast.

In the kitchen, she hummed a familiar tune to herself and she gently swayed her hips. She stretched above the stove, grabbing a few spices to utilize in her meal. The crackling oil beneath threatened to reach out and burn her but she raised a brow in response, as if asking the oil where it found the audacity to attempt such a thing, before turning down the heat.

She continued to dance to the tune in her own head. She chopped vegetables, cracked four eggs, and grated some cheese with elation fueling her movements.

Placing her freshly washed hands on the swell of her stomach, she cooed good morning to the unknown infant inside her. The idea of being a first-time mother consumed her with excitement and trepidation. Though she knew, together, she and her partner could handle any storm to come.

Sarah had just dropped the omelet mixture in the sizzling pan when she heard a floorboard creek behind her. She smiled and continued her mission as if she hadn’t heard anything.

Another quiet creek was heard, this time slightly closer to her. Sarah smiled wider, her back facing the noise, shielding her face. Quietly, she chuckled before speaking.

“Good morning, my darling husband,” she mused.

She heard a faint muttering behind her before two arms wrapped around her, cradling her and her belly.

“How do you always know?” he chuckled, kissing her temple softly.

She laughed, leaning back into his embrace, “You’re just that predictable.”

“Here I was thinking I was a spontaneous romantic. Guess it’s time to go back to the drawing board,” he stated with a smirk against her hair.

“You’re perfect just the way you are. But, sneaking up on a heavily pregnant woman cooking you breakfast wasn’t your smartest idea.”

“Ah. I suppose when you put it like that…” he trailed off imaging how things could have gone poorly very quickly.

Sarah turned in his arms and wove her dainty fingers in his hair, “I guess it’s a good thing your wife has superpowers. You’ll never be able to sneak up on me.”

He smiled at her, momentarily lost in her eyes. She pulled him closer kissing him softly between mumbled I-love-yous.

The heat upon Sarah’s back reminded her of breakfast causing her to gently pull away. “Can you set the table for me? Breakfast is almost ready.”

Her husband stole one more searing kiss, tucking her long wavy hair behind her ear before nodding at her request.

The couple continued with their individual tasks, moving around each other with practiced ease. When Sarah’s husband had completed setting the table for two, he put the T.V. on, as was part of his morning ritual. The television broadcasting recent events broke the silence of their quaint little home.

“Do we really need that this morning?” Sarah asked in a lighthearted tone.

“It’s good to keep up to date, Sarah,” he chuckled, knowing she didn’t really mind.

Sarah chose to tune out the news of the day, opting to focus on the musical cacophony in her head instead.

She finished breakfast and placed the omelets on the table. Her husband had propped a pillow in her chair for her and she found herself pleasantly comfortable upon sitting down.

“Thanks, love,” she stated with genuine appreciation in her eyes.

“Anything for you,” he responded, raising a brow at the amount of hot sauce she was pouring on her omelet. Perhaps wisely, he chose not to comment on it.

They ate together, chatting about how to organize the nursery and any last-minute plans they needed to complete before the baby arrived.

During their discussion of pram options, Sarah had glanced up at the clock.

“Oh! Peter! You need to get to work!”

Her husband’s eyes darted to the clock before jumping out of his seat. “Where did the time go?” he muttered, running up the stairs to get dressed.

Sarah leaned back to watch him sprint off, chuckling at his haste.

They were both so blissfully consumed by their near future that they had missed the daunting news report upon the T.V.

“Tensions have continued to rise in Caledorn as Remdia threatens to invade. Though, with Remdia’s forces seemingly gathering on the border of Caledorn, it looks as though this isn’t just a threat. The attack is becoming more real by the second. Please stay tuned.”