I promise I’m still around. I’ve been trying to set up a queue that will actually last for more than a day or two at a time to keep this blog active.
I’ve been put on almost full bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy because my children think it’s a good idea to try to come more than 9 weeks early. Spoiler alert - it’s not a good idea.
I’m trying to get back into writing while I’m unable to do anything else besides sit (lay, mostly) around and get kicked in my organs.
I’m really, really trying, y’all. I want to write again. I miss the escape of it so much. I miss disappearing into a world I created. I miss hearing from y’all and interacting with you.
Side note - payments on my patreon page have been frozen until further notice. If you were a subscriber to my patreon, you will not be charged from here on out, because I’m not able to provide content for you the way I should be. I’m so sorry.
[long post inbound - I’ll put most of it below a cut]
You lose your name. You become “Mama” to the world around you, to family, to friends. You are no longer you. You are your children’s mother. You are your belly.
Your body is no longer yours. You are a home for the life you are growing. I have literally been called a vessel for these children.
You’re forced to watch yourself change almost every day. Your face changes, your hair changes, and your body? Your body is changing more permanently than anything else. The stretch marks will fade, but they’ll never disappear. You’ll be forever left with scars and reminders of the time you spent carrying your child, feeling the kicks and somersaults, wishing they’d punch you anywhere other than your bladder but still being so thankful that they’re letting you know they’re okay.
You’re not allowed to complain. I mean, you are, but not without being called ungrateful or hearing some form of “just wait, it gets worse.”
You’ll get advice and opinions from every angle, about everything, whether you asked for it or not. It’s always “well, I never did that” or “we didn’t worry about that and my kids turned out fine.” When you’ve waited and tried for as long as I have to be able to be pregnant, it doesn’t matter what anyone else did or didn’t do. What matters is the advice my doctor gives me to keep myself and my children safe and healthy. The absolute last thing I’ll do is anything to put these babies at risk.
You think about things you’ve never even considered before. Will I be able to keep up with my life as it stands before I give birth? Will I be able to figure out my new work/life balance? Will my friends continue to invite me to parties, BBQs, restaurants? Don’t put childish curtain on the nursery windows; child predators will be able to spot the kids’ rooms from the outside. Get window blinds without cords so the baby doesn’t strangle themselves in the middle of the night.
You’re lost in a whirlwind of never feeling like you’ll be enough after you have the baby. Will my partner still love me, even though I’ll never be the same, mentally or physically, or will he leave me for someone else? Someone who embodies the person I used to be?
You won’t sleep. You’ll be lying awake, riddled with thoughts like these. Whether you can’t quite fall asleep or you wake up early in the morning and it’s how you start your day, you’ll lie in bed with your face in a pillow to muffle the sniffles and sobs while you rack your brain trying to figure it all out.
You won’t figure it out - not while you’re pregnant anyway. You’ll find a spark of hope that one day, somewhere along the lines, you’ll figure it all out. You’ll learn something new every minute of every day. You’ll learn how to be a parent, a refreshed version of a partner in your relationship, a human existing while literally just doing what you need to do to keep your child alive. It might not click right away, and it will not always be easy, but you will get it.
You’ll cry. You’ll cry a lot. But you’ll laugh a lot too. You’ll laugh and you’ll smile and you’ll be excited for the adventure waiting for you with the promise of every new day.
Possibly some very triggering content below the cut. I’m sorry.
Do not continue reading if you are affected by: pregnancy, pregnancy problems, loss of a child, termination of a pregnancy (for purely medical reasons)
You all might remember me posting about my brother having a baby. And the fact that things weren’t quite right with the baby. A lot has happened since I posted that.
I’ve fallen in love with the little boy growing inside of my brother’s girlfriend. I’ve seen his face on an ultrasound and he looks just like my brother. He has a name. He’s a tiny little person.
We found out right before Thanksgiving that something was going on with his brain. They spent all day yesterday at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia for testing. The results were not good.
The baby’s brain is all there, but it’s disintegrating and all mushed together because there’s fluid in his head that just keeps reproducing itself. His brain stopped developing really early on and it’s not separated into lobes or sections like it should be. Because of the fluid, his head is measuring bigger than it should be (she’s 22 weeks and 3 days, he’s measuring at 24 weeks), and to carry to full term would put his life and her life at risk and possibly make her unable to have kids for the rest of her life. If she would carry to full term and deliver him, he likely wouldn’t survive the birthing process, and if he did, he would feel all the pressure and pain in his head. He wouldn’t be able to swallow because he doesn’t really have a bottom jaw. His ears are low, basically sitting on his neck, also because he doesn’t have the jaw. He’d spend his whole life on breathing and feeding tubes if they chose to keep him alive.
In Pennsylvania, it’s illegal to terminate a pregnancy after 23 weeks and 6 days. They’ve basically already made the decision to terminate the pregnancy because the life the baby will live will be one of suffering and pain. She’s 22 weeks and 3 days pregnant. The baby will be gone in a week.
This is my nephew, Maverick Daniel, who will never be born into this world, and who already has a huge spot in my heart.
It’s no one’s business when a couple is having children, and it’s really fucking damaging to continually remind them that they haven’t gotten pregnant yet.
I don’t know if y’all are the praying type or positive vibers or what, but whatever you do, please, please, send some of that in the direction of my family. I’m putting some rather triggering stuff below the cut; please don’t read if you are upset by pregnancy, pregnancy problems, potential loss of a child (born or unborn).
My brother’s girlfriend is five months pregnant. She went in for a check up and ultrasounds yesterday and posted a pretty ominous status on facebook that said “please pray for Maverick!” (That’s the baby’s name.) I texted my mom and asked if the baby was okay, and she said she’d call me when they got home.
She called me and told me that the baby is missing over half of his brain. His chin is essentially nonexistent and he has a facial deformity so bad that if he stops breathing once he’s born, they won’t be able to resuscitate him. If he makes it through the birth and the cleaning and the check up and all of that, they told us he’s only going to live for a year, at the most.
Taylor (my brother’s girlfriend - I know, it’s weird for me too) is going for a second opinion at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia on December 4th, and obviously we’re all hoping and praying for the best, but we know how bleak the outcome might be. Please, please, please pray or toss out some good vibes or energy or whatever it is that you do and believe. We just had the gender reveal party for this baby four days ago, and now we’re all coping with the news that the baby might not live. We’re all super emotional and I’m doing my damndest to stay strong for my brother and his girlfriend, but it’s hard when an innocent baby is involved.
If anyone is interested, I will try to continue posting updates under the tag #Baby Maverick. Thank you, and I appreciate you all <3
What would happen if..Sam found your pregnancy test after you getting hurt on a hunt?
Our Baby
“What is this?” Sam rushed into your shared bedroom, where you’d been laid up for the past few hours. You, Sam, and Dean had returned from the hunt, all pretty banged up, but you were the worst by far. You were lucky you’d gotten out of there alive. “Y/N. What. Is. This?” He pushed his open palm in front of your face.
“Shit.” You groaned as you shifted and pushed yourself up against the headboard. “You weren’t supposed to find that. What were you doing in my old bathroom anyway?”
“I went to see if - you know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter why I was in there. What matters is - is this is positive, Y/N. You’re pregnant?” Sam sat beside your thighs and leaned, his hand resting on the opposite side of your other leg. You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, resting it against the wood behind you, nodding slowly. “You - you’re pregnant. We’re having a baby.” Sam’s eyes widened as he stared at nothing. “Shit! We need to get you to the hospital! What if something happened on the hunt?” He pushed his hands under you and lifted you against his chest, one arm under your back and the other under your knees.
“Sam, relax.” You deadpanned. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. Put me down.”
“You’re going to the hospital. We need to make sure the baby is okay.” He carried you toward the garage, intent on loading you into the car.
“No, you’re not hearing me. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I - I wasn’t planning on having the kid anyway. That’s why you weren’t supposed to see the test, not because I didn’t want you to know, but because you didn’t need to know. I know you don’t want to bring a kid into this world, Sammy. I’ve made my peace with it. No kids, no marriage, no escape.” You forced a smile.
“Y/N...” He sat you in the passenger seat of the Impala and knelt beside the car, one hand on your knee and the other holding your face. “I - I’ve made it way farther in this life than I ever expected to - way farther than I was supposed to, probably - and the life I have with you is one I want to keep living. If that means kids, then we’re gonna have kids. Marriage is... gonna be tricky since I’m supposed to be dead and all.” He chuckled and you shook your head, trying to hide a smile.
“So you want to do this?” You laid your hand over his on your leg.
“I want to do this with you.” He leaned up and kissed you, then walked over and got in the car. Turning the key in the ignition, he reached over and took your hand. “Let’s go make sure our baby is okay.”
What would happen if ... you had a threesome with sam and dean then had to tell them you're pregnant
Fifty-Fifty Shot
Pacing back and forth, you held the positive pregnancy test in your hand, staring at it like it was the end of your world. And maybe... it was. You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. What the hell were you doing? How could you let this happen? Why, of all days, was that the day you’d forgotten to take your birth control? With a sigh, you slowly walked from the bathroom down the hallway and took a deep breath.
“Sam? Dean?” You peeked your head around the corner of the doorway, looking into the library and finding the Winchesters exactly the way you’d left them when you decided to go to the drug store.
“What’s up?” Sam smiled at you over his book, then his face scrunched up when he saw your red, splotchy face. “Everything okay?” He stood and started making his way to you. His hands fell onto your shoulders and he pulled you into a hug as Dean continued flipping through a book.
“You really might want to sit down again.” You mumbled, pulling yourself out of Sam’s embrace. As he sank back into his chair, he and Dean looked at you, worried expressions contorting each of their faces. “Guys, um, you - you remember when we agreed that - that maybe that thing we did should never be mentioned again? How it was just a - a one time thing because we were all really, really drunk?” You looked at your feet, eyes flicking up to look at Sam and Dean briefly as they looked on with confusion. “You remember?” You waited for them to nod. “Well... I don’t really think we can avoid talking about it anymore. I - I’m pregnant.” You pulled the test from your back pocket and held it out for them to see the two blue lines.
“Oh, perfect.” Dean grumbled and rolled his eyes. Sam’s mouth hung agape as he searched for words, but there were none.
You and Sam had been together for almost four years, and you’d never talked about starting a family, but now that there was a very real chance that you might be pregnant with his brother’s kid, Sam wanted nothing more than to be the father of the child growing inside you. He shoved his hands against the edge of the table and pushed himself backward, standing up and walking toward you.
“Sam, I-” You started, but stopped when he stormed past you.
“He’s mad it’s not his.” Dean offered, nose in the middle of an old, dusty book once again.
“I never said it wasn’t his, Dean.” You felt your heart start beating faster as you grew angry with the older Winchester. “It’s - it could be his... right?” Tears pooled in your eyes and you tried to stop the quiver in your bottom lip.
“Well, put it to ya this way, he’s got a fifty-fifty shot. No matter whose it is, congratulations, princess.” Dean shot you a wink and brushed by you as he went to console Sam.
Standing in the library alone, you fell to your knees and let the crying take over. As you sat on the cold floor and your tears fell onto your legs, you thought about the very real possibility that this wasn’t Sam’s baby. What the hell were you doing to do? Would he leave you? Would you be left with Dean, or would Dean go to? Were you about to become a single mother? Your thoughts overwhelmed you, buzzed around your head, drowned out what was actually happening. You didn’t hear Sam shuffle back into the room or walk over to where you’d crumbled.
“Get up, come here.” Sam scooped you into his arms and held you tight to his chest. “It doesn’t matter whose it is. I still love you.” He kissed your forehead and smoothed your hair down your back. “And besides, we’ve got a fifty-fifty shot.”
What Would Happen… - CLOSED - [WWH Drabble Masterlist]
We are 9 DPO, and I think I may be experiencing implantation bleeding.
Pinky-brown spotting, almost looked like a rust color. I’m afraid to be excited. I don’t want to get my hopes up and be let down, because I want this so, so badly.
