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It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree.
First came the beautiful little girl with ebony hair and brilliant blue eyes. She absolutely terrified me at first. I didn’t think I was ready for her. I couldn’t convince myself that she’d be safe. I kept on picturing the Capitol rising up from the ashes, awaiting her birth with its dark hands, readying itself to pull her away from me. I could barely focus on the positives, focus on the good, all too frightened that I’d lose her before I could even meet her.
But then I held her. I held this squalling, tiny, perfect new life in my arms, and found that I could never let her go, that my embrace was her refuge. I fell in love, so incredibly in love, far deeper than I ever could have imagined. And in finally being with her, in having a complete, contented family with Peeta, it made me realize that things were good again.
No more were the days of having children torn mercilessly from their mothers. No more were the days of wanting to flee from it all, to run from the life I hadn’t even dreamed of. No more were the days of despair, of darkness, of agony.
She was a beacon, a product of Peeta and I’s love, an absolute light. And so I finally started to settle fully into peace, continuing to start anew.
Then, he came. A wonderful little boy with golden locks and an ashy grey stare. He was a bit easier. I knew what to expect, knew what was coming. And after raising her for a few years, I felt way more secure about his safety, way more confident that I could provide the world for him. For him and his sister both.
As I watch them dance about before me, their laughter and excited shrieks forming a melody with the noises of the meadow, I feel like I’ve done just that.
I smile warmly as I watch over them, an entirely contented sigh puffing from my nose. It’s actually quite strange to be thinking about all of this. I almost can’t believe it’s real sometimes. Fifteen years ago, I never would have envisioned myself this happy, this at ease, this alright with my reality.
I never would have thought of a dancing girl of my own, twirling and swirling about a blanket of flowers without a care in the world. I never would have thought of a smaller boy chasing after her, giggling at the tickle of plants and the squish of mud beneath his feet.
And I never would have thought about a third, another pure little life, growing deep within me, stirring from the noise of his or hers siblings.
My smile somehow manages to grow even warmer. Three. Three children. Never in my wildest dreams.
But here we are, here I am, two with another on the way and…
A soft kiss to my temple momentarily breaks my thoughts, but only adds to the width of my smile. His gentle hands move up on their journey, addressing my tense shoulders, my neck muscles, with massages. The heat of his smile is clearly evident as well, his being sunnier than the very light in the sky.
…And the most loving, wonderful, incredible man by my side to match.
Peeta.
Turning my thoughts towards him gets me a bit more emotional, a slight glaze settling at the bottom of my eyes.
He gave me this. He gave me peace I didn’t even know I could find. He and I created this life together, these children together. He turned absolutely everything around, making even the darkest aspects of myself bright again.
He opened my eyes up towards life again, made me realize what I’ve been looking for deep down all along. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else. No one could even come close to making me feel how he does. I wouldn’t want to share this place, these children, this life, with anyone but him.
He’s my dandelion, my restoration of hope and happiness.
I love him deeper than I ever thought possible.
I sigh again, subconsciously leaning back into his touch and snuggling up against him. He lets out a soft chuckle, before nuzzling his face against my collar, sending droves of warm tingles throughout my form.
There are so many things I could say to him in this moment. Thank you, for the life you’ve given me. I appreciate you more than you know. You’re everything to me. Even after all this time though, I’m still not the best at saying something. So I settle on the three words that carry all the weight of my gratitude and affection anyway.
“I love you…”
I feel his lips tip upwards even more, before he presses a gentle kiss to my skin.
“I love you too…”
With wonderful timing, our baby settled deep inside me seems to voice its happiness too, wiggling softly against the walls that encase it. I’m no longer scared by this; rather, I’m fascinated, relieved, my smile growing all the more sunny.
“She’s moving again…”
Peeta shifts behind me, his hands snaking around to rest upon my ample stomach. I rest my hands beside his, the two of us reveling in the feeling of our unborn making its presence known. Tiny bumps and flutters are felt on the surface, causing Peeta to chuckle once more.
“It’s so incredible to actually feel those little kicks,” he murmurs, beginning to rub tender circles, “I could just sit here like this all day, holding the two of you close.”
“Enjoy it while you can, Peeta. I don’t think we have too much of this left.”
“Maybe not. I think actually getting to hold him will compensate for that though. That’s always the best feeling too.”
My eyes, which had slowly fluttered shut in contentment, reveal themselves again, my head pivoting slightly to look at my husband.
“Him?”
“Hmm, I guess you have your bets and I have mine,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my cheek, “But you know I’ll adore our little one no matter what.”
“I know…”
The first few years I knew Peeta, I couldn’t even remotely put my feelings towards him into words. It was hard enough just to say “I love you.” Now however, with the two of us married and settled in the meadow with almost three children…What I say slides off the tongue with hardly any resistance at all.
“Like how I adore you…”
Even after all this time, the look on Peeta’s face when I profess my love is everything, lighting up and sparkling like I’m saying this for the first time. He snickers a bit, his cheeks flushing as he shyly hangs his head, before moving over more to my side. When I pivot more to better gaze at him, he slips his hands against my cheeks, softly pulling my face towards his.
“And how I utterly treasure you…I love you so much…” he murmurs against my lips, before joining our mouths fully.
We lazily, tenderly kiss, pouring all our love into the physical gesture. I keep one hand on my stomach, while reaching up lay the other on Peeta’s, connecting the three of us and sharing affections as a family. Of course, our family isn’t just composed of three, as a high-pitched groan is quick to remind us.
“Uggggggh!”
We’re quick to release our kiss and laugh, complying with our son’s distaste for physical affection.
“Later,” Peeta murmurs with a grin.
“Later,” I reaffirm, giving him one last peck before turning my attention out towards the meadow.
Rye is standing a bit away, but still looking at us with intense five year old disapproval. I cannot help but chuckle at the sight, shaking my head at him. Peeta however, is quick to remedy his grumpiness.
“Is someone ready to eat?”
Instantly, his grouchy demeanor melts away, and is replaced with giddy, wiggly excitement.
“Yeah!” he shrieks, and I laugh, completely understanding his enthusiasm for his father’s baked goods.
“Go get your sister, Little Dandelion.” I barely have time to finish his nickname before he’s running off to grab Willow, rounding her up to start our family picnic.
As Peeta begins to set things out on our blanket, they’re both quick to run over, smiling cheesy smiles and warming my heart like they always do. Rye unsurprisingly runs straight to Peeta, or straight to the food rather, eagerly watching his father prepare various breads, cheeses, and fruits. Willow sets herself down beside me, and I’m quick to start running my fingers through her dark locks.
“Hi, Momma…”
“Hi…Were you having fun?”
She nods with a small smile, cuddling against me.
“Yeah. I saw you and Daddy touching your tummy again. Was the baby moving?”
“Mhmm. Still is.”
I gently grasp one of her hands and splay it over my stomach, the two of us waiting for a kick or punch. Seeing as our third is quick to deliver, giggles are also quick to escape us. Willow snuggles even closer, resting her head on my stomach as she continues to feel.
“Hi, baby!” she says, “Can you hear me?”
The squirms don’t let up, my womb alight with life, my heart aflame with love. I love watching Willow like this. She didn’t quite grasp the concept of an unborn baby when Rye was on the way; she was more interested in other things. Now however…She takes the time to talk, sing, and interact with her sibling-to-be in any way that she can. And it’s so wonderful. I love seeing her so happy, love seeing my family so happy.
“I can’t hear you. I can feel you though! I hope you’re a little sister.”
I cannot help but laugh, even more so when Peeta looks up from his picnicking activities with a jokingly-exasperated expression.
“…What?”
“That makes two of us,” I murmur down to my daughter, all the while eyeing my husband with a teasing glimmer to my stare.
Peeta narrows his eyes, before turning to Rye, trying to recruit him to his cause.
“Hey, buddy, what do you think? Do you want a new baby sister, or a new baby brother?”
Rye looks up from his food, staring between Peeta and I with his inquisitive baby greys. He seems to ponder Peeta’s question for a moment, before breaking into a toothy grin.
“I want cheese buns!”
Glad I share such a connection with my children.
We burst out laughing, the joyous noise carrying out across the landscape. Willow eyes us curiously, but Rye giggles as well, oblivious but clearly proud of himself.
“Again, that makes two of us,” I chuckle.
Peeta shakes his head, sighing but continuing to laugh all the while.
“Guess I’ll go with the popular vote then,” he says with a grin, and starts to prepare plates for everyone, making sure to give Rye and I extra cheese buns.
The moment he hands our children their food, they’re quick to dig in, shutting everything else out as they enjoy the riches of our picnic. Although Peeta hands me a plate, I don’t eat right away; there will be plenty of time to do so. Instead, I take a moment to continue watching Willow and Rye.
I should be used to this by now. Fifteen years should make it something of normalcy. I guess the fact that all of this is normal now, is what continues to make me emotional.
Our children will never have to go hungry. They’ll never have to know suffering. They’ll always be in a wonderful environment just like this one. They’ll always have a warm shelter over their head, warm food in their bellies, and warm arms to hold them.
They’ll have to learn what Peeta and I faced at some point, sure. Willow is probably almost old enough to have a few things explained to her. But they’ll never, ever experience it for themselves. It’s a thing of history for them, and a thing of the past for Peeta and I.
I didn’t even realize I had teared up until I feel my husband’s hand lay softly atop mine, giving a gentle squeeze and tugging me from my thoughts. I look up to see him offering a soft smile, his blue stare searching through my glassy grey. We silently share thoughts, and I know he doesn’t have to ask. Nothing needs to be said between us. He understands perfectly.
I quickly reach up to dab my tears away, and Peeta scoots to my side, threading an arm around me and holding me close. I let out another sigh, my head lulling to rest upon his shoulder, my eyes fluttering shut, and my hands clasping atop my stomach.
There I remain, basking in the golden glow of the setting sun, appreciating the presence of my happy, healthy family, savoring this beautiful turn life has taken. The little chatters and giggles of my children, the kisses and tenderness from my husband, the promise of new life within…Everything’s good. Everything’s so incredibly good.
It strangely takes me back so many years, when Peeta and I were younger. It teleports me back in time to the two of us sitting on a rooftop, savoring an incredibly rare moment of peace. I think I can recall Peeta saying something about wanting to freeze the moment, and wanting to live in it forever.
And now…we actually can. We actually are. We’re living perpetually in the peace he and I were fighting so hard to hold onto.
Well, that is until a ravenous little five year old speaks up again, severing the calm in the best kind of way.
“Mommy? Are you going to eat your cheese buns?” And I don’t even get a moment to reply before he adds, “Can I have them?”