“I think she’s missed you”
“Good stretch, little one! Are you excited for Daddy to get home?” She whispers to her belly, running a hand delicately over the bump.
She was pregnant. Almost seven months, and today the little girl in her belly could not seem to stop moving. The belly she sprouts isn’t too large yet, but is still very noticeable. She suspects that the squirmy baby in her tummy is waiting for Harry to get home, usually his voice is the only thing that can soothe the little girl to sleep when she is especially active.
Pregnancy had done many things to her body, some things she had expected, other things had taken her completely by surprise.
She obviously expected the most noticeable thing of pregnancy. The growing belly. She longed to feel the full weight of her little girl growing inside her, wanting to feel the squirms and kicks as the pregnancy progressed. But she didn’t expect the growing skin to be stretched painfully taut, with the angry purple stretch marks that protested the growth. Sometimes the little girl would give particularly hard jab to her ribs, successfully knocking the breath out of her. All of these things were manageable, however, because of Harry. He caressed the swell between her hips often, many times just to say hello, but he also aided in rubbing the coconut scented stretch mark cream all over, giggling excitedly when his little girl stretched her foot into his palm.
She knew that her breasts might grow a little fuller in preparation to feed her baby when she finally gave birth, and she didn’t mind the fact. She needed some new pretty bras anyway. But she didn’t expect them to hurt, or grow two cup sizes. None of her shirts fit anymore, and even the smallest brush or nudge against her chest sent pain ringing throughout her body. Again, Harry helped. He insisted on taking her out shopping to buy new maternity clothes, she needed new jeans and stretchy shirts, and then new bras. But Harry was a menace. He pulled things off the rack that sent her squawking in disapproval, especially when it came to lingerie.
“Harry!” She would hiss at him, pulling the hanger out of his hands and throwing it back on the rack, huffing in discontent, “I can’t wear that!”
“Love,” he would respond, “You’re pregnant, not incapable of wearing nice lingerie. Please just try it on.”
Later, it was Harry huffing in discontent. After he led her to a private fitting room and demanded her to model all the clothes for him, she came out in a lacy number that pleasantly surprised him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearing his throat, while stuttering at his beautiful wife half naked in front of him. He didn’t expect to get a hard on in the maternity store.
She expected to have some mood swings, with all the new hormones rushing into her body, but she didn’t expect different emotions to flood her like the turn of a light switch. Some days, she wanted nothing to do with Harry, the smell of his cologne or sound of his voice leaving her with extreme nausea and a headache. Other days, he was the only person to assuage her needs.
Today was one of those days.
She missed her husband. She hadn’t seen him in over two weeks.
Well, she had technically seen him every day. They slept in the same bed every night, and he always without fail would kiss her and the bump before he walked out the door every morning for work.
But she hadn’t really talked to him in two weeks, they hadn't had a date in forever and rarely ate dinner together anymore. She was starting to feel extremely lonely.
She knew she couldn't blame Harry, and she didn't. He worked day and night to provide for her and their little girl, but damn it if these pregnancy hormones didn't make her want to blame someone.
It especially hit her hard when he missed an ultrasound appointment. She knew Harry had marked it in his calendar, and that they had made plans to meet at the doctor's office, but it was when she was waiting on him for more than a half an hour she knew he wasn't going to make it, because he was never that late. She tried not to dwell on her growing disappointment, instead finding joy in hearing her baby's heartbeat and giggling over the new pictures. She called Harry from the car afterward, because it didn't occur to her until then that something might actually be wrong that's keeping him from the appointment. When he answered, he was completely distraught and infuriated with himself at the news.
“I'm such a horrible father,” he broke down into the phone, sitting in the hallway right outside his studio, “She's not even born yet, and I'm already letting you both down. Baby, I'm so sorry, I've just been so busy and exhausted trying to get everything done before she comes, you know I wouldn't-”
She interrupted him then,
“Honey, I'm not angry, I know things have been out of control lately with work, I'm just a little disappointed. We miss you.”
He choked out another sob when he heard her gently in the phone. The woman he committed his life to forever is far too forgiving and understanding of his bullshit. The rage he felt bubbling in his chest at himself overflows.
He vowed to make it up to her.
But when he got home at 10:30 that night with his shitty attempt at an apology with her favorite flowers, he found her already snuggled up on her side of the bed with a hand on her tummy, snoozing peacefully. He wanted to cry again at the sight, and tears finally flooded his eyes when he found the new ultrasound photos laying on his pillow.
That leads them to today. She woke up to the flowers and a sweet note promising to be home early, and she spent the rest of the day giddy with excitement. An hour before his expected arrival home, she takes a shower to ensure that she would be soft and clean from her deserving husband.
She steps out of the shower onto the squishy bath mat, and grabs her fluffy robe. Her post-shower routine soon follows: she brushes her hair, smooths her legs with her mango body cream, washes her face, and brushes her teeth. Soon after, she puts on a pair of pretty pink lace panties, after she had sat on the bed for support to wrestle them on. The closet looms in front of her, as she dreads finding a top of hers that will compliment her shape and leave her feeling comfortable. Tears spring to her eyes as she steps into the large walk in closet, all of her clothes look rough and uncomfortable. Instead, she quickly turns to Harry’s side of the closet, and smiles with closed lips. His clothes are home. She chooses an old, soft flannel, one that had gone through the wash hundreds of times. It was her favorite flannel of his, she loved to see him wear it, and she loved to wear it herself. She doesn't even try to button the warm fabric when she manages to get it on.
“If daddy leaves his tits out on stage most of the time, I think we can leave ours out around the house, what do you think baby?” she murmurs to herself in a giggle.
Just as she shuts her closet door, her ears perk up as she hears a lock in the door from downstairs. A grin involuntarily plasters her face, and she begins to run for the stairs.
As he puts the key in the lock, he makes sure to open the door slowly, to avoid any loud creaks or noises that would wake his missus up in case she was asleep. He turns around and shuts the door behind him softly, but before he can take his shoes off and hand his jacket up on the coat rack, he hears the footsteps running down the stairs. Before he can process what is going on he looks up to see his very pregnant, half naked wife come barrelling down the stairs. A grin plasters itself on his face as he opens his arms and engulfs his wife in an embrace.
“I missed you,” She whispers into his chest breathlessly.
“Oh honey, I missed you too,” He kisses the top of her head and smells her rose scented shampoo, inhaling deeply.
“No, I missed you H,” He looks at her in confusion but when she grabs his neck and forces his lips to her he understands.
She missed him like that.
One of Harry’s favorite perks of his wife’s needs was that at times she was absolutely insatiable and horny almost all of the time.
Harry couldn’t complain. Having sex all the time with the love of his life who was carrying his child and looking stunning while doing so? He was definitely forced to increase his stamina.
She breaks the kiss and looks at him with lustful eyes, “Come on!” and turns around with her hand in his, as she begins to run up the stairs.
“Love!” He squawks, “Please be careful! Don't move so fast.” She stops halfway up the staircase,
“Harry, I’m pregnant, not incapable of going up the stairs.”
“I don’t want you to slip and fall, just be careful okay?”
She’s out of breath by the time they make it to their room. Huffing uncontrollably, she drops Harry’s grasp when they reach the bed. She plants two hands on the comforter and swings her legs up over the mattress, rather ungracefully, and lands on her back with a thud. Harry grins at her lopsidedly.
“Harry!” She wines, reaching her arms out to him and squirming on the sheets.
He quickly toes his shoes off and discards his jacket, and he is able to stay in his right mind long enough to take his belt off preemptively before he joins her.
“C’mon honey, rest up against the headboard, please?” He is always worried about her comfort, grabbing two pillows and propping them under her neck and back as she readjusts. He knows that with all of the weight gain from her pregnancy she has been experiencing intense back pain, he doesn’t want to exacerbate it if he can help it.
He returns his lips to hers, and as they kiss languidly he moves to remove her (his) flannel from her shoulders.
As the kiss gains in intensity, Harry redistributes his weight over her. He grabs her legs and wraps them around his waist, plants one hand by her head to support himself, and rests the other lovingly over her growing belly. Right as he goes to pull away to rid himself of his shirt, she lets out a groan, and not one from pleasure.
“Oof!” Her hands fly to her belly, and she squeezes her eyes shut as it seems the wind is knocked out of her.
Harry immediately sits up, not sure of the discomfort she is facing, and his eyes widen immediately in panic not quite sure if he’s done something wrong.
“Love? Are you alright?” He tries to keep the tone of his voice even, but he’s sure he’s not doing a great job.
She finally opens her eyes again, a grimace on her face.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” She looks up at him, reaching out for his hands and placing them on her swollen stomach, “Just feel. I think she’s trying to kick a rib out of place.”
He lays his hands against her warm and taut skin, and feels his daughter wiggling and moving around under his touch. He can’t help the smile that reaches his face, but he knows that this is the movement that is bringing his wife so much discomfort.
Harry couldn’t imagine holding the weight of a child in between his hips, rearranging his organs with every movement.
“Someone is active today,” Harry murmurs, a small smirk on his face.
“Yes, I think she’s missed you,” His wife responds. Harry’s face immediately crumples and his shoulders slump, reminded of his shortcomings recently as both a husband and a father.
“No no no! Wait, Harry! I- I didn’t mean it like that! Well, we do miss you but...” She struggles to sit up, grasping each side of his face in her hands, “I just… fuck!” She cries out, tears welling in her eyes. A sob rattles through her body.
“Honey, honey it’s okay…” Harry whispers gently as she cries into his neck, “Hey. Look at me please? Take a couple of deep breaths, I don’t want to stress you and the baby out.”
“I’m sorry,” She responds, face full of panic, “I didn’t mean–”
“Please don’t apologize,” He cuts her off, “I should be the one apologizing.” He presses a quick kiss to her temple.
“How was the appointment yesterday?” He forces her to look into his eyes.
“It was good,” She breaks out of his grasp to lean over to the bedside table and grab the day old ultrasound photos, “The doctor said she’s doing great and looking healthy, her heartbeat was so strong H.”
He smiles at her, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. She knows that he’s internally beating himself up for missing the appointment.
“They sent me an audio file of her heartbeat, remind me to play it for you later, yeah?” She tells him softly and he nuzzles his face into her neck.
“Okay,” he responds, “I love you so much, doll.”
“We love you too,” she kisses the side of his head, pulls his face from her neck and guides his lips back to hers.