Getting Stepsis Pregnant Novels & Stories

Just as we sat, staring at each other, we heard footsteps of someone decending the staircase right behind us. Mom straightened up, wiping the sweat on her forehead. Her hand went through her shoulder length chest nut brown hair as she tried to put it in order, also straightening her blouse. I can't believe she's trying to look good for him. The footsteps got closer, too heavy to belong to a grumpy old man and my heart raced. It has his potbelly that's causing it. As he stepped in front of us, my breath hitched.

Chapter 47 A few months later, after an excellent dinner, the couples go for a barefoot walk on the beach. They feel the fine, cold sand of the beach on their feet, the moon is full and illuminates the path they walk on. Morgana is almost nine months pregnant, walking slowly while embracing Zayn. In the last month, the couples walk on the beach every morning and evening. The doctor asked Morgana and Laila to walk a lot, wiggle and dance, to facilitate dilation and help the babies fit in the pelvis.

Now when I weigh a ton, we might as well jump down the stairs. "I can walk, they said walking is good for childbirth. The bags, we need the bags." I try to breathe in and out and I feel like I was a victim of fraud because I don't feel like is doing anything. "The bags are in the car, they have been there for the last month, just in case." Domenic says as we reach the stairs. Isn't that thoughtful, even I didn't think of that? We reach the bottom of the stairs and Aunt Rachel comes out of the living room.

EVE'S POV Thirty-two weeks pregnant felt like carrying a watermelon strapped to my front. My belly was heavy and round, sitting low enough that I had to waddle more than walk now. Every step sent a dull ache through my lower back, and the baby had taken to practicing soccer drills against my ribs at the most inconvenient times. But despite the discomfort, I couldn’t stop touching my belly... feeling those strong, steady movements that reminded me we were getting closer to meeting our little one.

“You’re about eight weeks along.” Lena stared at the tiny blur on the paper, her fingers trembling as she held it. Adrien watched her—watched her face shift through emotions he couldn’t name. She looked terrified. She looked overwhelmed. She looked in love with something she had only just met. “And one more thing,” the doctor added, glancing between them. “Given what you’ve been experiencing—stress, faintness, the emotional strain—I want you to take the next few weeks very gently. No heavy work. No sudden stress. And eat properly. Your body is working hard.”

My legs were swollen, my back felt like it would snap in two, and every step came with a dull ache that travelled from my waist down to my ankles. Today was our wedding anniversary. I adjusted the bags in my hands and climbed the short steps into the house slowly, breathing carefully, the way the doctor had instructed me to during the last trimester. One hand found the railing. One step at a time. "My child," I whispered, pausing midway to rest. "Today is Mommy and Daddy's wedding anniversary." The baby shifted inside me, a slow, rolling movement that made me catch my breath. I smiled despite the discomfort, despite the heat clinging to my skin, despite everything.

Only the smell of a chemical spray was in the air. I did not stop to check his pulse. I leaned over. My breath caught in my throat. The pressure in my stomach tightened again. I grabbed his flashlight from his belt. I clicked the switch. I pointed the white beam down the stairs leading to the mechanical level. *** The stairs were steep and slick with moisture. I had to turn my body. I held the iron guide rail with both hands. I prevented my frame from falling under the heavy pull of my pregnancy. "Hold on, baby," I muttered. I pressed one hand against the curve of my stomach. A fierce wave of pain made my vision blur. "A few more minutes."

I could feel the intense tension radiating off his large body, tight and coiled up like a metal spring ready to snap. “They are everywhere,” I said quietly, feeling a wave of panic try to take over. “Every single step I take, every corner I turn in this place, someone is standing there watching me. And now… my mother knows exactly where we went. She knows we went to the waterfall together.”

I took the prescription and looked at it. "How long will I be on it?" I asked. "Through the third trimester," she said. "We'll reassess at thirty six weeks depending on how the pregnancy is progressing. In the meantime I want you to add something else." She reached for a printed sheet from the folder on her desk and handed it across. "These are positioning guidelines for sleeping. Left side where possible .. it takes pressure off the major blood vessels and reduces strain on the ligaments overnight. A pillow between your knees will help with the lower back component." She tapped the sheet once. "These are not suggestions, Ruby. These are instructions if you want a safe pregnancy.”

I gave the driver a grateful smile, hoping to banish the frown from his lips and wasn’t surprised when it remained firmly in place. “I’m not so sure about this, miss.” “Everything will be fine.” Even i didn’t believe my own words. Without a second glance, i carefully made my way down the steps and steadied myself when my feet finally rested on the sidewalk. The further along I got in my pregnancy, the harder it was to move around and retain my balance. The baby wiggled and stretched inside me, reminding me of his presence, and i gently rested my hand atop my roundness. “We will be home soon, little one.” I whispered almost to myself.