ECSTATIC

Three Weeks LaterJune 30th; 2025Taylor Swift's Point of View My hand hovers over the bathroom counter, the familiar blue plastic glinting under the morning light. It's day 22. Three weeks of waking up, holding my breath, and peeing on a stick, knowing the inevitable white glare mocking me back. Not today. Today, the HCG levels could finally be high enough. Today will be different. (Same words I've been telling myself for weeks)

This is my favorite part, they tell me I'm crazy. I mean, it's our first time trying. But the anticipation, the coiled hope blooming in my chest – it's addicting. I close my eyes, picturing two pink lines, whispering a mantra to myself. "Positive, positive, positive." Come on, Travis' sperm, do your magic. You got this, Taylor.

The timer on my phone screams, shattering the quiet tension. I sprint towards the counter, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. With trembling fingers, I pick up the test. There. It's faint, almost invisible, but it's undeniably there. A second line. A positive test.

Tears well up, blurring my vision. I'm pregnant. Holy shit, I'm actually pregnant. Relief washes over me, warm and tidal. I grab the test again, staring at the line as if willing it to solidify. It's real. A choked sob escapes my lips, a laugh bubbling up through the tears.

My gaze drifts down to my stomach, a small, surprised chuckle escaping my lips. "Hello, little embryo," I whisper, a new warmth blooming in my core. This tiny flicker of life, a testament to me and Travis, to our hopes and dreams. It's a new chapter, a beautiful, terrifying unknown. But for now, in this sliver of morning light, all I feel is a fierce, exhilarating joy.

The bathroom door bursts open, almost comically wide, and I practically leap into the hallway, heart pounding a victory march against my ribs. Travis is by the coffee pot, sleep still clinging to his hair. I can't wait for the elaborate reveal I had planned – forget it! I need to share this now.

"Travis!" I yell, waving the pregnancy test like a triumphant flag. "Thank you, Travis Kelce and your one shot sperm!"

He whirls around, coffee mug halfway to his lips, brow furrowed in confusion. "Whoa, slow down there, what's gotten into you?"

"I can't hold it in!" I blurt, grinning like a maniac. "All those cute ways I planned to tell you? Out the window! Look!" I shove the test practically under his nose.

His eyes widen, then dart between me and the little plastic stick. "You're... you're pregnant?!"

"Pregnant!" I confirm, bouncing on the balls of my feet. "We did it! We're having a baby!"

A slow grin spreads across his face, mirroring my own. "Wait, seriously?" He reaches out, taking the test from me with reverence.  "Thank you, Taylor Swift and your super fertile eggs!"

The next thing I know, I'm airborne, swept into a dizzying spin. Laughter bubbles up from my chest as he twirls me around the kitchen. "I love you so much!" I yell, clinging to him.

"I love you more!" he shouts back, voice thick with emotion.  He sets me down, but his arms stay wrapped around me. "We're having a baby, Taylor!"

"We are!" I echo, tears welling up in my eyes.  This wasn't quite the reveal I envisioned, but the raw joy on his face erases any regret. This, right here, is perfect.

"I told you I was a one-shot wonder," he teases finally, a playful glint in his eyes as he releases me.

"Oh shut up," I swat him playfully on the arm, the smile still plastered on my face.

"Maybe you should take another one, just to be sure," he suggests, his voice laced with nervous excitement.

"Good idea," I agree, already dashing towards the bathroom. He's hot on my heels, practically vibrating with barely contained energy. Neither of us can seem to calm the giddy butterflies fluttering in our stomachs.

"Okay, wait out here," I instruct him, pointing a finger at him with a mock-stern expression. "This is a one-woman operation."

One test turns into three. I have to be absolutely certain. This isn't something I'm going to leave to chance.

"Ready?" Travis asks from the other side of the door, his voice barely a whisper.

"Ready," I whisper back. He pushes open the door a crack, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and trepidation. We wait, the silence in the bathroom thick enough to cut with a knife.

The silence stretches, punctuated only by the faint tick of the medicine cabinet hinge. My gaze fixates on the two pink lines on the test, identical twins to the ones that started this whole whirlwind. A single tear rolls down my cheek, a silent testament to the rollercoaster of emotions swirling inside me.

Finally, I can't hold it in any longer. A grin splits my face, wider than the Cheshire Cat's. "It's positive again!" I shout, my voice muffled by the bathroom door.

The silence on the other side is deafening for a beat, then explodes into joyous pandemonium. Travis throws his arms around the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges. "We're having a baby! We're really having a baby!" he yells, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy.

I laugh, tears welling up again. This time, they're a mixture of relief and pure, unbridled happiness. "Open the door, silly!" I tell him, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.

He fumbles with the knob for a moment, his excitement clearly hindering his motor skills. When the door finally swings open, he sweeps me into a crushing hug, the both of us giggling uncontrollably.

His voice explodes, "This is amazing!" He leans back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "We're going to have another kid!"

"We are," I whisper, the weight of the news settling on me. A baby. We're creating a life, a tiny human woven from both of us. My heart thrums a happy, nervous beat.

"When will I see the bump? What do we need? Nursery paint?" Travis fires questions in rapid succession, his excitement bubbling over.

"Calm down, Travis!" I laugh, a shaky sound. "It's only five weeks! Plenty of time to figure all that out."

He grabs my hand, his grin infectious. Before I know it, he's spinning me around the bathroom in a clumsy, joyous dance. My head spins, but my heart soars with his unbridled enthusiasm. We're having a baby. We're a growing family.

Travis' enthusiastic twirling comes to a halt as a small voice pierces the happy bubble. "Mommy? Daddy?" Joy peeks through the bathroom door, her brow furrowed in adorable confusion. "Why are you dancing in the bathroom?"

We freeze, caught mid-spin. Travis throws me a questioning glance. "Uhhhhh," he mutters, scratching the back of his head. "Do we tell her?"

My own hand flies to my stomach, not even a bump at this point, but suddenly very present in my consciousness. "I'm only a few weeks though," I whisper.

"How good is she at keeping secrets?" he asks, his voice laced with both excitement and trepidation.

"Surprisingly well, actually," I admit, remembering how she held onto the surprise of Travis's Christmas present for weeks.

Travis' face breaks into a wide grin. "Let's tell her then! She's part of this family, too." He reaches out a hand to Joy, who still stands in the doorway, her big eyes bouncing between the two of us.

"Okay," I agree, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought of sharing this news with our daughter.

"We'll tell you," Travis says, kneeling down to her level, "but you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." She promises. Together, we usher her out of the bathroom and onto the bed, settling ourselves on either side of her. Joy looks up at us expectantly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Remember how we talked about babies growing in a mommy's tummy?" he asks gently. "It's like little seeds waiting to become beautiful flowers?"

Joy nods, a spark of memory flickering in her eyes. "Uh-huh! And then they come out, right?"

"Exactly!" Travis beams. "Well, guess what? There's another little seed growing in Mommy's tummy right now!"

My hand rests on my stomach, the faintest hint of a bloated curve forming beneath my shirt. I offer Joy a reassuring smile.

"But Mommy already had a baby," Joy points out, a touch of confusion tinging her voice. "The one that left."

"That's right, honey," I say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "But sometimes, mommies get to grow more than one baby in their tummy."

"It's called being pregnant," Travis adds, placing a hand on top of mine. "It's like having a garden inside, where a brand new baby is getting ready to join our family."

Joy's brow furrows again. "I don't understand," she says, her voice small. "Why do we need a baby?"

A pang of concern shoots through me. "You don't have to want a baby, sweetie," I assure her, "but this new baby will be your sibling. Just like you have cousins to play with, you'll have a little brother or sister to share your toys and adventures with."

Travis takes over, his voice playful. "Think of it like having a built-in best friend who's always here to play!"

Joy chews on her lower lip, unconvinced. "But I don't want to share my toys," she whines, her eyes welling up.

"Oh, sweetie," I coo, scooping her into my lap. "You won't have to share all your toys, of course. There will be plenty of new ones for the baby, too! And who knows, maybe the baby will have some cool toys you can play with too?"

The idea of new toys seems to spark a flicker of interest in Joy's eyes. She wipes a stray tear with the back of her hand and sniffs.

Travis kneels in front of her, holding up a finger. "Here's the best part," he says, his voice conspiratorial. "This baby is a secret for now, just between the three of us. We get to be a special team, planning for its arrival. Like picking out a cute outfit for the baby to wear when it comes home."

Joy's frown flips upside down. The prospect of a secret, especially one that involves shopping, perks her right up. "A secret?" she whispers, her eyes wide.

"A secret," we confirm in unison, sealing the deal with a conspiratorial bump of fists.

"Can we get the baby a crown?" she asks, her voice filled with newfound excitement. "Like a princess?"

Travis throws his head back and laughs. "A crown? Now that's an idea. You and the baby can be the reigning princesses of the house if it's a girl."

The image of Joy, a tiny tiara perched on her head, bossing around a chubby-cheeked baby in a princess outfit, fills my heart with a warmth that rivals the morning sun. It might not be the smoothest transition, but with a little creativity and a whole lot of love, I know we can make this new chapter in our family's story an amazing one.

Joy claps her hands in delight, a wide grin replacing her earlier tears. "We can pick out a crown together!" she exclaims, bouncing in my lap.

Suddenly, a new thought strikes her. "But wait," she says, her brow furrowing again. "If the baby's a princess, does that mean I can't be the big sister anymore?"

Understanding dawns on me. Her initial resistance wasn't just about sharing toys, it was about potentially losing her special position in the family.

"Honey," I say gently, "being a big sister is the most important job in the whole world. You get to show the baby all about our house, our toys, and all the fun things we do. You'll be the best big sister ever!"

Travis chimes in, "Think of it like this: princesses and princes need protectors, right? You'll be the baby's personal superhero, keeping them safe and showing them the ropes."

The superhero analogy seems to do the trick. Joy puffs out her chest, a determined glint in her eyes. "A superhero big sister, huh? Okay, I can handle that. But the baby still needs a crown."

We erupt in laughter, the tension completely dissolved. As we hold each other close, a wave of love washes over me. This little girl, with her worries and her boundless enthusiasm, is about to become a big sister.

—————Author's Note:

BABIES

they're pregnant 🥰

Do you think it'll last *dramatic music*