Chapter 25 #2
“You’ve been putting our children’s needs ahead of your own comfort for months now.
” Tigran’s observation makes me consider my recent choices differently.
“You’ve followed bed rest orders that you hate, taken medications that make you nauseated, and submitted to medical procedures that make you uncomfortable, all because it’s what’s best for them. ”
“That’s just basic pregnancy management.” I try to dismiss his point, but I see the truth in what he’s saying. “Any responsible pregnant woman would do the same things.”
“Not every woman would handle it with as much grace as you have.” Tigran leans down to press a gentle kiss to my belly. “Not every woman would maintain her strength and humor while dealing with the physical challenges of carrying sextuplets.”
“I don’t feel graceful.” I watch him interact with our unborn children with tenderness that still surprises me. “I feel like a beached whale who complains too much and needs help with everything.”
“You’re a woman who’s doing something extraordinary while maintaining her sense of self.” Tigran looks up at me with an expression that makes my chest pang with emotion. “I’m more in love with you every day.”
I can’t hide my skepticism. “Even when I’m enormous and cranky?”
“Especially then.” Tigran’s honesty is both touching and confusing. “You’re growing our children and sacrificing your comfort for their well-being, and there’s nothing more beautiful than watching someone you love become a mother.”
I suddenly realize that somewhere in the midst of feeling frustrated with my changing body, I’ve been pushing him away emotionally.
I’ve been so focused on what I’ve lost in terms of independence and physical capability that I haven’t fully appreciated what we’ve gained.
“I’m sorry I’ve been difficult. I know this isn’t easy for you either, watching me struggle and not being able to fix things. ”
“You haven’t been difficult.” He moves from the chair to sit carefully on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been honest about how hard this is, which is what I need from you.”
“I feel like I’m failing at being pregnant.” The confession is embarrassing but necessary. “I should be glowing, maternal, and excited instead of frustrated, scared, and uncomfortable.”
“You’re not failing at anything.” He takes my hand. “You’re succeeding at something that’s incredibly challenging while staying true to who you are.”
“Who I am is someone who doesn’t like feeling dependent on other people.” I intertwine our fingers. “I hate admitting weakness or asking for help.”
“I know, but you’re strong enough to accept help when you need it and honest enough to admit when things are difficult.” He brings my hand to his lips. “You’re brave enough to do something terrifying because it’s what’s best for people you love.”
“I do love them already.” The admission comes with a flutter of movement that suggests the babies are responding to my emotional state. “Even though they’re making me miserable and destroying my body, I love them more than I thought possible.”
“I love them too.” Tigran’s voice is soft with wonder.
“What if something goes wrong during delivery?” The fear that’s been haunting me for weeks washes over me again. “What if bed rest isn’t enough, and they come too early? What if I can’t carry them long enough for them to be healthy?”
“I have similar fears, but at least we’re a team in this.” Tigran’s certainty is comforting even though it doesn’t answer my specific concerns. “Dr. Kozlova is optimistic we can get you to at least thirty-two weeks, which gives them excellent chances of being healthy.”
“Thirty-two weeks still means two months in the NICU.” I try to imagine visiting six premature babies in incubators while not being able to hold them or feed them normally.
The NICU facility is just down the hall, waiting for six babies with all the equipment they could ever need, and Tigran has been busy hiring doctors and nurses to staff everything, wanting our plan in place well in advance.
It’s a luxury to have that in the house instead of having to spend time at the hospital NICU like other parents, but I still dread the time they’ll be in there. “That’s two months of worrying about whether they’re strong enough to survive.”
“Or, two months of watching them grow stronger every day.” He reframes the scenario in a way that feels less terrifying.
“You make it sound manageable.” I study his face for any sign of the anxiety I know he must be feeling. “Are you scared about any of this?”
“I’m terrified,” he says with blatant honesty. “It haunts me that something will happen to you during delivery, and I’ll be left with six babies and no you. I’m terrified something will happen to one or all of them, and I’m worried I won’t know how to be a good father to one child, let alone six.”
“You don’t show it.” I appreciate his vulnerability even as it makes me realize how much pressure he’s been putting on himself to be strong for both of us.
“I show it to you,” he says softly. “You’re the only person I can be scared with.”
The admission creates an intimacy between us that feels different from our physical connection.
This is emotional nakedness that goes beyond anything we’ve shared before, and it makes me want to be closer to him despite the physical limitations of my condition.
“I want you to hold me, not because I need help with something, but because I miss being close to you.”
“Are you sure?” Tigran’s concern is touching. “The doctor said to avoid anything that might cause stress or physical strain.”
“Being close to you doesn’t cause stress.” I shift carefully to make room for him on the bed. “Being separated from you causes stress.”
He settles beside me with careful movements that avoid jostling my position.
He puts his arms around me gently, and the tension in my body begins to relax for the first time in weeks.
“I miss this.” I press my face against his chest, breathing in the scent that’s become so familiar to me.
“I miss feeling connected to you instead of just feeling like a medical condition you’re managing. ”
“You’re never just a medical condition to me.” His voice is muffled against my hair. “You’re the woman I love, who is carrying our children.”
“I miss feeling desirable instead of just feeling enormous.” The confession is embarrassing but honest. “I miss feeling like your wife instead of just feeling like an incubator you’re protecting.”
“You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever known.
” He pulls back to look at me directly. “Pregnancy hasn’t changed that.
If anything, watching you grow our children makes you more beautiful to me.
” He puts his hand on my belly, finding the spot where the babies are still most active.
“You’re doing something miraculous and seeing you take such good care of our babies adds to my feelings for you, both physically and emotionally. ”
The tenderness in his voice combined with his gentle touch suffuses me with emotional warmth. For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself instead of like a vessel carrying precious cargo. “I love you even when I’m frustrated and scared and completely out of my element.”
“I love you too.” He leans down to kiss me, careful not to put pressure on my expanded abdomen.
The kiss starts gentle but deepens as weeks of emotional distance dissolve between us.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing harder, and there’s desire in his expression that mirrors what I’m feeling.
“I want to be close to you.” The words come out breathless. “Really close, not just emotionally close.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” Tigran’s concern is genuine, but it’s clear he wants the same connection I’m craving.
“Dr. Kozlova said intimacy is fine as long as we’re careful and avoid positions that put pressure on my abdomen.” I reach for him with more confidence than I’ve felt in weeks. “I need to feel like your wife again.”
Tigran explores my changing body with gentle touches and traces the curve of my expanded belly with awe. “You’re so beautiful like this.” His voice carries wonder as he presses gentle kisses along my collarbone. “Carrying our children and growing our future inside you…”
“I feel enormous.” The complaint slips out despite the warmth spreading through me from his touch.
“You feel like a miracle.” He shifts carefully beside me, mindful of my size and comfort. “You’re the most incredible woman who’s ever existed.”
When he takes my breast into his mouth, swollen and sensitive from pregnancy, I arch against him with a gasp. The sensation is more intense than before, with every nerve ending heightened by the changes in my body.
“Does this hurt?” He pulls back immediately, concern replacing desire in his expression.
“No.” I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him back to me. “It feels amazing. Different but amazing.”
He continues exploring with careful attention to my responses, learning how pregnancy has changed what brings me pleasure. When he slides his hand down to cup my pussy, finding me already wet with need, he groans against my skin.
“So ready for me.” He parts my folds gently, circling my clit with the perfect pressure. “So fucking perfect.”
“I need you inside me.” The words come out breathless as he works me higher. “I need to feel connected to you.”
“How do you want me?” He waits, letting me decide how we come together. “What feels best for you?”
I turn onto my side, and he settles behind me, pressing his chest against my back while his cock nudges against my entrance. The position lets him support my belly while giving us both what we need.
“Like this.” I reach back to guide his cock to my channel, gasping at the sensation of his cockhead sliding gently inside me due to our careful positioning. “Yes, just like this.”
He enters me slowly, wrapping his arm around my expanded middle while he cups my breast with his other hand. The angle is perfect, letting him reach deeply while keeping pressure off my belly.
“Your pussy feels so good around my cock.” His voice is rough against my ear as he begins to move with gentle thrusts. “So warm, wet, and perfect.”
“Harder.” I push back against him, needing more. “I can take it.”
He increases his rhythm, still careful but with more force behind each thrust. He moves from teasing my breast to my nipple while his cock fills me again and again.
“I love you like this.” He speaks in English first, then switches to Russian, his voice soft and intimate. “Moya zhena, carrying my children.”
The endearment in his native language makes my pussy clench around him, and he responds with a thrust that hits exactly the right spot.
“What are you saying?” As pleasure builds, I gasp.
“That you’re mine, these babies are ours, and I’ll protect all of you with my life.” He continues in Russian, speaking words I don’t always understand but feel in my bones. “Moi deti, you will know only love.”
“Are you talking to them?” The realization that he’s speaking to our children while making love to me sends emotion crashing through me.
“I want them to know my voice.” He slows his thrusts to something deeper and more deliberate. “I want them to know they’re wanted, loved, and safe.”
He slides his free hand down to where we’re joined, stroking my clit while his cock continues its careful rhythm. The dual stimulation combined with his words in Russian makes my entire body tighten with approaching release.
“Moi synov’ya, moi docheri,” he continues in Russian, his voice tender despite the desire roughening it. “Your papa will never let harm come to you. Your mama is the strongest woman in the world.”
“Tigran.” His name comes out in a sob as pleasure and emotion tangle together. “I’m going to come.”
“Yes, you are.” He increases the pressure on my clit while maintaining his steady rhythm. “Let me feel how much you love this and love me.”
When my orgasm hits, it’s with the force of months of fear and uncertainty finally transformed into something beautiful. I cry out his name as I clench around him, my entire body shaking with the intensity as my inner walls cling to his spasming cock.
He follows seconds later, tightening his arm around me as he buries himself deeper and empties inside me with a groan. His cock pulses inside me, marking me in the most fundamental way.
“Moya sem’ya,” he whispers against my neck as we both catch our breath.
“What does that mean?”
“It means my family. You and these babies are everything that matters to me.” He presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder. “It means I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know how loved you are.”
Tears slip down my cheeks, but they’re not from sadness. I’m so filled with love for him, and feeling loved by him, that I can’t manage to speak. Instead, I just turn in his arms, with his help, so we can lie facing each other.
He faces me with his hand resting protectively over our children.
Some of my fears seem silly suddenly as I understand I haven’t become weak by depending on him.
I’ve become part of something bigger than my individual strength that will protect and nurture six new lives in ways that neither of us could accomplish separately.
“What are you thinking about?” Tigran’s voice is drowsy with satisfaction.
“I’m thinking about how different this is from what I expected when we got married.” I trace the tattoos on his chest. “How much better it is than what I thought we’d have.”
“Better how?”
“I thought being married to you would mean losing myself in your world.” I press a kiss to his throat. “Instead, I’ve found parts of myself I never knew existed.”
“Like what?”
“Like the part that can love six children before they’re even born and can find strength in accepting help instead of always trying to be independent.” I look up at him. “I can trust someone completely with my heart and my future.”
“I’m honored to be trusted with those things.” His tone is serious. “I don’t take the responsibility lightly.”
“I know you don’t.” I rest my arm across his side, cupping his back with my palm. “That’s why I can trust you with them.”
As I drift off to sleep in his arms, with our children moving gently in my belly and the sound of his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I realize that this is what love looks like when it’s real instead of just romantic.
It’s choosing to be vulnerable with someone who’ll protect that vulnerability.
It’s finding beauty in sacrifice and strength in dependence and hope in the unknown future you’re building together.