#melpregsummer

The water is running, and the sink is filling with bubbles. The scent of soap fills the air, the smell of apples transcends the space, transforming the kitchen into an apple orchard.

Mel stands at the sink, her hands ready at the counter, her hair in its signature braid. Her body is extended from the sink because of her round, distended belly. A pool of sweat forms on the nape of her neck before slowly leaking down the back of her night gown. At this point in the pregnancy, it’s all she can seem to fit into.

Mel is officially past her due date as of last week, 9 months pregnant and counting. She is quite literally ready to pop, and she is feeling it. Frank had suggested getting induced, but Mel wanted the baby to come naturally when she felt like it. She didn’t want the baby to come into the world forcibly; she wanted her here when she was ready to be.

Being pregnant in the middle of July was no easy feat. She’s hot all the time, and tired, and hungry, and angry, and emotional, but most of all excited.

Her feet feel as though they might give out from under her. Standing on them for more than a few minutes at a time these days seems like hard work. The increasing discomfort of pregnancy is a sensory nightmare, and sometimes it is all she can do to stay in her growing body.

While pregnancy has been a trying experience, overstimulated and overwhelmed, it has also been an entirely rewarding one. Seeing what her body can do, what she can go through, and still come out the other side.

The first trimester had been full of nausea and vomiting, which meant spending most of her time curled up against the toilet or a trash can. But with the onset of the second trimester, the nausea passed, and she was finally able to enjoy herself. Now, in the past couple of weeks, as she neared her due date, the back aches and the foot pain had gotten worse as her body fought desperately to house the growing fetus in her womb. She was ready for her baby to come now more than ever.

It's time, little one, don’t you know your mommy’s ready to meet you…and your daddy too. She spoke down to her belly in a sing song voice.

Although she was very pregnant and uncomfortable, she hated staying in bed all the time. Frank had put her on bed rest some weeks ago after some mild foot swelling and a brief preeclampsia scare. She had started her pregnancy leave a few weeks ago when it became less and less easy to stand on her feet for hours on end, and when her growing stomach had become a safety risk for herself and others after accidentally tipping over a couple procedure trays. She missed work already and she could only manage to sneak out of bed while Frank put Tanner and Penny to sleep.

So that’s what she was doing, getting back some of her independence, trying to wash the dishes before Frank came in to scald her and walk her back to bed.

Frank had made spaghetti for supper, a favorite of his to make—or in all honesty—one of the only things he knew how to make. Mel was no chef, but she had more than a couple of recipes up her sleeve from her mom. It was times like these that she thought about her mother, about how much she missed her. She sometimes wondered if she would be able to be a great mother without the guidance of her own, if she knew how to do this whole motherhood thing. But Frank had assured her that she was more than capable of being a fantastic mom to their daughter and bonus mom to Tanner and Penny.

She loved Frank’s kids so much already that she thought of them as her own. When she had met them for the first time, what felt like ages ago, she had fallen in love instantly with Penny’s sweet smile and big blue eyes, just like Frank’s, and Tanner's energetic personality, and kind compassion also very reminiscent of Frank.

She loved Frank so much, and especially how he stepped up as the sole provider this last month of her pregnancy. Cooking her dinner and going on late night runs to the store to buy her more of her pregnancy cravings. Peppering her belly with kisses and talking sweetly to the baby before tucking her in at night. Watching her mindlessly in adoration as she tried to tie her shoes, knowing not to jump in too soon, because she wanted to do it herself. She adored the way he was always ready to jump any time she asked for anything. She found it so endearing how he did almost everything for her, while she lay in bed in quiet agony.

But tonight was different, tonight she was dead set on getting these dishes done. It was only four plates and forks, a pot, and a pan; she can do this, it’s easy. Mel stands bent over the sink, her toes curling under her as her weight comes to rest heavily on the balls of her feet. She tries shifting from foot to foot, redistributing her weight. She washes the dishes slowly, allowing the soapy water time to prune her hands.

“Mel, baby, what are you doing?” Frank comes traipsing into the kitchen, with a cup of water in hand.

Mel continues doing dishes at the sink, expecting the lecture that’s coming next.

“I’m washing the dishes.” She says meekly, wincing is pain.

“Why? Go lie down. I've got this. You need to rest. This baby could come any day now and I don’t need you preeclamptic.” Frank instructs, coming up behind Mel, placing the glass on the counter before removing the sponge from her hand.

Mel turns around on her heel, so she is facing Frank. Her eyes shooting up to meet his. “I’m sick of resting, Frank! I’ve been resting for weeks. I want to do something; I want to feel like a person outside of my pregnancy!” She pauses, allowing herself to collect her emotions. “I want to wash the dishes.” She places her hands on the bottom of her belly, suddenly feeling very out of breath and feeling the baby shift its body inside her.

Frank places his hands on both sides of her face, running his thumbs over her cheeks, “Hey, baby, it's ok. Carrying a baby for 9 months is hard, and I know you're feeling a loss of independence, but I just want you to be healthy—” Frank pauses placing his hands on Mel’s belly, feeling the baby kick. “—and I want our little girl to be healthy… wait here.” Frank runs to the living room and grabs his phone off of its charger and runs back to the kitchen.

“Where would I go, Frank? I can barely move.” Mel says a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Look, come here.” Frank offers Mel his outstretched arm, and she grabs his hand and bicep, squeezing lightly, allowing Frank to take on some of the weight she is carrying.

She waddles across the hardwood as he walks her to the open space between their kitchen and dining room. Frank steps away from her, picking up his phone and turning the volume all the way up. Classical piano starts playing from the speaker on his phone.

It’s their song, Liebestraum No. 3 in A-Flat, by Franz Listz, which translated from German literally means Dream of Love. The song they played during their first dance.

They were overjoyed when they found out they were pregnant only a couple of months after they finally got married. Everyone at the hospital was shocked to find out they were expecting so soon, but they had always wanted it to happen this way. Mel was eager to start a family of her own, and Frank was happy to expand his.

“Dance with me.” Frank takes Mel’s hands in his, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her forehead.

He spins her around slowly—because she doesn’t move very fast these days—and gently cradles her baby bump while he rests his head on her shoulder. They sway gently to the ballad; their bodies lost in the rhythm.

“Did you get the kids to sleep?” Mel asks, her eyes closed, letting her body lay back against her husband.

“Yes, they were both asking for you.” A smile spreads across Frank’s mouth.

“I’ll go in and give them kisses before we go to bed.” Mel hums into the comfort of Frank’s arms.

“I told them you were tired and needed your rest.”

She knows Frank means nothing of it, he doesn’t want the kids to bother her when she doesn’t feel up to it, but the thing is, she wants to tell them goodnight and tuck them in, sing them nursery rhymes until they drift to sleep.

“I am tired, but I don’t want to be. I want to be able to do the things I used to do.” Mel’s eyes begin to water. “…and I know once I'm not pregnant anymore, I'm really going to miss this time, but right now I’m—I’m just ready to meet her.” Mel places both of her hands over Franks, where he holds her belly, rubbing in slow circles.

“Me too.” He kisses the side of her face, slow, letting his lips linger on her. “It won’t be much longer now.”

They continue to rock back and forth, the soft sound of the piano filling the room.

“I want to try something that I saw online the other day.” Frank whispers into Mel’s ear.

“Frank, if this is something sexual, I’m really not in the mood.”

“It’s not. What kind of man do you think I am, Melissa King-Langdon?”

God, she’ll never get sick of hearing that.

“The kind that likes to have sex with me.” She lets a smile creep across her lips.

“Well, that is true. But this was about giving pregnant people some relief.” As the words leave his mouth he begins to gently lift Mel’s stomach.

She lets out a relieved sigh, her body relaxing into Franks hold. He stands like that holding her belly in his hands, allowing some of the weight she is carrying to transfer to him.

“It takes downward pressure off of your pelvis and spine, and it’s supposed to ease back pain.”

“Oh, Frank, this feels great.”

For the first time in months she feels real relief, a literal weight lifted. She knows it’s silly, but she could cry actual tears at how amazing it feels to not have the heaviness of her full stomach weighing her down.

“I’m glad it’s working. They say you can take 10-15 pounds of weight off.” He covers her freckled shoulder in delicate kisses.

“Is this hurting your back?” Mel asks, suddenly pulled from the meditative state she was held in.

“I’m ok. I just want to make you feel better.”

“Do you know how much I love you Frank King-Langdon?”

“Hm, I’m not sure. How about you tell me?”

This is nice, one of their last moments together, just the two of them, before the baby is born and life becomes a hectic juggling of dippers, bottles, and binkies.

“I love you to the moon and back, and from the stars across the galaxy, and I love you as much as Alexander Hamilton loved writing and—"

Mel continues reciting how much she loves Frank. And Frank continues to kiss Mel and hold the weight of their baby in his hands. They stay like this wrapped in each other’s bodies, the low light from the dying day painting them in soft golden hues, for some time. They are happy because they have each other, they are happy because they get to have each other. They are happy because soon they will have much more than just each other, they will have a growing family and full hearts.

When the night finally comes to an end, Mel kisses Tanner and Penny’s heads and makes sure they are tucked in tight while Frank finishes the dishes. And when they finally make it to their own bed, she gives Frank a back rub because in taking the weight off her back he had to carry it himself. But isn’t that the beauty of it? He is always willing to carry the weight of her suffering, no matter how heavy.