Harry's POV

"Merry Christmas," I whisper in Savannah's ear. She sighs as she wakes up and I leave soft kisses down her neck and over her shoulder. She reaches for my hand and pulls it over her ever expanding belly. Soon enough that won't be there anymore. So weird.

"You too," she mutters. She struggles a little as she moves to lay on her back. She trails her fingertips gently over my jawline as I lean down to kiss her on the mouth. "I have to pee."

"Okay," I laugh. I stand to help her get out of bed and try to help her to the bathroom as well, but she swats me away with an exasperated sigh, telling me she's completely capable of using the bathroom on her own. If I could be with her every second of the day and do everything for her so she never had to leave that bed, then that's what I would do. But obviously that's not possible. Plus, she would never let me do that because Savannah is far too independent for her own good.

When she comes back to bed she half sits against the headboard, pulling her shirt- my shirt- up so that her belly is exposed. This is where I would expect to see some sort of panicked expression or at least a little bit of fear or anxiety mixed into the smile on her face. But there's not. And it makes me feel bad because I can't help but be terrified and a little angry when I think about having this baby.

"We haven't pick out any names," she says quietly. Her hands slide over the stretched skin and she sighs as I prop myself up on my elbow next to her. "I still like Ava."

"Yeah."

"I was thinking Ava Tenley after my mom, since we used Anne's name with Sophie."

"I'm sure she'll like that."

"Do you like it?"

A sigh leaves my lips instead of responding. I want to be excited about this with her, but it's so hard when having this baby could mean that I lose the love of my life. It's a little bit contradictory. I've done my best not to let Savannah see how terrified I am and how anxious the birth of this baby is making me, but she's a little more perceptive than I'd like, especially when it comes to me.

"Harry," she says gently. My eyes close as the back of her fingers brush against my cheek. "I want you to be excited with me."

"It's not that easy."

"Yes it is."

"Savannah." I really don't want to talk about this again.

"I know this is scary, but we're having a baby. Focus on that, okay?" she says quietly.

"Easier said than done."

"I don't know where you got the idea that you're not allowed to love this baby. This isn't his fault, it just happened. So stop thinking so much and just be happy with me. Besides, it's Christmas so you don't have a choice." She leans over to kiss me, groaning as she tries to sit back up. "This thing must weight fifteen pounds by now!"

Flashback

"Harry." Savannah pokes my arm until I turn around to face her. "Are you awake?"

"I think you just gave me a bruise," I mutter, laying on my side so I can see her. She's got the blankets off and her shirt hiked up, wide eyes just staring at her stomach. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think I can do this."

"Sweetheart, I don't think you really have choice at this point."

"It's not funny!" She looks at me and I stop smiling now since I can see how terrified she is. "What if I'm a terrible mother? What if she hates me?"

"You're going to be a great mother."

"I'm not so sure about this whole child birth thing," she says, waving her hands around dramatically. "I didn't sign up for this! This baby is like eight pounds and I have to push her out of me! Out of an area that really is not that large. It's going to hurt! I don't have a very high threshold for pain, I don't know if you knew that."

"Baby, you need to breathe," I tell her calmly. She closes her eyes and does as she's told. "I know you're scared, but try not to focus on that part. Think about afterwards. We're going to have a baby."

"It's easy for you to look past it when you're not the one doing it. What if someone came up to you and was like 'hey, can we push this watermelon through your nostril?' I don't think you'd be able to look past that!"

I have to try not to laugh as she continues to freak out because let's be honest, she's being hysterical and it's actually kind of funny. And endearing. This moment has been a long time coming. She's only nineteen and she's about to give birth so it makes sense that she's scared. I don't blame her.

"You're going to be fine," I assure her, kissing her cheek. She sighs. "I promise."

End of Flashback.

That time it was. It was easy to be excited because what could possibly go wrong? This time is different. I don't want it to be and I know she's right and I need to focus on the baby and nothing else, but it's just not that simple.

"Mewwy Chwistams!" Sophie squeal suddenly, running into the bedroom and diving onto the bed. Her little fingers claw at the blankets while she pulls herself up. She crawls between Savannah and me and places her hands over Savannah's stomach. "Hi baby."

"Merry Christmas, princess." Savannah brushes her fingers through Sophie's messy curls and Soph leans down to place her ear over Savannah's belly button.

"What are you doing?" I ask, laughing and moving over so I can see her face.

"Baby say want cookies," she says. "And happy Chwistmas."

"That baby is going to be a monster just like you," I say, putting my hands on her little waist to lift her up. She giggles as I hold her above my head.

"This is why you need to be excited," Savannah whispers.

---

"How are you feeling?" I ask Savannah, my fingers brushing through the ends of her hair. She shrugs.

"Fine. Why?"

"I need to show you something."

She smiles and looks up at me. "What kind of something?"

"It's a surprise. Do you think you can stand?"

"I'm pregnant, not crippled. Mom, can you keep an eye on Sophie for a minute?"

"Of course. I don't think she's going anywhere," Tenley says, laughing as she looks down at Sophie. She's already half-asleep, her new stuffed bear tucked under her arm and her thumb in her mouth. I think opening presents was enough to wear her out.

After I've helped Savannah up from the bed I keep her hand in mine, leading her out of the room and shutting the door behind us. We're just going to the guest room, which is across the hall from ours, so it's not much of a journey.

"So, what's my surprise?"

I laugh. "I've been working on something since the doctor confined you to that room. I'm not sure how you never noticed, actually."

"Working on what?"

"You'll see."

She gives me a look with raised eyebrows, one that tells me she's not sure if she should be nervous or excited as I push the bedroom door open. Slowly she steps inside and then I flick on the light. Her hand goes to cover her mouth and I lean against the doorframe and watch her take it all in. After we got the news about Savannah we moved my father into our other place and that gave me an opportunity. Savannah being on bedrest was only good for one thing, and that's that I was able to surprise her with a nursery.

The walls have been changed from a pale blue to a neutral beige colour. I managed to get my hands on some stencils to paint 'sweet dreams' in white over the crib, sitting against the wall to the left. Next to the crib in the corner is a white comfy rocking chair and the windows are covered with thick white curtains. The wall to the right has a dresser with some pictures and stuffed animals on it, with a change table beside that. Above those and on that wall I hung up a bunch of white picture frames, all with pictures of me and Savannah and Sophie and the rest of our family. There's one or two left empty for pictures of the new one.

"Harry," Savannah breathes. She walks towards the crib and runs her fingers over the edge of the wood, slowly walking around and landing at the dresser. She takes a little bear off it and smiles. "This is beautiful."

"You like it?"

"Honey, it's gorgeous. When did you have time to do all of this?"

I shrug. "It didn't take that long."

She smiles and sets the bear down, walking back over to me and placing her hands on either side of my face. "This is amazing."

"Baby's got to sleep somewhere," I mutter. She blinks back a few tears and shakes her head at me. "What?"

"You're incredible," she says quietly.

"Did you really think we would have a baby without having a nursery?" She wraps her arms around me and I smile into her hair. "I do love this baby, Savannah. I'm just scared."

"I know." She smoothes her hand over the back of my head. "We're going to be okay."

When I'm confident about moving away without crying or something I take her back to bed because it's making me nervous that she's been standing for so long. Six weeks to go. If I don't have a panic attack before then, maybe we're going to be okay. It'll probably be the longest six weeks of my life.

"I'm going to go start making dinner," I tell her, adjusting the pillows behind her. Sophie curls up against her arm. "Still want pancakes?"

"Only if you got all the fruit for them."

"I did. How could I forget, you called me about forty times when I went grocery shopping."

"I wanted to make sure!" She reaches up and smooths her fingers over my eyebrow. "If you forgot the blueberries everything would be ruined."

"I didn't realize the whole of Christmas hinged on you having blueberries on your pancakes," I laugh. She hits her hand against the mattress.

"In! They have to be right in the batter! Ugh, let me just make them myself."

"I don't think so." I push her shoulders back against the pillows and she huffs in annoyance, rolling her eyes at me. "You're staying right here."

"Daddy, me help you," Sophie says. She sits up and holds her arms out, Savannah eyeing her with slight jealousy in her eyes as I lift her into my arms.

"Sure, Soph. You don't want to keep watching the Grinch?"

"No, he mean."

"Okay," I laugh. We both wave to a disgruntled Savannah and her mother. Sophie has these weird mood swings throughout the day where she prefers to be with one of us over the other. When she wakes up, it's always her mother. She seems to like it better when I bring her to and pick her up from daycare, though, Unless she's really tired after school there isn't much of a preference until after dinner. That's when she cuddles with me until she has to go to bed, and if Savannah isn't at least present when she's being tucked in she throws a fit. These last few weeks have made that a little harder.

"Mummy want blue pancakes," she says as I set her on the countertop.

"That's right. What do you want?"

"What Mummy have. We have cookies now?"

"Sure, you can have a cookie." Narrow-minded, this one. She's so much like her mother it's almost scary. She may look like me, but she's all her mother. How can I not be excited about that?

Notes

christmas. aw.