Ho Ho Holy Shit

One Week LaterDecember 24th; 2025Taylor Swift's Point of ViewTravis and I sit side by side on the edge of Zoë's bed, the soft glow of her nightlight casting a warm halo around the room. The house smells like pine and cookies, remnants of our Christmas Eve festivities, and it feels almost magical in this little moment of quiet. Zoë lies under her blanket, her big eyes wide with wonder as Travis reads to her.

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when through all the house. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse," Travis reads in his deep, steady voice, holding the book open so Zoë can see the illustrations.

I rest one hand over my very active belly, the baby kicking softly as if he's listening too. My other hand gently brushes Zoë's golden curls out of her face, her cheeks rosy from the excitement of the day. She's clutching a small stuffed reindeer we gave her earlier, her fingers curling tightly around it.

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there," Travis continues, glancing over at me with a soft smile before returning to the story.

Zoë's lips part slightly as she whispers, "Santa coming?"

"Of course he is," I reply, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "But only if you close your eyes and go to sleep soon. Santa doesn't visit when little ones are awake."

She nods solemnly, her little hand reaching up to hold mine as she settles deeper into her blankets. "Okay," she murmurs, though her eyes are still fixed on the book.

Travis reads on, his voice weaving the timeless magic of the poem. The rhythmic words fill the room, wrapping us all in the cozy, nostalgic spirit of Christmas. For a moment, the world outside fades away, and it's just the three of us—and soon to be four—sharing this perfect little slice of holiday magic.

"But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, 'Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night,'" Travis finishes, his voice soft as he closes the book with a quiet thud.

Zoë is sound asleep, her little hand still loosely wrapped around mine. Carefully, I slip my fingers free, trying not to wake her. Her peaceful expression makes my heart swell, and I lean down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Travis offers me his hand, and I gratefully take it as he helps me off the bed. At this stage of pregnancy, I feel like I've inherited the center of gravity of a cow balancing a giant watermelon, so every bit of assistance helps.

We tiptoe out of the room, and once the door is softly closed, Travis rubs his hands together with a mischievous grin. "Ready to make it look like Santa came?"

I chuckle, shaking my head at his enthusiasm. "You've been waiting for this all day, haven't you?"

"Are you kidding? I've been waiting for this since last Christmas," he says, grabbing the bag of presents we stashed earlier. "Come on, it's go time."

As we head to the living room, I can't help but smile at his excitement. We set to work, carefully arranging Zoë's gifts under the tree, eating a few of the cookies we left out for "Santa," and sprinkling flour on the floor to make it look like snowy boot prints.

Travis stands back, hands on his hips, surveying our handiwork. "It's perfect. She's going to flip when she sees this in the morning."

I lean against the couch, one hand on my belly as the baby gives me a strong kick. "If I can survive until morning," I joke.

He comes over, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "You've got this. And hey, I'm on Santa duty. You just relax."

I rest my head against him, letting out a contented sigh. "Merry Christmas, Travis."

"Merry Christmas, Taylor."

"Make sure you move the Elf on the Shelf," I say, pointing toward the little troublemaker perched on the bookshelf. "He's been lazy lately."

Travis gives me a mock-offended look. "I've been busy! What have you been doing?"

I raise an eyebrow and gesture dramatically at my enormous belly. "I've been pregnant!"

He chuckles, grabbing the elf and inspecting it like it's somehow his fault. "Fair point. But to be fair, I've been doing most of Santa's heavy lifting."

I smirk, crossing my arms. "Oh, really? Who did all the Christmas shopping? And wrapped all the presents?"

"You delegated," he teases, placing the elf in a new spot on top of the TV stand. "You're the brains of this operation, and I'm the brawn. We're a team."

I roll my eyes, but I can't hide my smile. "Fine. But you'd better make sure that elf looks busy tomorrow. Zoë's been taking notes."

Travis gives the elf a stern look. "You hear that, buddy? No slacking. Your job's on the line."

I laugh, leaning back against the couch. "Poor guy. He didn't sign up for this level of scrutiny."

"Well, neither did I, but here we are," he says, grinning as he sits beside me.

A small cramping pressure hits me in my lower back, and I pause, resting a hand on the couch as I take a deep breath. "Braxton Hicks," I sigh, brushing it off like it's nothing.

Travis immediately perks up, his eyes narrowing with concern. "You sure?"

I nod, straightening up. "I'm not having the baby on Christmas. I'm sure."

"Whatever you say," he replies, though the skepticism in his voice is obvious.

We finish setting up for "Santa" and eventually head upstairs to bed, exhaustion pulling at us both. I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow, but of course, that peace doesn't last long.

At precisely five in the morning, Zoë bursts into our room, climbing onto the bed with her usual toddler energy. "Wake up! Santa came! Presents!" she squeals, bouncing on the mattress like it's a trampoline.

Travis groans, pulling a pillow over his face. "Why does she have so much energy this early?"

I rub my eyes, already resigning myself to the inevitable. "Because it's Christmas and she's three. Come on, let's get up before she starts unwrapping everything herself."

He tosses the pillow aside with a dramatic sigh. "Alright, alright. Let's do this."

We both drag ourselves out of bed, bleary-eyed but smiling because we love her. By the time we make it to the living room, Zoë is already halfway through tearing into her first present. The sight of her pure joy makes the early wake-up call completely worth it.

As we settle onto the couch, the cramping pressure hits me again, sharper this time, catching me completely off guard. I freeze, my breath hitching as the pain radiates through my lower back. My hand instinctively grips the couch cushion, knuckles whitening as I wince.

"Taylor?" Travis's voice is instantly laced with concern. He moves closer, his hand resting gently on my arm. "What's wrong? Is it just Braxton Hicks again?"

I force myself to take a deep breath, trying to relax, but my body isn't convinced. "I—I think so," I say, though the words come out less certain than before.

"Are you sure?" He shifts to face me fully, his brows furrowed.

"I mean, probably..." I trail off, unable to ignore how much stronger this one feels. "It's just worse this time. But it'll pass. It has to. I'm not having this baby on Christmas."

Travis raises an eyebrow, his skepticism growing. "Taylor, maybe we should time these. Just in case."

I shake my head, determined to believe it's nothing. "I'm fine. Let's just focus on Zoë. It's her Christmas morning."

"Okay," Travis says, his voice gentle but firm. "But if anything changes, please tell me."

I nod, though I can tell by the look on his face he's not entirely convinced. Still, I turn my attention to Zoë, who's in the middle of ripping into her next present with uncontainable excitement.

"What did Santa get you, Zo Zo?" I ask, hoping to distract myself.

"Santa got me bike!" she shouts, her face lighting up as she jumps up and down beside the shiny pink bicycle.

"Wow!" I exclaim, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"And look!" she says, running to grab a doll from another box. She carefully clips it into the tiny seat attached behind the bike.

"The bike has a seat for your dolls?" I ask, feigning surprise.

Zoë beams, nodding eagerly. "I can take dolls!"

"That's amazing, baby," I say, feeling a genuine smile spread across my face.

Travis chuckles beside me, watching her as she starts pedaling around the living room, her doll wobbling slightly but staying put. "She's got places to be, apparently."

"Important toddler business," I joke, leaning back on the couch. For a moment, the joy of Christmas morning eases the tension in my back. But deep down, I can't ignore the subtle tightening that's starting to feel less like Braxton Hicks and more like something else.

"Be careful, Zo Zo!" Travis calls out, his dad instincts kicking in.

"I will!" she replies confidently, her little legs pedaling furiously.

As if on cue, the bike veers slightly off course, and she bumps into the side table. The impact is just enough to send the vase teetering before it crashes to the floor, shattering into a dozen pieces. Zoë freezes, her big eyes filling with guilt. "Sorry..." she mumbles, looking between us and the mess.

I take a deep breath, my hand instinctively resting on my belly as I fight the urge to react too strongly. "It's okay, honey," I say gently, getting up as carefully as my pregnant body will allow. "You didn't mean to. Let's just get it cleaned up, and maybe we'll keep the bike outside from now on."

Travis is already grabbing the broom and dustpan, crouching down to sweep up the shards. "It happens, Zo. No big deal."

Zoë nods solemnly, her lower lip quivering slightly. "I be careful next time."

I kneel down beside her, despite the ache in my back, and pull her into a hug. "It's alright, sweetie. Accidents happen. But we'll have to make sure your bike has more room to ride, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy," she says softly, hugging me back.

Travis finishes cleaning up and flashes us a smile. "Crisis averted. Now, who's ready for more presents?"

Zoë's face brightens instantly, and she hops back to the tree, her earlier guilt already forgotten. As I carefully sit back down,

The pressure returns, stronger this time, and I clench my jaw, closing my eyes as I try to breathe through it. Travis glances over, his brows furrowing with concern, and I can already tell what's coming before he even opens his mouth.

He sighs, sitting down beside me and resting a hand on my arm. "Taylor..."

"I'm fine, Travis," I insist, though my voice lacks conviction.

"Taylor," he says gently, his tone steady but firm. "You're in labor."

I shake my head, refusing to accept it. "It's Christmas."

He gives me a knowing look, one corner of his mouth twitching into a wry smile. "The baby clearly doesn't care."

I exhale sharply, half in frustration and half from the lingering pressure in my back. "This cannot be happening right now. I'm eight days overdue—couldn't he wait just one more day?"

Travis squeezes my hand. "It's happening, whether we're ready or not. Let's just make a plan and get to the hospital."

I glance at Zoë, who's completely immersed in unwrapping another present, blissfully unaware of the impending chaos. "We can't just leave her on Christmas morning."

"We'll call Ryan and Blake," Travis says without missing a beat. "They'll come over and finish Christmas with Zoë."

I hesitate, feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation. "What if it's just more Braxton Hicks?"

He raises an eyebrow. "And what if it's not? Let's not wait too long to find out."

I bite my lip, trying to fight the inevitable, but deep down, I know he's right. "Fine. Call Ryan. But I swear, if this is a false alarm, I'm making you clean up every single piece of wrapping paper."

"I promise," he says with a grin, already reaching for his phone.

I push myself off the couch, trying to ignore the pressure that's building. I need water—something to distract me—but the moment I take a step toward the kitchen, I feel it.

"Travis!" I yell, my voice tinged with panic.

He's immediately at my side, his expression going from concerned to alarmed. "What?"

"My water broke." I look at him, wide-eyed and trying to steady my breath.

His eyes widen, but he doesn't hesitate. "Okay. Okay, we need to go. Now."

I grab onto the edge of the counter for support, trying to focus on the fact that it's finally happening, despite how chaotic it feels.

"Travis..." I breathe, trying to push through the overwhelming sense of urgency. "I'm not ready. This wasn't the plan. It's Christmas, it's Zoë..."

He places a hand on my back, calming, but firm. "I know, but we've got this. Ryan's on the way to the hospital to pick up Zoë. We're going to the hospital. Right now."

I nod, trying to pull myself together, but the pain is already starting to intensify. "Okay. Let's go."

Travis helps me toward the door, his hand never leaving my side as we make our way to the car. There's no turning back now.

A couple of minutes later, I'm sitting in the passenger seat of the car, but all I can hear is Zoë's wailing from the backseat. Travis is trying everything he can to calm her down, but she's having none of it.

"I know, I'm so sorry, Zo Zo. We'll make it up to you, I promise," he says, his voice strained as he keeps glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

"What's wrong?" I ask, still trying to collect myself as the contractions keep coming, one after the other.

"I mean, we're leaving in the middle of Christmas morning," Travis says, exhaling in frustration. "She's pissed about it."

I glance over at the backseat, where Zoë's face is scrunched up in a full-on tantrum. She's not happy, and I get it. We're supposed to be enjoying presents and all the magic of Christmas, and here we are, heading to the hospital.

"I'm sorry, Zo Zo," I say, my voice soft but apologetic. "Mommy is having the baby. We have to go."

Of course, she's not very understanding, to say the least. Zoë keeps crying, her small fists balled up in frustration as she kicks the seat.

Travis looks over at me with a helpless expression, clearly torn. "This isn't how I imagined our Christmas going."

I reach over and squeeze his hand, even though I can barely find the energy to do much more. "I know. But we'll make it work."

Zoë's cries don't stop, but as we drive through the  streets, the weight of the situation settles in. It may not be the Christmas we planned, but it's the one we'll remember forever.

—————Author's Note:

We get to meet baby next chapter!