Grávida Novels & Stories

Soon, she was done and removed the gloves on her hands. "Is everything okay?" I asked immediately, worried that something might be wrong with my baby. "Nothing is wrong. The waist pain is only because you are having a big baby. I advise you to take bed rest and eat a lot of fruit. I will ask Alpha Elijah to send you a personal servant to help out." She said and I quickly shook my head.

What the Doctor told him was that the baby looked healthy and was increasingly making fatal kicks that led to Elina laughing, feeling tickled and having cramps in her uterine wall. The grip on her fingers made Elina feel a little calmer, not about anything, maybe every the woman who is soon going to have a baby feels what the woman feels, anxiety and impatience hit the woman in the oversized dress at the same time. Her heart was beating faster than usual.

"That's obvious.She's bitter and angry Max rejected her and married you even a blind person can figure it out,be careful Adriana a scorned woman is extremely dangerous." "I will thanks again for telling me." "How is the pregnancy coming along?" "Good so far everything is great." "Are you ready for their arrival." "Yes I am all this extra weight is really becoming harder to carry around." Cameroon laughed."You make it look so easy." "Well it ain't."She touched her stomach."But I know in the end it will all be worth it once I hold them in my arms." "Yeah they are."Cameroon agreed. "What about you?Planning on having any."

Chapter 99 Time truly moves without waiting for anyone. Before she realized it, Sheena’s pregnancy had entered the ninth month. Her belly had grown perfectly round, her steps were no longer as quick as before, and almost all of her activities were now limited. That morning, Sheena sat in the family room with her legs stretched out on the sofa. One hand rested on her belly, while the other held a tablet containing company reports. “That’s enough,” Julio’s voice came from the kitchen. “Put it down.”

Hazel POV The safe house had slowly transformed from a luxurious prison into something that almost felt like home. Eight months pregnant now. My body was heavy, full, and often exhausted, but there was a quiet strength growing inside me alongside the baby. The violent nausea had finally eased into manageable waves. My back still ached with a deep, persistent throb, and my ankles swelled noticeably by evening, but I could move more freely than before. The baby’s kicks were strong and frequent — little reminders that life was pushing forward no matter how complicated the world outside these walls became.

GIANNA I’m now eight months pregnant and my body has declared war on my dignity. My ankles are swollen to the point where shoes are a distant memory. My bladder has been colonized by a seven-pound tenant who uses it as a trampoline. My back hurts in places I didn't know I had places. And the borrowed heart, the organ that has carried me through fires and gallery battles and the arms of a man who traces my scar like a prayer, is really working overtime.

The penthouse felt warmer these days, even with all the security still hovering like shadows we couldn’t quite shake. Mornings had a nice rhythm now. Lily would wake up babbling in her crib, demanding cuddles and breakfast right away, while I moved slower with this twin belly that seemed to grow bigger every single day. At almost fifteen weeks, the kicks were constant, little reminders that life was pushing forward no matter what tried to drag us back. Some days my back ached like crazy and my ankles felt swollen, but it was all worth it.

"Sebestian!" Adom yelled, thinking he was home, as he waddled down the stairs. He was out of breath before he had even reached the bottom. His belly was huge, and he was so done with it already. His feet were swollen, and he pretty sure knew he didn't have that pregnancy glow anymore. It was mostly sweaty by now. The last few weeks had flown by. Now, at 38 weeks, he was ready to pop that kid out. It had been kicking nonstop.

The rain fell in a steady, whispering drizzle over Belfast as Siobhan Voss stepped out of the coffee shop in Victoria Square, her round, heavy belly straining against the soft cashmere coat. At seven months pregnant, her body had become a lush, obscene masterpiece — full, swollen breasts that ached with every movement, wide fertile hips, and a beautifully distended belly that drew lingering stares. The weight of it pressed constantly against her, a heavy, warm, shifting presence.

The swelling in her belly. She was pregnant.