9 Weeks.
Throughout the first month of pregnancy, the lungs, heart and spinal cord of your fetus will begin to form. It might seem incredible, but before the end of the second month of pregnancy, the heart of your developing infant will be able to pump blood on its own.

It sounds magical.

But it doesn't feel magical.

Harry says I'll get used to it, but every time he says it, I just want to grab him and kick his head. And that's horrible, because he's the father of my child. I should want to shower him with affection, but instead all I want to do is shower him with slaps, to his pretty face and multiple kicks.

Maybe then he'll get 'used' to it.

"There's my favorite teen statistic," and I know I was sad, when Louis wasn't speaking to me (which only happened for two days, but it was a long two days) but now, maybe, I just want to slap him, and kick his head. "How's my baby mama doing?"

"Do you remember how much I wanted a puppy?" Louis nods his head slowly, probably confused by my change of topic. "Well...yeah. I want a puppy." I shrug as Louis comes and lays down next to me.

"You're so strange. Maybe you should give me your baby. That way he has a fighting chance."

"I'm going to kick your head." He has been warned.

Louis rolls his eyes and then gently slides his head to rest over my stomach. And I'm still not used to people doing these type of things. I mean, yes I know. I know there's a tiny person growing in there but right now it's just a sack of fluid and tiny little parts.

"You're okay,right? You'd tell me if you weren't wouldn't you?" Louis voice is small (very unlike Louis) and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that. Or about Louis cuddling my unborn child. Which is still just a sack and tiny-and I mean-tiny parts. "I know I'm still mad, but you're still my best friend and your baby, is my god kid. And as a responsible godfather it's my duty to make sure that the baby, mama and the baby itself, are okay."

I still have to talk about all of that with Harry (even though I'm positive Louis' going to be both godfather and godmother) and that makes me sad, because I've always thought Lilly would be around.

"I'm fine Lou. Yes I'd tell you, if I wasn't. But I am, so..." I can only shrug so much. I brought my hand up to his head and began running my fingers through his feather like hair. "And as for the godfather, I still need to talk to Harry about that. But I feel like we should get someone like the Pope, or Obama. Because it already has odds stacked against it, with me as it's mom."

Louis picks his head up and narrows his eyes. "Don't be so mean to yourself," Louis pinches my side. "You're going to be the MOM of moms. This kid is going to be so lucky."

Louis sweet words make me want to cry.

"Your faith in me, is lovely."

Louis lowers his head again and I feel it nod against me. "It is, even though you're still a teen statistic," Louis drapes his arm around me and cuddles closer. "I could probably make fantastic pizza money, by calling MTV."

My baby might not have a godfather anymore.

"No. The cutoff age is seventeen. I've checked." And I'm embarrassed, because I actually have.

"Shut up," Louis exclaims, "You didn't actually che-oh my god, you tramp! You did!" Louis laughs. And it's not funny. It's really not.

"What are you guys doing?"

My fingers stop mid-stroke. I look up and it makes me sad to see a frown on Harry's face.

And now that I see Harry, it hits me, how much I've missed him. Even though it's only been a few hours. And I know they've all been busy with song writing and rehearsa-thinking about it, why is Louis here?

What?

Louis gets up from the bed, and grins down at me, before looking back at Harry. "Wanted to check on your baby mama." Louis shrugs and walks out, patting his shoulder.

"S'not his job, to check on you," Harry rumbles as the door closes. He looks upset while walking towards me. "S'mine. Your mine, and our baby is mine." Harry gets on the bed and takes Louis' place. And right now this feels nice. It's cliché as fuck, but it's a nice cliché. "I've missed you."

My fingers are scratching against his scalp. "I've been here." I say softly. And I have been. I'm just too lazy to move right now.

"You've been here, but I've been out there," Harry points towards the door and nuzzles closer. "We head off too Knew York, in two days, baby, baby, baby." Harry croons and drops a kiss on my stomach.

"I'm too tired to travel." I complain, a lot. "And I'm feeling annoyingly clingy."

"Clingy Beth is my favorite," Harry raises his head and puckers his lips. Meeting halfway is a bit of a struggle, but a kiss, is always nice. "As long as you're clingy with me, everything is okay. But just me."

And I know that tone. I hate that tone.

"Always you," I mumble. "You're my favorite." And he really is.

"Good." Harry sits up and smiles down at me.

Harry has a nice smile. It's cute and perfect and it makes me happy. Harry should allays be smiling.

"So I have something to tell you," Harry starts hesitantly. I sit up and I don't like this. Why does someone always have something to tell me?

"What is it?" I ask almost too quickly.

"Lilly called."

Lilly? My Lilly? What?

Isn't it strange how fast a mood changes.

Notes

I have menopause.