Her swollen abdomen was an object of fascination whenever she would stare at the mirror.

In the mornings, as she finished bathing, Eun Tak would find herself standing in front of the floor-length mirror. Her hands would trace the sloping curve, catching the waves elicited by the movements of the little human in her womb. At times, she would be grouchy, inwardly scoffing about how big she appeared and how bloated she felt. Her husband would be unnaturally sensitive about that, peppering kisses on the apex of her enlarging abdomen and muttering about the nonsense multimedia showed her about pregnancy. He would tell her that women are created to nurture life within and around them, and whatever mark those would left are odes to victory.

(He usually knows the right thing to say.)

This time, she dropped her bath robe on the floor and groaned as she gazed at her reflection.

Stretch marks already began threading against her pale skin. A dark line traversing her lower abdomen horizontally contrasted against them. Her umbilicus, while sunken, was evidently stretched. Eun Tak was not one to worry about physical appearances more than any woman, but drastic bodily changes were not really the most pleasant part in pregnancy.

Large, warm hands enveloped hers as her husband dropped a kiss on the angle of her neck. His thumb drew comforting circles against her skin, and a kick from her womb served as her child’s reply.

The only one who could make her feel better about her physical appearance these days held her from behind.

Kim Shin acted like it was the first time he saw a pregnant woman. He passed the time purchasing and reading books on childbirth and parenting. She would have into studying to become an obstetrician or counselor, but Eun Tak knew better to avoid any embarrassing declarations from her husband. (He was never meant for mundane things, it seemed.) He would worry when she would wake in the middle of the night to urinate, when she groaned about not having the best sleep, when she would get nauseated at the smell or sight of food, when she would work even minutes past her work time. He worried they would cross the street, or when the slightest draft would blow on them.

It was very endearing and irritating at the same time.

“Eun Tak-ah, your stomach is as beautiful as the ripest of watermelons on a harvest month.”

She had to admit, her husband had the most alluring voice of all the people she met, even with the most ridiculous things coming off his mouth.

“Kim Shin.”

He rested his chin against her shoulder.

“No y time for you this week.”

--

The section of baby clothes in the department store appeared like rainbow vomited all over it.

Eun Tak frowned at the ridiculous trend for baby’s clothes this season. While she’s listed clothes for her child in the baby shower registry hosted by her closest friends, she wanted to buy the first clothes her child is going to wear upon birth. Nearing her maternal leave, she decided to beat deadline after deadline, knowing her husband wouldn’t keep her and their child out of his sight for at least months.

Also, she didn’t trust her husband not to go over the top with his choice of baby’s clothes. She had to remind him time and again that their child isn’t walking down some runway anytime soon.

She took a beige jumper off the rack. With a hand on her abdomen, she asked, “Do you want to wear this?”

Only a slight wave of movement answered her.

Her child’s kicking had been a form of communication that she and her husband couldn’t enough of. These days, she would be woken by kicks on her abdomen as her husband talked about everything to their child in the early hours of the morning. At times, he would spout promises only he could do because he is a goblin. At times, he would speak of their old lives, and a soft kick would brush her husband’s cheek in comfort. At times, he would ask the child about the most random of things, and yeses would correspond to a series of kicks.

She was about to grab the next item on the rack when someone bumped on the underside of her abdomen.

“Oomph,” a small voice said. “Sorry.”

Stepping back, Eun Tak saw a child that merely reached her waist. He was rubbing his forehead as a pout decorated his red lips.

“I’m sorry too. Are you alright?” She reached a hand, brushing his hair back. “My stomach is too big. I didn’t see you.”

The child looked up, and at the back of her mind, Eun Tak knew she’s seen his features in another face. The dark, round eyes that are framed with long lashes. The plumpness of his cheek. The lips. The slight curl of his hair. The angle of his jaw. The confidence by which he held himself.

“Geun-ah!” A baritone voice called, and the child looked towards the direction of the voice.

Eun Tak had to blink to control the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

Wang Yeo was walking towards them, his look of worry melting into exasperation as he waited his son to reach him. The man lowered himself, and Geun – the child – held on his neck like a lost animal. The father and son whispered back and forth, and the child pointed at her. Her breath hitched as her old friend, who she never thought she would see again, approached her.

“I’m Lee Hyuk, Geun’s father. I apologize for my son’s interruption,” he courteously bowed, and Eun Tak almost reached for him.

“It’s alright. There’s no harm done,” Eun Tak replied, smiling as she bit her lip. “He’s a very polite kid.”

Her old friend’s smile was blindingly bright. She wondered about the last time he saw that smile, when he gifted her a bouquet of buckwheat flowers for her old wedding.

“I’m glad he is. My wife would kill me if he isn’t.” She had to laugh at how casually he said the word kill, when he was so sensitive of it lifetimes ago. His gaze dropped to her protruding abdomen. “Your first child?”

Eun Tak nodded. “I was looking for my baby’s first clothes when he bumped to me.”

Father and son looked at each other. “I think we can recommend you a good place to start looking for,” Wang Yeo – now Lee Hyuk – said. He motioned for her to follow him.

Father and son led her to a boutique a few paces outside of the department store. The pale blue background of the store was calming to her eyes, and Eun Tak was easily drawn by the white and pastels on display.

“Omma, preg-ant!” Geun called, greeting someone from the counter.

It was just as she raised her head that she saw her old friend kissing another familiar face.

“First baby clothes?”

Her former boss spoke with the same tone of certainty, as if she knew what you came for. She appeared just as beautiful as she once was, but with a hint of maternal softness in her features. The old Kim Sun took a pair of clothes from the rack closest to her before passing it to her.

Eun Tak held the baby clothes in her hand, feeling the soft, lightweight material on her fingertips. She knew from her first look that she would purchase it.

“I have other choices, if you want to. Don’t be disarmed by my husband and son.”

Eun Tak shook her head, “Aniya. I like it. I will buy it. If you have other choices, I would like to see them as well.”

The former Kim Sun smiled.

She learned that Kim Sun – now Lee In Na – is formerly an actress, but now spent more time managing her businesses. Lee Hyuk would hang out at the store and care for their child when he has a free day from the precinct, and Geun is three years old. Eun Tak shared her woes to In Na, and the older woman avidly told her stories of her own pregnancy.

Eun Tak spent more time and money than she expected to spend, but nothing would match the happiness that she felt with the family she thought she and her husband lost. The Lee couple even gifted her the first clothes she decided to buy.

(She told them she would bring her husband along with her on her next visit.)

She couldn’t wait to tell Kim Shin about them.

--

The hours of pacing outside the maternal ward finally caught up with her husband.

Kim Shin curled himself protectively beside her on her hospital bed, holding her delicately to avoid adding to her post-labor pains.

Her labor went on for almost half a day, in which she nearly broke her husband’s hand as he barged into the hospital when the first of her true labor contractions came. (Being a goblin worked for him this time.) Labors for the first child could go on for hours, he quoted in the middle of a contraction, and for the first time in her life, she smacked his cheek.

She profusely apologized afterwards.

At two in the morning, she lay wide awake on her hospital bed. Sleep barely ended the tiredness she felt, but her body resisted. Instead, she closed her eyes, clearing her mind of the stresses that piled up in the past few hours.

Moments later, the air stirred with the beginning signs of a sob from their child.

In one swift motion, her husband was up and about, circling the bed to the other side. She opened her eyes slightly, watching as he carefully took the child’s small body from the bassinet and cradled the child against his chest. His body swayed with the sound of his murmurs, and he continued his ministrations until their child returned to her slumber.

As the breaths of their child returned into soft puffs, her husband caught her eye with a soft smile before dropping his watchful gaze into the small body that was half his and half hers.

They named her Da Hee, for hope.