Special Deliveries Ch. 02.2

"I am not stepping on 'dat t'ing vit' my bare feet!"

"Okay, okay, never mind, I'll take care of it."

Eight years and dozens of Riley-killed insects later, this remained only a minor annoyance in their house and union. Existent, but minor. It wasn't as though the house was crawling with Jiminys, or any other nuisances. If they did come in, they risked meeting a very energetic and playful Tiger. The point was, outside factors like bugs and unpleasant weather failed to rattle them. Their wills for harmony were resilient, and something would have to be seriously wrong to throw a wrench into their happiness. A happiness that was now increased exponentially, as the test came up positive, and the obste-gyno confirmed... that Elsa was officially pregnant.

Riley was not lying in the pre-Easter e-mail that Elsa's extraordinary beauty made her glow, and now she glowed even brighter. They spent the first minutes of revelation spouting tears of joy. The next hour or two went to calling, e-mailing and/or instant messaging everyone they knew. The happy news was fanned like wildfire; they stopped only short of alerting the media.

Riley knew she'd a bit of self-prep to do as the non-carrying parent as well. She reminded herself that she loved Elsa more than life itself, and vice versa. The other thing they did the first day was have mind-blowing sex, which they figured they'd better as much as they could for now. Once parents, it would be tough to find time to sleep in their bed, much less rock each other's world.

And so the weeks progressed. After month one, Elsa was adhering to an adjusted diet, and Riley was starting to be very glad there were two bathrooms in the house. As Elsa'd stated, she knew the unpleasantries that were coming, and that she could handle them. As long as both understood that by this point her naturally sunny, jovial disposition would start waning, like it or not. Sure enough, halfway to month two, her boobs tenderly swelled, her expanding tummy went queasy, and her vocabulary got more colorful. The classes weren't to come for a good while, but neither felt a little extra diligence could hurt. They stocked up on preliminary supplies, chose one of the lesser-used rooms for the nursery, and visited Riley's Moms. Especially as another pair of lesbian parents—quite a unique advantage in their situation—Riley and Elsa requested their insight.

The pre-natal visits began. Elsa underwent her exams and they delightedly found that they could hear the baby's heart. This renewed any energy or zeal the girls had lost to this point. One thing that made Riley's own enthusiasm wane was having to clean Tiger's litter box. This was till now Elsa's self-assigned job, was less than pleasant, and didn't make Riley's day. But she took several deep breaths—of fresh air—each time, until content again. Just as whenever Elsa had her go to the store for her cravings. They stayed in contact together and apart, Riley asking each day how Elsa was feeling, what she'd been up to. Elsa kept finding new ways to spend her days, admitting it was nice not to have to go to work through all this. She didn't envy Riley her job, but Riley neither envied her condition. Her feelings of guilt resurfaced, though, when Elsa said she'd been doing chores around the house. Even chores that required no physical strain. And even though she insisted on performing them. Riley's biggest guilty pang hit one day in month four as she came home to find Elsa rinsing out a bowl, literally barefoot in the kitchen, tightened apron and all. Riley almost had to tell her to please come out and sit down, or at least get the apron off. But once again, she'd never looked more precious and adorable.

If this latter feeling was wrong of her, Riley started to get a bit of hers back, in a way. Though she didn't find this aspect at all objectionable at first, Elsa's constant hormone-driven horniness was beginning to wear her out. Maybe it was partly the randy Swede in her, but once Elsa's morning, afternoon, evening or twilight sickness went away, she was ready to grab Riley, fling her in that bed and jump on her. She'd always loved having her belly licked, and never more than now. And while the sex was still no hassle, Riley had thought she could never give or receive too many orgasms. She was mistaken—and, as she liked to say, how.

The halfway point was reached. Through the whole of it they stayed in contact with all three parents and Steve, providing them with updates and scanned sonograms, having the occasional meal out with them. Their biggest update yet was to come soon. The nurse performing their next ultrasound asked, with a smile, if they'd like to know the gender.

"Omigod, you know, for sure? You can tell us??" said Riley.

"That's right."

"Honey? Wanna know?"

Elsa hesitated.

"...Yes."

"Me too!" Riley turned excitedly back to the nurse. "Okay, go ahead!"

"All right...

"...It's a girl."

Riley's face filled with joyful surprise. "OH!!"

Elsa's... didn't quite.

"...Oh."

Elsa really did too want to know ahead of time. But though she'd kept it secret (and knew she should just be happy their pregnancy was going well), she'd realized she wanted it to be a boy from the beginning. There was a reason... but it was complicated, and very uneasy to talk or think about. She knew Riley would be elated no matter what it was, and very much envied her this feeling. She wished she could be as ecstatic either way. Riley noticed on the drive home she seemed deflated and less than herself, and asked if she was all right. Not up to talking about it just now, Elsa said yeah, she was okay, just a little tired.

"Really? You seemed fine on the way up."

"I, uh... guess it just hit me."

It occurred to Riley that Elsa's demeanor shift could've been due to mood swings. But this seemed insensitive to bring up. Elsa'd wanted to know now so that there were still four months to sort her feelings, mood swings or not. She'd read in her research about this or that she could do to increase the chance of having a boy. But even if these techniques were reliable, she didn't have it in her to be ulterior, or deceive her wife for her own emotional gain. She doubted she could hide it forever, and talking might actually help, but...how to start? It certainly didn't help that now that they knew, Riley began steadily alluding to their baby girl on the way.

2025 was officially settled in for its stay, and the lasses reached month six. A new task under this moon was to enroll in and began their birthing classes. Meeting the teacher and classmates, and the lesson material, this was all fine and good. And not disconcerting in and of itself was being the class' only lesbian couple. They didn't have to read What To Expect When You're Expecting to expect this. What bemused Elsa and frankly irritated Riley was their classmates' inclination—not all of them, just some—to approach and ask personal questions about their relationship or how they got pregnant. Based merely on their being a lesbian couple.

Really? Riley couldn't help but think. In 2025? Sheesh... guess folks never stop being inquisitive.

Oh, Riley was civil and cordial to be certain, and friendliness came pretty natural to Elsa. Still, they had a point to make with their replies, which was that in every other regard, they were just like a straight couple. (Well, except for the fact that Riley had acquired Elsa through a mail-order agency, but that was none of their mueslix.) This was not something to look forward to in future classes... and it was now Riley's turn to feel a little perturbed on the way home. Perhaps, she mused out loud, they should bring Steve with them one or two times to shut those nosy Nancys up. Elsa said she was sure the other expectant parents were just curious. Riley rebutted that there was a fine line between curious and nosy, first of all, and secondly, she'd met enough "curious" folks in her life. They got a bit annoying after a while. Seriously, though, if asked again, she'd explain to the classmates—they had to understand, the only major difference in their relationship was the lack of a Y chromosome. End of discussion.

*****

Månad åttå: namnspel (Moon 8—The Game Of The Name)

Monday, April 7th, 2025, 5:55 p.m.

Fortunately for them, as months seven and eight incepted, the novelty of having lebby lovers in the birthing class wore off. Not so fortunately, these were also the months the day-to-day stresses of gestation really starting getting to them, eroding their wall of love and patience. It became harder to just relax, to find mental opportunities to breathe deep and cleanse their minds. Inevitably, they began to fuss. A frustrating aspect for Riley was trying to sympathize and explore her Couvade's, which she thought Elsa would appreciate. Instead, for her empathy, she received resentful anger and biting, un-Elsa-like sarcasm. Small and moderate such things began to build and torment their relationship. But back to fortunately, what was still relatively easy was making up, trading apologies, and not going to bed angry or horny.

Elsa too wasn't looking forward to this conversation, but knew it was coming. Sure enough, one argument-free early April day, Riley came home to join Elsa and Tiger in front of the TV. She was frankly in a nice mood today, and determined to let nothing mar it.

"Hey, honeys."

"Hi, babe."

Riley lackadaisically kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse, slipping in beside Elsa on the sofa.

"Soooooo, I was thinking... we should probably start trying to come up with a name."

Elsa's eyes saddened and dropped.

"...Hon? ...Som'n' the matter?"

Ja. "No."

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't mean to pry or anything."

Then please don't. "No, no, it's fine, it's just...I'm tired all the time. And...my body's aching in lot of places. I guess this whole thing takes a bigger toll on me than I thought."

"Aw, I'm sorry, babe. But y'know, maybe picking a name'll help cheer you up. What do you think of, say, Katie?"

"Meh."

"Okay, uh... how about...Monica?"

A pang of anguish infused Elsa's already unenthused face.

"Oh, no, please. The first girl I ever dated was named Monica Lindberg. She broke my heart in million pieces."

"Oh, god...I'm so sorry. ...You know I'll never break your heart, as long as you return the favor."

"Javisst."

Elsa hoped she'd successfully changed the subject, but her hope was in vain.

"...So let's see, how about Annie?"

Elsa re-cringed. "Oooh! Annie Andersson, that was the name of my childhood bully. She made me life a hell in school."

Riley returned her gaze to the TV.

"...Oh. ...Geez. Um...sorry again, Swede-ie. Well, how about you give me some names you like then?"

Elsa knew Riley'd get under her to find out why she was resisting unless she cooperated. So she did.

"Oj då, okay, I... guess I like Rory... or Loni. Or Roni. Or Dale... Jamie... Jessie...for starters."

Riley thought she detected a bit of a theme in this selection, but was pleased Elsa was contributing.

"Okay, good. Lemme grab the computer and I'll start making a list. ...

"'Kay, here we go. Rory, Roni...Loni... um...Dale, I think you said, right?... What were the other ones?"

"Jamie and Jessie."

"All right, cool. I'll make a column for yes, no and maybe. So what do you think of... Sarah?"

"Eh... dunno."

"...'Right; maybe it is for Sarah. Your turn."

"Mmm... Leslie?"

"Oh, I like that one! I'll put that under tentative yes. And, Lizzy, while we're at it; I like that one too."

Elsa decided not to fight her on Lizzy. In fact, she decided she'd better not veto all Riley's choices, or again, Riley'd start asking why, what was up. Luckily, the next one Riley came up with Elsa didn't mind.

"How about Terri?"

"That one's okay."

"Good! Now we're cookin'. Your turn."

"...Elsa?"

Riley chuckled. "As in... you? As in Elsa junior? Yeah, no; I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"B—...because Dads name their kids after themselves, Els; Moms don't!" Riley laughed. "Ever met a Laura Jr.? Kathy Jr.? Sue Jr.?"

"...I kinda like Sue."

"Oh! Good, a'right. Another maybe-yes. Okay, you're up."

"Ummm... Dani? With an 'i'?

"Like Danielle? Mm, okay, I guess. I'll put that one under maybe. D-A-N-I-parenthesis-E-L-L-E. Parenthesis.

"...A'right, what about Barbara?"

"...You mean like Bobbi?"

"Uh, well, no, not exactly; I meant like Barb, or Barbie, or Babs, or Babette."

"I guess Babs is cute."

"Awesome. And I'll put Bobbi, or Roberta, under maybe for you. Now let's see... Michelle?"

"Mm, not real crazy about Michelle. I kinda like Shelly though."

"Fair enough. Oh, y'know what—we should hold on to some of these others we both like for her middle name too."

"...Whose last name is she gonna have?"

"...OH. That's a good question. ...Well, we can figure that out later. You got another one?"

"Hm. Eh... Marion, maybe?"

"Maybe it is. Paula?"

Elsa looked up in thought.

"This may sound weird, but that's one of those ones I feel like it might be good to see if she 'looks' like a Paula. If that makes sense."

"Hm, I suppose so. All right, you go."

"...Well, I guess I can't say Riley."

"I'd appreciate it if we didn't," Riley chuckled once more. "Les-keep thinkin'."

"We could name her after one of your Moms."

"Mmm, dunno; that might feel weird when I had to discipline her or yell her name. I guess that also rules out your Mom's name."

"Uh, yes; please just forget about my mother's name."

"...Actually, I don't know her name. ...Um...Els, honey, forgive me for asking, but... did I happen to pluck a little nerve there?"

JA. "No, no... w-what about Kelly?" Elsa quickly sidestepped and suggested, before she remembered. Riley shot her a look.

"Yeah, that's a hard no," said Riley, "As is Janet, by the way. I'm not even gonna type them in there."

"Oh god...I'm so sorry, darling; I complete forgot."

"Don't worry about it; it happens. All right, um...how 'bout Wendy?"

"...I don't really like Wendy's."

Chuckle. "Well, I...wasn't talking about the restaurant. I mean, if we did name her Wendy, it might feel a little funny taking her to Wendy's, but we don't have to tell anyone. And if you don't like Wendy's, we don't have to go there anyway."

"Just, just no. Okay?"

"...Elsa, are you sure there isn't something wrong?"

"No, I...I told you, Riley, I'm just tired and cranky and sore because I'm pregnant. This doesn't tickle, you know."

Riley took a moment, and set down the laptop.

"Y'know what? I'm gonna do something to make you feel a little better."

Don't really see how you very much could, but... "What?"

Riley smiled, kissed her, and caressed her cheek.

"I'm gonna rub your feet."

Elsa's heart melted. She felt bad for that little snap she'd made. She dropped her voice to a murmur.

"Okay."

So Riley fetched the lotion and towel, brought Elsa's feet up onto the table and began pampering them. Just as Elsa used to do regularly for her after a hard day of work. Also similarly, it wasn't long until Elsa's head rolled back with a moan.

"OJ gud, kära, det känns så skitbra..."

Riley had picked up a decent bit of Swedish from her, and deduced this statement was one of approval. And even if she hadn't gotten a word of it, Elsa's tone of voice and body language translated brilliantly.

"Underbart," she replied, feeling that little tingle she got when Elsa praised her Swedish. She definitely knew this word.

"So how about Olivia?"

Elsa's head lolled to the side. "...Va?"

Riley knew she was tired and a little scatterbrained, but took this reaction as a compliment regardless.

"Got it; maybe for Olivia."

A rough twenty-one minutes later, Riley's front paws were beginning to cramp, as fortunately Elsa's hind paws felt they were about done. She tried to reach forward, couldn't, and so requested Riley put them on the floor—and on the towel. Riley obliged, wiping off her hands, returning beside her bride and affecting a soft soothing voice.

"I hope I did a good job."

"Oh my god, Riley, I dunno what I'd do without you..." Fastän utan dig vore inte jag gravid, men...

"So shall we continue our little name game?"

"Oh, um...sure."

"Just so I know, Els, were there, eh...any other females who gave you an especially hard time when you were younger?"

Pause. "...Yeah."

"...Okay, well, why don'tcha tell me their names so I can put 'em in the no column."

"It's just one. ...Her name was Vana. V-A-N-A."

"...'Was'?"

"Yeah. She's not alive anymore."

"Oh. Yikes. ...You didn't, uh...y'know... did'ja?"

Elsa chortled. "Um, no. Pneumonia."

"Oooh...well. Not exactly the most American name, but we'll put down that and Vanna as a no. Okay, what else...Els?" Snicker.

"Well, how about... Jo, Mo or Sal?"

"...Who're those, the Impractical Stooges?"

"No, but they're nice names too. Oh, so's Bailey."

"Oh, I like Bailey! And—oh, I see what you mean now, girl versions of Joe, Moe and Sal. ...'Kay, how about Britney?"

"Mmm...I like Whitney better than Britney."

"Oh, good call. I'm a bigger fan of Miss Houston myself. Was never that wild about Miss Spears, totally honest. How about Amy?"

"Eh, 's a little on the common side for me."

"Mm, fair. Okay then, your turn."

"Jordan?"

"Not bad, I'd consider that. What about Sheena?"

"Oh, Sheena sounds a little too much like... like she'll be kissing kids on the playground when she's five."

"HA! Point taken. Okay, no to Sheena."

"...Carrie?"

"Ooh. Negative. That's the name of my childhood bully; moving on. ...Mary?"

"That's a nice name."

"Agreed! Okay, you go."

"...Shannon."

"Not bad. Nina?"

"Mmm... Charlie?"

"...Maybe if we formalize it into Charlotte. ...Emily?"

"...Also a little common."

"I guess you're right. Britney and Whitney came up earlier, then I said Amy; guess some of these are nods to my singer gals. Next'll be Melissa, Kathryn and Janis."

"Janis is nice. Yeah, I...guess I want one that's a little unique. For a girl."

"A little unique?"

"Yeah, not extremely unique. And not something all new age-y or hippie-ish either, like Harvest, or Rainbow, or Freedom."

Riley stifled her giggle at Elsa's pronunciation of "extremely." She gave it no silent letters: "ik-STREEM-ih-lee." Much as she'd come to acclimate and sound American over the years, sometimes her accent still shone through. And it still tickled Riley.

"Hee hee...as a lesbian, I like Rainbow, but not as a name for my daughter, I agree."

"Yeah...hey, Riley, can we... can we take a break? My mind's turning a little mushy."

"Well, I'd like to think my foot rubs can do that to a girl," quipped Riley. "Not to mention my, eh...rubs in other places."

Elsa started to try and push herself up.

"All right, if we're gonna get frisky, I should probably waddle around first and get the blood flowing."

"I'll get your blood flowing... from the limbs to the you-know-whats."

"Ooooh...seduce my big pregger ass, why don'tcha."

"Waddle it right into that there bedroom, tiger."

"Mraow!"

They watched him hop off the sofa and trot into their bedroom. Their gazes returned to one another's.

"...Just our luck to have the only cat on Earth who not only knows his name but responds to it."