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Age 31


Mother, I am going to be a mother and I do not know how to be a mother. What kind of mother will I be? How do I discipline my child? Do I discipline my child at all or leave it up to Logan? I would not want to break his or her spirit completely. I believe every child should know a certain amount of discipline but should also be allowed to express his or herself as long as they do not pose too much of a threat to anyone else or inflict serious harm on themselves. I guess that I talked myself out of one fear but what about al the others. They were handled, with grace, moodiness, and all that is expected from a pregnant woman.

The first trimester:

The initial shock of finding out that I was pregnant faded and that just left telling Logan. I was not quite sure on how to tell him. Maybe I should let him sniff it out. I am sure that he does not currently know. I figured it was best to tell him over dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. It helps that he likes the place too. That night we went to the city just for a change of pace.

“So, snowflake, are ya gonna tell me why ya dragged me to the city?”

“I though you liked the city.”

“I do darlin’ but it obvious that something is bothering ya. So what is it?”

“There is something that I must tell you.”

“What? Let me guess. Umm…you are pregnant?”

“Actually, yes that is it.”

“Ya don’t say!”

“You knew? How could you know and not say anything?”

“Wasn’t easy darlin’. I wanted to wait until you told me in your own way. I’ve been sitting on this for a while and I thought I was gonna bust before ya told me. I wanted to scream to everyone, “’She’s having my kid! Mine!’”

“Very possessive, are we not?”

“You know it darlin, even more so now, you’re having our kid.”

He started to chant, “she’s having my kid, having my baby” in his head but she knew he was really ecstatic when he started to tap a beat on the table. She could suppress her smile, but she had to suppress that sound because it was drawing attention to them.

“Relax, love. This will not be our last.”

“Are kiddin’ me? Of course it ain’t gonna be our last!”

***

The ride home was one not filled with silence.

“So, if it’s a girl what do ya wanna name her? How about if it’s a boy? Is the crib in our room? What if the kid is a mutant like us? What if one of my enemies comes after my family?”

His questions went from mild to spicy in seconds and his anger at the last question caused him to grip the wheel a little tighter. Ororo placed her hand over his, as she did in the restaurant.

“Dearest, as far as names go, they can wait, we have time. That also goes for where we will set up a nursery. We know that our child has a great chance of being a mutant because we both possess the X-gene, but there is the chance that they will not be, either way, it does not change our feelings about our child or children, ever. As far as enemies,” she exhaled a deep breath “both you and I have accumulated a series unwanted admirers, many unwanted admirers, but I think that you and I and a home full of aunts and uncles can deal with that problem.”

“Seriously, ‘Ro. We can barely handle it when we are kidnapped. That Zero Tolerance shit was fuckin’ ridiculous! If I ever get my hands on Bastion, I will open my claws in his ass and laugh while I’m doin’ it!”

“Back on topic, please. And, yes, I know what you mean. We are often in tight spots and I wonder if it is fair that I should bring a child into this world. But then I think that if I wait too long, then that time will have come and gone and I shall never know the happiness that I already feel. We cannot wait for others, Logan. We are to live life now and not wait.”

***

Because the first trimester is the most crucial, Ororo stopped going on missions, so that meant that she would have to find things to keep her busy. In the beginning it was easy. She would prepare the medlab just incase those who went on the missions needed it. Every instrument was sterilized. By the second trimester it got to the point where she’d sterilize the entire room from top to bottom, left to right, under, over, and in between.

Ororo spent hours working on her garden until the weather started to get hotter. She never had to deal with a change in body temperature because controlling the weather kept her naturally regulated. She hasn’t really felt the heat or the cold since she was a child, before she became the weather-toting goddess; she only played the part for the public by wearing coats and such apparel. Where she used to take solace in leaning over a flowerbed to work, she now dreaded the thought of falling down and not being able to get back up.

Well, since she had the time Ororo figured she’d take up something new like art. At night while she laid in bed waiting for Logan to return, she’d place the 18X24 sketchpad as high on her lap as she could get it without straining to reach over her still forming stomach. She’d start with a basic shape, something simple like a circle or a square.

“Piece of cake” she said triumphantly. “Screw this, I think I am ready for portraits.”

Following the standard outline for drawing a face, she attempted to draw Logan from memory since he was not by her side. Her tongue peeping form the corner of her mouth was a sign that she was in sheer concentration. When Logan returned to their room to go to bed he could smell the pencil shavings and the well-used eraser.

“What’cha doodlin’ now, ‘Ro?”

“A portrait of you actually. Wanna see?”

“Sure, darlin’” It took one look at it before he was on the floor.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA…” His thunderous laughter caused her to stare at him, but not with a look of amusement. There was no way she was going to join in on his unending fit. She then did the one thing that even he rarely seen her do.

“What the hell?!” he thought.

“’Ro, stop that.” One tear…

“I didn’t mean…” Few more tears…

“I was just…” And army of salty soldiers marched down her face at rapid speed.

“Don’t touch me you insensitive bastard! I don’t care if I ever see you again. Get the fuck out!” Trying to comfort her was not an option.

He reached for a pillow but instead a lightning bolt reached it first. “Just Go!” she said through clenched teeth.

”Damn mood swings. She must really be po’d if she’s usin’ contractions and swearing. Damn what’d I do? Maybe Gumbo’s still up. That’s his sister. I ain’t doin’ this alone.”

Searching for Gambit wasn’t a problem. He just followed the direction of those funny French cigarettes he imports.

“T’ought you were goin’ t’ bed, homme?”

“Me too until “Ro tried t’ fry me!”

“Pregnant women be crazy, homme, but what ever y’ did, don’ bring Remy inta it. I jus’ got back in chere’s good graces ‘gain.”

“Y’ know Gumbo, I still don’ know what y’ did.”

“Well, I was on da roof and Stormy heard some noises…”

“Stop right there. I don’ wanna know anymore than that!”

“Yeah, whateva, homme. Where you gonn’ sleep t’night?”

“My old room.”

About 2am, after he had gone to bed he was visited by his wife. He had expected her to come see him eventually. He was expecting her to snuggle under him, but what he did not expect was to be drowned by a storm cloud over his head.

“What the flamin’ hell?”

“I waited for you to come back and you left me up there all alone. I thought that maybe you ran away again.” She was torn to tears again and he hated to see her cry.

He was now fully awake and looked much like a drowned rat. He took off his wet shirt and embraced Ororo. No more words were needed because if he did say something chances are it would have been the wrong thing. He couldn’t say, “But, you told me t’ go away! You called me an insensitive bastard!” Saying either of those things would have resulted in him being a human conductor.


***

The third trimester was about as turbulent as the second but more so. I was hungry all the time. I do not think I ever left the kitchen except to sleep and to go on that mandatory walk Hank instructed. He said that it was good if I went for walks, but not for too long or too far. What business did o have walking? I felt like roast ready to go **pop**. A roast actually sounded good at the time. That is another thing that set off changes. That baby turned me into a carnivore again. I made a conscious effort to fully convert to vegetarianism, but the baby wanted steak! This was definitely Logan’s child. There was no getting around it. There were times I thought my body would start to hurl itself involuntarily because the baby’s movements were sporadic. This baby had his strength already and would not let me sleep.

Nights were wasted tossing and turning. I paced the bedroom, I was reluctant to fly at that point, but I did take full advantage of the hot tub. The hot tub usually put me to sleep. Logan often stuck around often to make sure that I did not drown myself. What a morbid thought and a horrible way to go. Oh well.

Time was drawing near and I was just a few weeks away from having my body back. I do not think that I have ever really been vain but I would like to have my body back to where I could see my feet again. I have considered being absolutely honest within the confines of this journal, but if anyone should ever read this passage, I would be mortified.

My water broke two days before I went into labor. There is a reason why I did not notice, it was because I had to go to the bathroom for the millionth time and this time around, I strained when I should not have. If taking a shit while pregnant were easy at this point, it would not have happened.

My water broke on a Tuesday, I gave birth on a Thursday. There is not much to tell because I believe I passed out at one point. I remember Hank yelling at me too push. I vaguely remember the smell of burnt hair. The next day hank looked like a blue naked cats. I remember grabbing Logan by his throat and threatening to electrocute every ounce of sperm in is body. I think I passed out after that, but I awoke to the sound of a screaming child. The sound was both incredibly beautiful and incredibly unnerving, but it was the sound of our child, out first child.





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