Genre: fluff, established relationship, soft angst, comfort
Description: You notice small, quiet changes in your body and mood before finally staring down at a positive pregnancy test late one night. When you share the news with Jaafar, the two of you figure out how much your life is changing through soft, honest, and quiet moments together.
The first thing that tipped me off wasnāt morning sickness. It was a stupid commercial for some cereal I donāt even eat. I was sitting on our couch, half-watching TV while scrolling through my phone, and suddenly my eyes were burning.
Tears were just rolling down my face because the little cartoon bear in the ad looked lonely. I wiped my face quickly, hoping Jaafar wouldnāt look up from his laptop. He did, of course. Heās always been observant like that not in a loud or intrusive way, just a quiet tracking of where I am in a room.
"Yeah. Just tired," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. And I was tired. A heavy, bone-deep exhaustion that didnāt go away no matter how early I went to sleep. Over the next week, it got worse.
The smell of the coffee Jaafar brewed every morningāa smell I usually loved.. suddenly made my stomach do a violent flip. I started skipping breakfast, blaming it on some weird, passing bug. I told myself my period was just late because of a messed-up cycle. I was in complete denial.
One night, we were brushing our teeth together in the bathroom. The house was quiet, just the soft sound of water running. I was staring at myself in the mirror, feeling completely drained, when I felt Jaafarās hand rest gently on the small of my back.
He spat out his toothpaste, rinsed, and looked at me through the glass. "Hey," he murmured, turning his body toward me. "Youāve been really quiet lately. And you barely touched dinner. Is everything okay?"
My heart did a weird, nervous flutter. "Yeah, just a weird stomach bug, I think. Or a late period making me hormonal."
Jaafar studied my face for a long second, his thumb doing a slow, comforting sweep against my lower back. He didnāt push, but his eyes were full of a quiet concern. "Okay. Just tell me if you need anything, alright? Go get into bed"
"Okay," I whispered, kissing his jaw before slipping out.
But I didn't go to sleep. Two hours later, while Jaafar was out in the living room watching tv, I found myself sitting on the closed toilet lid. The bathroom door was locked. In my hand was a plastic stick Iād bought at the pharmacy, hidden at the bottom of my bag.
I sat there in the dim light for three minutes. When I finally forced myself to look down, my breath hitched.
The world went completely silent. I just stared at it. I couldnāt blink. My mind raced with a million thoughts at once *we arenāt ready, how are we going to do this, what if Iām a terrible mother?* but at the same time, my hands started shaking with a strange, overwhelming rush of warmth. I sat on that floor for what felt like an eternity, just trying to breathe.
I stood up, my knees feeling like jelly. I opened the door and walked out into the living room. Jaafar was sitting on the couch, the soft glow of the TV illuminating his face. When he saw my expression, he immediately grabbed the remote, muted the screen, and stood right up.
I didn't say anything. I just walked over and handed him the stick.
Jaafar looked down at it. The room was completely still. For a few seconds, he didnāt move a muscle. He just stared at the tiny window on the plastic.
"Is this..." His voice trailed off, rough and uncertain. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and unreadable, then back down at the test.
"Yeah," I choked out, a single tear slipping down my cheek. "I'm serious."
He didnāt yell, or jump up, or break into a massive cinematic smile. Instead, he just went incredibly quiet. His chest rose and fell in a slow, deep breath. He set the test down on the table with a slightly trembling hand, then stepped forward and pulled me against his chest.
He held me tight, one hand burying into the back of my hair, pressing my face into his shoulder. I could hear his heart hammering against his ribs. He kept shifting his grip, touching my back, my shoulders, like he was grounding himself in the reality that I was right there.
"Are you okay?" he whispered into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. That was his first instinct. Not āwhat are we going to doā, but āare you okayā.
"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice cracking as I gripped his t-shirt.
"Me too," he murmured honestly, kissing the side of my head. "Me too. But weāre okay. Weāre gonna be okay."
The weeks that followed were a blur of slow adjustment. The reality of it didn't hit us all at once; it came in tiny, domestic shifts.
The morning sickness got brutal. There were mornings where Iād barely make it to the bathroom, collapsing over the toilet bowl. Without fail, within seconds, Jaafar would be there. Heād sit on the floor right next to me, pull my hair back out of my face, and rub my back in slow, steady circles. He just stayed there holding a cold washcloth to the back of my neck until the waves passed.
Our grocery lists changed. Suddenly, our fridge was stocked with random things I normally never ate. One night at 11:30 PM, I woke up with an intense, burning craving for salt and vinegar chips and vanilla ice cream. I sat up in bed, sighing heavily, trying to talk myself out of it. Jaafar stirred next to me, his eyes blinking open sleepily. "What's wrong? You feel nauseous ?"
"No," I mumbled, feeling guilty. "Just... really want chips. And ice cream. It's fine, go back to sleep."
He didn't even hesitate. He threw off the covers, stretching his arms over his head. "Salt and vinegar?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes," he said, pulling on a hoodie. He didn't complain once. He just did it because he loved me, and because this was our new normal.
But it wasn't all easy. The stress of the upcoming changes started to weigh on us, leading to a small, tense argument one evening while we were trying to clear out the spare room to make space for a crib. I was holding a box of old books, feeling completely overwhelmed by how fast our lives were shifting and how much my lower back ached.
"We need to get rid of this desk," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "There's no room for it anymore."
Jaafar stopped taping a box. "We can just move the desk to the living room, Y/N. There's plenty of space out there, we don't need to throw it out."
"It's just too much stuff, Jaafar!" I dropped the box onto the floor with a loud thud, my eyes immediately filling with hot, angry tears. "Everything is changing so fast and youāre acting like itās just another day. You're so calm it makes me feel like I'm completely losing my mind alone in this."
Jaafar blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst. He looked at the box on the floor, then up at my face, noticing the tears right away. He took a slow breath, letting any defensiveness drop from his shoulders. He walked across the room, stepping over the boxes, and stood right in front of me.
"I'm not trying to make you feel alone," he said softly, his voice gentle as his eyes searched mine. "I know everything is changing. If I'm quiet, it's just because I'm trying to be steady for you. I don't want to add my own anxiety onto what you're already going through."
I looked away, a sob bubbling up in my throat. "I'm just scared, Jaaf. I'm so scared. What if I can't do this? What if I'm a horrible mom? I don't know anything about babies."
He reached out, his warm hands cupping my face, forcing me to look up at him. "Look at me," he murmured. "You are going to be an amazing mother. You're patient, you're kind, and you're already taking care of this kid. And you're not doing it alone. Weāre doing it together. If you mess up, Iām right there to catch you. If I mess up, you catch me."
The anger melted out of me, replaced by a quiet, relief-filled ache. I leaned into his touch, nodding weakly. "Okay. Sorry I snapped."
"Don't worry about it," he smiled faintly, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "Come here." He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly against him until my breathing leveled out.
A few weeks later, we had our first major ultrasound appointment. Sitting in the cold clinic room, the gel on my stomach felt freezing. Jaafar was sitting in the chair right next to the bed, his fingers tightly intertwined with mine. He hadn't stopped holding my hand since we walked into the building.
The technician moved the wand over my skin, and suddenly, a rhythmic, rapid sound filled the room.
*Thump-thump-thump-thump.*
I looked over at Jaafar. His head was turned toward the monitor, his mouth slightly open. The usual cool, reserved expression he wore to the outside world completely shattered. His eyes were incredibly bright, shimmering with unshed tears as he stared at the little gray blob on the screen. He squeezed my hand so tightly it almost hurt, but I didn't care.
"That's the heartbeat," the technician smiled.
Jaafar swallowed hard, a tiny, breathless laugh escaping his lips. He looked down at me, his face full of a raw, fierce wonder. He didn't say anythingāhe didn't need to. The look in his eyes told me everything. This was real. We were making a person.
That night, we were lying on the couch. A random movie was playing on the TV, but neither of us was watching it. I was lying back against the cushions, and Jaafar was lying with his head shifted down, resting near my waist. My bump was barely visible yetājust a slight, firm curve beneath my sweatpantsābut it changed everything about how we moved around each other.
I felt my eyelids getting heavy, drifting off into that hazy space right before sleep. I kept my eyes closed, my breathing slow and even.
Jaafar shifted slightly. I felt the warm palm of his hand rest flat against my stomach, his touch incredibly gentle, like he was afraid he might break something.
"Hey little one," he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost a breath. It was a tone he only used when he thought I couldn't hear him.. completely stripped of any guard, soft and deeply tender. "It's your dad. Just wanted to say hi. Your mom's sleeping right now because you're making her really tired, but she's doing great. We can't wait to meet you. I'm gonna take care of both of you, I promise."
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against my sweatpants, over my stomach, and then shifted his head back up to rest against my ribs, his hand staying right where it was.
I kept my eyes closed, a tear slipping sideways into my hair, a profound sense of safety washing over me. We still had months to go, and I was still terrified of the unknown, but listening to the quiet rise and fall of Jaafar's breathing against me, I knew we were going to be just fine.
