The Calm Before The storm.

                                    

                                          
[A/N: Well, we're here at the end of Céline's pregnancy! This will most likely be the last chapter, before Amala's birth. So get excited everyone! Soon we'll be seeing them with a little newborn, for now. Enjoy. ~Jaded]
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Celine's POV
                          
If, at any point in this pregnancy I'd ever seemed miserable... It was nothing, compared to being a week away from my due date. 
                          
Amala and I were both healthy, although, I was still getting sick on a pretty regular basis. The colds had finally slowed down, and I almost felt normal again.
                          
"Céline, you should be resting." I heard my mother's voice as she came into my bedroom, and sighed softly. 
                          
They'd all been basically confining me to my bed, unless I was performing. I knew they were only doing it out of worry, but it was growing irritating.
                          
"Maman," I sighed out, I knew she was merely being cautious. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions off and on, for a few weeks now. 
                          
Being 39 weeks pregnant, it wasn't surprising, my body was trying to prepare for the inevitable. By this point, I was ready for this baby to be here. 
                          
It was desperately cold in Montreal this winter, and yet I was constantly overheating due to my body working extra hard. 
                          
"No arguing my little one," she says simply and ushers me back into bed. Just as I'm getting settled, a Braxton Hicks contraction hits. 
                          
It's not exactly pleasant, but it's not excruciating either. Like, a slightly more intense menstrual cramp. 
                          
I merely breathe deeply through it, and shake it off only moments later. They don't last long, and they're very few and far between. 
                          
Still, I write it down in the journal I keep next to me at all times. Maman checks me over, asking if I need anything. I shake my head, and mention I just want a nap. 
                          
"I'll go get René then," she says, and quickly leaves the room. Knowing I don't sleep anymore, without him with me. I'm left in the silence of our bedroom. 
                          
A few precious moments alone, with our little one, who would soon make her way into the world. She stretches, and I wince softly. 
                          
As she's gotten bigger, her movements have been more painful. Not that I would complain one little bit, I was just so pleased to see her growing and happy. 
                          
"What do you think Lovey? Are we ready to do this whole, birth thing?" I ask quietly, receiving a sharp little kick to the ribs in response. 
                          
She'd settled into the correct position only a few weeks ago, and it made all of us thankful. The less time needed to recover, the better. 
                          
"How are my girls doing?" The question comes in my husbands low, scratchy voice, and I smile faintly. Truly, I am more exhausted than anything at this point. 
                          
"Maman and Lovey are tired, Papa. Come lay with us?" I know my voice comes out a bit high, and childish. A sleepy sort of thickness in it.
                          
Which only serves to make him smile brightly, he adores seeing me like this. At the mercy of my body, and my hormones. Completely controlled by our daughter, in a sense.
                          
He comes over, and slips into his side of the bed. Fitting himself against me, so that I don't have to move. Because, as we'd figured out, the further along I got.
                          
The harder it was for me to roll over, to really move or get comfortable. He leans in, and presses a soft kiss to my hair. 
                          
"Get some rest now, mon amour. I'm here." I turn my face into his chest, and close my eyes. So tired, so incredibly not myself.