If anyone told Sana she’d be standing here watching her wife feed their six-month old baby at their young age of twenty-seven, she would slap them across the face and tell them to wake the hell up.

“Stop staring at my s, you . Airi is literally here.”

“Just because I love your s doesn’t mean that’s all I think about,” Sana rolls her eyes, pinching Jihyo’s cheek. “I was thinking about how we’re already at another stage in our lives but I remember everything like it happened yesterday.”

Jihyo coos at Sana’s sentimentality, puckering her lips to give Sana a kiss. She really shouldn’t be surprised at how soft Sana can be anymore, always reminiscing and talking about their relationship progression.

“Yeah? What’s on your mind?”

“The gender reveal.”

 

Jihyo lies on the bed with a death grip on Sana’s hands; they’ve been waiting for this moment for months now but it’s still nerve-wracking. Their lives are about to change within the span of a few minutes.

“Baby, you’re shaking.”

“Of course, I am.” Jihyo whines, smacking Sana’s arm. She writes daily entries in her little diary about her fears, expectations, goals and Sana can recite almost every single word of it. “I don’t think anything could have prepared me for this. So, hold onto my hand without teasing me or you’ll take the couch tonight.”

Sana’s playfulness masks her own nerves effortlessly, and she wants to pat herself on the back for fooling Jihyo. For the past few weeks, Jihyo’s sleep cycle was disrupted almost every hour; unimaginable nightmares were haunting her dreams – today, it could be a baby screaming in her ears; tomorrow, it could be her slipping and having an accidental miscarriage. Sana lost count of the times she awoke to Jihyo thrashing around in her sleep. As much as it breaks her heart to be a bystander with no power to help, Sana knows Jihyo would much rather have nightmares about their baby than no dreams at all.

“Good afternoon! Are our mommies ready to see the gender of their baby?”

The answer is closer to a ‘ no’ but Jihyo clamps down on Sana’s forearm to get a hold of herself.

“We’ve been waiting for this day, Seungwan.”

It’s a funny story, really.

Their obstetrician, Seungwan, quite literally sent Jihyo crashing to the floor (who wasn’t pregnant at the time) because she was holding another mother-to-be with broken water. She apologized profusely and quickly handed Jihyo her name-card before scrambling off again, leaving the latter gobsmacked on the floor. Fast forward months later to a successful IVF and their first check-up with – of course, Son Seungwan herself, Jihyo admits sheepishly that she threw the name-card into the nearest bin without taking a second look at it. Sana exclaimed that it was definitely fate and so, found their destined obgyn.

“Okay, no need to be so fierce.” The doctor chuckles, pulling on her gloves. “Now, try to relax for me. I’m just going to put on some gel so it might feel cold.”

For the first time since her second trimester began, Jihyo actually sees Sana’s innermost emotions. She doesn't think her wife realises but… her tears are threatening to spill from her beautiful brown eyes.

“Oh, baby….” Jihyo whispers, cupping Sana’s cheek. “It’s going to be amazing. Don’t cry….”

Sana sniffles against her sleeve, leaning into the warmth of Jihyo’s palm; so much for maintaining her false bravado. “I know. I’m just… I don't know, I feel so overwhelmed with my love for someone I don’t even know yet, if that makes sense.”

Like every young couple going through their first pregnancy, Sana and Jihyo had no idea where to begin preparing; neither Jihyo’s siblings nor their friends are at similar stages in life. To say they fumbled several times is an understatement; Sana buying book after book on pregnancy care and Jihyo insisting on building their own baby crib from scratch. She enjoys doing handiwork more than Sana, that’s for sure, but Jihyo also has a habit of pushing herself over her own limits. Predictably, Sana returns home after work to Jihyo sitting on the ground surrounded by wooden planks, a hammer and nails by her side. The two of them spent the entire evening weeping into each other’s shoulders, utterly lost with no direction.

Thank God for Nayeon’s well-timed advice.

Perhaps it seems like common sense, or a straightforward answer but in that moment of confusion and despondency, it was like a ray of light in the dark. Finding one of the top obstetricians in the city was easy as pie for the latter, and there they were, sitting in Seungwan’s office.

The small screen lights up and Sana makes an unwarranted noise, earning a jovial giggle from her wife. Jihyo’s heartbeat races as Seungwan moves the transducers across her bulging belly a few times. She can’t even blink, eyes hyper-focused on the screen just in case something pops up. “Okay, everything’s looking good so far. Healthy heartbeat… good form… a rather active baby if I might say so.” Seungwan’s composure effectively calms Jihyo down – the doctor knows just what to say – although the same can’t be said for her antsy wife.

“So…. is it a boy or a girl?”

Seungwan decides against teasing them, noting the way Sana bounces her leg erratically. She’s about to explain more details and how she arrives at her explanation when Sana begins to bawl again.

“Um… did I do something wrong?”

 

Jihyo snorts at the memory, eyes never leaving Airi to make sure she’s drinking well. “You cried so much that Seungwan was semi-tempted to postpone our gender reveal. I don’t think I ever took you for a cry-baby since we were in school but that day blew my mind.”

“I think it’s perfectly logical for me to cry!” Sana grumbles petulantly, breaking eye contact with her wife in the pettiest manner. She lifts her and runs her finger along their daughter’s chubby cheek tenderly. “You were in so much pain during those nine months and you were exhausted often, but you never complained. I… I tried so hard to be the best version of myself for you but I think I failed in so many ways. I think I cried because I was thankful you were healthy, and Airi was in good shape.”

A deep silence envelops the couple; the living room being filled with soft songs from their vinyl player. They have received unconditional love and support from their friends and family, but the hardships seemed to have no end at one point in time. Sana being unable to take extended leave to tend to Jihyo at the start of her last trimester had been a terrible time for both of them; the cravings were amplified; the mood swings were rampant. Ultimately, Jihyo decided against informing their parents, knowing her wife would be figuratively crucified for something out of her control.

“You were too hard on yourself, Sana.”

“You were the one carrying our baby. I think running errands and taking care of you is the least I can do in any situation. Anyway, I’ll go and prepare our dinner – well, supper – while you finish up here.”

Sana leans down to kiss Airi on the forehead, chortling when Jihyo puffs a cheek intentionally to wait for her turn.

Jihyo’s eyes don’t leave her wife’s retreating view, a steady gaze filled with tender affection for the woman. She remembers her first impression of Sana being less than mature for her age when they literally bumped into each other at university; Jihyo entering as a freshman and Sana, a junior in charge of bringing the new group around. The latter was bouncing around (apparently running on two cups of coffee but who can tell when she is and isn’t?) trying to energize everyone. Admittedly, Jihyo’s nerves got the better of her and she gave Sana attitude for the most part.

Yet… that’s one of the reasons why Sana began to pay special attention to her; special attention meaning teasing, mostly. Call them cliché and all that jazz, but Jihyo secretly enjoyed the attention and Sana enjoyed the courting beyond a shadow of doubt.

There’s so much to unpack but the darling baby girl in her arms whines, arms curling into her chest as she drifts off to dreamland. “You’re such a lucky girl, Airi. Your mother is the most amazing woman I know, and she’s going to love you with all of her heart and soul.” Jihyo whispers against Airi’s cheek, cradling her daughter gently.

 

In the kitchen, Sana fiddles with the little mint-coloured box sitting in her pocket. She only has one more week before she has to go back into the office, so she prepared an early gift for their third wedding anniversary. Jihyo is willing to sacrifice her career to become a stay-home mother, at least till Airi is old enough to recognise their friends and her grandparents without crying. In the meantime, Sana will strive to bring home the bread and butter so they can live without a single ounce of worry – without asking her parents’ help, that is.

“Smells delicious.”

“Me or the food?”

Jihyo reaches down to pinch Sana’s for that naughty comment, rolling her eyes at the obvious attempt to flirt. “You smell like burnt steak but whatever floats your boat, babe.”

Seeing Sana standing near the stove with an apron on is a huge… knock-out, and that’s Jihyo having some decorum. She knew Sana could be quite the fire hazard in the kitchen, but that changed significantly after Jihyo got pregnant. Their friends, namely Jeongyeon and Dahyun, once snitched on Sana taking cooking classes from her best friend – who is also a professional chef – Momo, making Jihyo wail due to her unstable hormones. Sana, who detests cooking and sweating, willingly takes cooking classes to make sure Jihyo receives sufficient nutrition. What else can she ask for? 

Sana finally turns the stove off, satisfaction written all over her face as she slices the beef into even pieces. “Stop eating me up with your eyes and set the table, Ji. I’ll bring the food out in a bit.”

Well, she has plenty of time to devour Sana later anyway. 

 

“To the most beautiful, persistent and unfortunately competitive woman I know,” Sana snorts in the midst of her laughter, swatting her wife’s kicking feet away with her own. “It’s only my second time cooking steak without Momo overlooking… so, be kind with your words, Ji.”

Sana leans forward on her chair, legs swinging back and forth as she eagerly waits for Jihyo to take the first bite. She’s not afraid to admit she wants praise and attention from her wife, something that used to annoy the younger woman back in school.

“God, Sana.”

“Is it bad?” Sana’s eyebrows furrow in disappointment, pouting at the unexpected outcome. She even made sure to taste the sauce before drizzling all over the steak slices. “Don’t eat it, baby. Put your fork down – stop. What is wrong with you? Stop!”

Jihyo grabs Sana’s wrist, glaring daggers at her overexcited wife. “You didn’t even wait for me to finish my sentence. I was going to say… that if you cooked like this five years ago, I would have married you immediately.” 

The temporary silence followed by a whine that bounces off the walls of their living room evokes one of the funniest-sounding laughs from Jihyo; the woman begins to wheeze with every passing second. She’s never going to let Sana live that one down; the look of disappointment slowly morphing to absolute shock is priceless. 

 “I tease you because I love you.” Jihyo puckers her lips, blowing air kisses at her wife. “You jumped to your own conclusions anyway, so it wasn’t my fault. Have more confidence in your cooking, babe. I’ve heard from Momo that you’re very adventurous with recipes, so I’m expecting more exotic dishes soon.” 

Sana huffs, refusing to look at the -eating grin on Jihyo’s face… not till Jihyo slides her hand into her own.

“It’s amazing. Thank you for dinner.”

“Anything for you, baby.” Sana promises, lifting Jihyo’s hand to her lips.  

Most people use that one phrase loosely; the word ‘anything’ having its own set of limitations, terms and conditions that hide behind it. When the timing is convenient, suddenly the phrase is not literal. Call it post-trauma; call it a lesson learnt from a young age, but Sana never says that phrase if she doesn’t mean it. Without fail, Sana emphasizes her point whenever J