Generation 1-Chapter 7

 "Jules!" I called Julie out. She looked up at me and smiled. "You know what today is?"

"No, Mommeyy," she said. I smiled back at her and gently picked her up.

"It's your birthday!" I told her, tickling her. "You're one today!"

"That goes for you too, Baby Girl," Ryan told Layla.

"Are you girls ready?" I asked them.

"YES!" they giggled.

"If you're not ready, the cookie monster will get you!" Ryan said, laughing.

"No, Daddey. The tooktie-monster eats tookties!" Layla told him.

 As it seems, Julie inherited Ryan's hair color, and facial structure. But she also got my eyes. It's so unreal as to how much she looks like the both of us, nearly the perfect blend.

Layla, on the other hand, had black hair. I honestly have no clue as to where that came from, but I'm guessing it was from a past relative. She inherited Ryan's lovely eye color and more of a mix of our facial structures.

We gave them strawberry cake-flavored baby food, since they cannot yet eat solid foods. But they seemed to be enjoying it. What they didn't know was, they'd have to be eating baby food more often. It was time for the bottles to go! ....I might hold off a little while on taking the pacifiers away from them though. They get cranky when they're tired.

"So what does the most beautiful woman in the world think we should do today?" Ryan asked. I kissed him.

"Oh, I don't know. What does the most handsome man in the world think we should do today?" I countered.

"I think. . . ." he broke off.

"I think," he started again, "marry me?"

"Oh my. Ry ar-"

"Jen, I've had nearly two years to think about this. I want nothing more than this. We've been with each other through thick and thin, and I know I love you. You're the perfect mother, a perfect girlfriend, a perfect roommate, the perfect intelligent woman and I'm pretty darn sure you'll be the perfect wife. Marry me?" I smiled.

"Of course I'll marry you, Ry," I told him.

"Just for you," he said.

 "Oh my! I love it!" I exclaimed. He got to his feet.

 "Hug me?" he asked.

"I love you," I said.

"Very good!" I complimented Layla as she started taking her first steps.

"You'll be walking in no time, Jules," Ryan told our daughter.

 

"Aren't they so adorable?" I asked Ryan from the doorway to the twins' room.

"That they are, love, that they are."

"It's hard to think that just a year ago I gave birth to them, and Layla was so sick.."

"Yes, but she recovered," he said. 

"It was a bumpy road, but eventually she recovered."

"I'm just the happiest man alive. I have a perfect fiancee, and perfect kids," Ryan cooed. I laughed as the twins started crying.

"Sounds like it's bed time!" I said, scooping up Julie in my arms.

Generation 1-Chapter 6

 I was only seven months pregnant when I felt it. A pain like no other, ripping through my body in waves.

I stared down at my body as something trickled down my pant legs. I found it hard to focus on anything, but I knew this wasn't supposed to happen nonetheless. "Ry!" I yelled. My water had broken. I was going into labor.

"What?" I heard him ask.

"HURRY, D***IT!" I screamed back as my face contorted in pain.

"Oh sh**!" he exclaimed as he walked in the room and realized what was happening.

"You'll be okay, Jen," Ryan kept saying as they wheeled me away. "Our baby will be okay. I love you!" I heard his words clearly, although I didn't believe all of them. I knew he loved me, however. It was hard to think that about a year ago we met, and now we were having children.

I looked him hard in the eye before they took me from him and said, "I love you too, Ry."

"Nurse, is the baby going to be okay? Is Jen going to be okay?" Ryan asked her.

"I cannot guarantee anything, sir. In the state Ms. Cliffe is in, we cannot postpone the labor. Unfortunately this also means that the baby will be premature, and there are some consequences to that," she said.

I grunted in pain as I watched them talking in hushed tones. I kept hearing the word 'C-section,' which I didn't like too well. I bit my lip as another contraction came through.

"Dont worry, Ms. Cliffe," one of the nurses said to me as the procedure began.

~~~~

"So how do you feel?" Ryan asked me. I sighed.

"Sore," I replied simply. "Have you heard any word?"

"The nurse says Julie is doing fine. Great, actually," he said smiling. My eyes widened.

"What about Layla?" I asked him.

"Layla?"

"Oh my. They didn't tell you, did they?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"No?"

"Ry... We had twins. Twin girls. Julie and Layla."

Soon after that the nurse rushed in with little Julie in her arms. "Look who wants to see you!" the nurse exclaimed.

Ryan scooched onto the small hospital bed with me, and Julie in between us. I felt a little more comfortable now, knowing Julie was fine and doing good. But I still worried about her.

Ryan's POV

"How is she doing?" I asked one of the nurses that was entering the unit. The nurse's expression turned grim.

"Sir.. She was blue when born. Her body has yet to get used to the oxygen that it has been exposed to so suddenly. She's thin, though that's because the other baby was getting most of the nutrients. We have to keep her on a ventilator indefinitely, until we see an improvement."

"When can I see her?" I asked.

"I don't know," the nurse said before walking away.

"Don't worry Layla," I told her, though I knew she couldn't possibly hear me, "we'll all be a big happy family soon."

Generation 1-Chapter 5

The weeks went by, and I started to see a change in myself. I was more moody than normal; but could you blame me? I nearly always stayed sick, though it was mainly in the mornings. Ryan said it was because I wasn't eating enough, and so he kept stuffing me with loads of food and expected me to eat every last bit. Under normal circumstances, I would enjoy having a man pamper and cook for me, but this wasn't normal.

With all the junk he kept feeding me, I could still hardly keep anything down. Although I was hungry a lot, my body seemed as though it got too much. Which I would say it would, considering. I started putting on weight! Of course that made me even crankier, because I didn't want to get any bigger around my waist that I already hat. When I told Ryan this, he simply responded, "More to love!" But I didn't love it.

"How does my lady feel today?" Ryan asked as he walked in the door from work.

"Like usual," I mumbled as I leaned into this kiss.

"Hmm. Sounds like I'm not giving you enough to eat!" he said and smiled. I frowned. "What?"

"You're giving me enough to eat. Actually, if you haven't noticed, I'm getting fatter!" I exclaimed. He shrugged.

"You're not getting fatter, dear. You're just perfect." Cheesy. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Well, since you're not hungry right now, do you mind if I head off to bed? It was a busy day at work." I ushered him away. Ever since I became sick, he's been staying at my house. He pretty much lived there now, except most of his things were still at his house.

But anyways, now that he was gone to bed, I could have more time to do something I'd been thinking about. .

 I stood outside the hospital. I had to make a decision; should I go, or should I not? It was especially hard because Ryan had no earthly ideal that I would be making this visit, and I wasn't even sure if I had the funds to afford it. But surely I could make an exception. Besides, what if I had some rare illness or something? I had to know for certain.

"So, Ms. Cliffe, would you mind telling me why you're visiting?" the female doctor asked.

"Well, Doc," I said, "I've been sick for the past few months. Moodiness, fatigue, cramps, extreme hunger--but not really able to keep anything in my system. ." The doctor began scribbling something down in her notes, which I assumed would be my symptoms.

"Alright, Ms. Cliffe. I have a suspicion to what it might be, but we're going to run some tests. Sit tight, the nurse will be right with you," she informed me before leaving. I sighed. At least it might not be so major as I thought.

The nurse that came led me to a small room, or a corner rather, where I was told the doctor would come to see me with the results of the tests. I was anxious in knowing what was wrong with me. The wait seemed to last forever, but it really wasn't. The wait in the waiting room was longer than this one.

A few minutes later, the woman appeared. "Ms. Cliffe, when was your last period?" she asked. Her question caught me off guard.

"Um. I don't remember. But what does my period have to do with this?" I asked her.

"OK. Have you acted in any sexual activity lately?" she asked.

"I... Umm.." How was I supposed to know that when I didn't even know. But then again . . the shots flashed before my eyes.

~~~~

~~~~

"Ma'am?" she called. "It's a yes or no question, ma'am."

I shrugged my shoulders. 

"See, let me show you," she said, motioning me to stand. She pressed on my stomach gingerly, sending a small tremble through it.

"Woah! What was that?" I asked her. She looked up at me and smiled.

"Congratulations, Ms. Cliffe, you're a few months pregnant."

I was shocked. One side of me was overwhelmed with joy, but the other half was full of sadness--or insecurity. What would Ryan think? I contemplated telling him. There was no doubt that I couldn't hide it. Especially not now. Plus it was too late for an abortion--not that I agreed with those anyways. I would have to tell him.

Everything was peaceful two weeks later. I snuggled up to him, basking in the comfort of being in his arms. I was afraid that this might be the last time. In all truth, I didn't want it to be. Nobody has ever made me feel as though Ryan does. . . As if I actually exist, and am worth something. But I needed to tell him. I looked up at him and he grumbled in response to my movement. I shook him slightly, causing him to look up at me.

"Ry," I began. He stared at me, allowing me his undivided attention. "Ry, I went to the doctor two weeks ago."

He sighed. "And what did they say?"

"Ry?"

"Yes?"

"I'm pregnant." His eyes widened and he sat up.

His hand rested on my lower stomach. "So you're pregnant?" he asked.

"Yes. . . ,"I replied slowly.

"Why would you ever hide such a thing?"

"I thought-"

"What? What did you think? I would leave you?" he asked quickly, a little agitation in his voice.

I nodded helplessly, tears slowly beginning to trickle down my face. He pulled me closer, folded in his arms. He smiled down to me. I could nearly swear my heart skipped a beat when he said, "Jennie, I would NEVER leave you. And this baby? It's just another part of our love story."

Generation 1-Chapter 4

After a while I heard the creak of the bed as he stirred. I turned my gaze to him, with my head still pounding. He looked at me and smiled, before looking at his surroundings. "Wait--where am I?" he asked.

"My house, apparently."

"Last I remember we were at the club, dancing-" he broke off. He seemed to come to a realization. "Oh my gosh! Did we-" I didn't let him finish.

"I-I don't know!" His eyes traveled down my body, seeing my nightie. I blushed and he looked the other way, shielding his eyes.

"Sorry! Here, let me make it up to you," he said, get up from the bed and slipping on his clothes over his boxers. He left the room. Thankfully, that left me the opportunity to get dressed myself.

The smell of Mac-N-Cheese floated to my bedroom, lulling me out of it. I sniffed the air. "Mmm. Something smells good."

He laughed. "I should hope so, it only took me four years to make it as a Chef."

Awkwardly we sat and ate a light dinner. There were so many questions that I wanted answers for; so many things I wanted to know, but couldn't seem to find the right time or courage to ask. He might have been thinking the same, because he didn't say a word either.

Unfortunately, about half an hour later my stomach didn't agree with me. Either that, or Ryan had some evil scheme to poison me. At that point, I wasn't exactly sure which one I would prefer. .

It got worse. He came in and sat in the floor, gazing at me chucking my stomach out.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked between breaths.

"I can't just leave you here," he said. I really couldn't argue.

"You should go," I murmured, my eyes resting.

"No," he answered firmly.

"Why?" I asked weakly.

"Because you're sick and running a temperature. Besides, this is all my fault. I cooked the food, and I took you to the club. It's all my fault, and I'm not going to leave you here to face it all alone."

My eyes fluttered and I stared him deep in his mesmerizing eyes. "Don't leave me."

Before I knew it, his lips were crashing against mine. As I pulled back (slowly, might I admit) I could see the truth in his eyes as he said, "You don't have to worry about that."