Mommy Pregnant Caring
Control
Click or tap anywhere to begin your adventure!
c
Morning light filters through the blinds as Sofia stretches awake, one hand instinctively resting on the curve of her belly. The hum of the empty house feels heavier than usual—no clatter of dishes, no muffled news from the TV. She shuffles to the bathroom, splashing cool water on her face before brushing her teeth with slow, deliberate strokes. A loose braid keeps her hair off her neck as she changes into a soft linen dress, the fabric skimming her bump without pressure. Keys jingle in her hand while she double-checks the hospital documents folded in her bag, the routine ultrasound circled in bold. The driveway shimmers with midday heat as she locks the front door, pausing to steady herself against a sudden wave of dizziness before easing into the passenger seat. At the clinic, fluorescent lights buzz overhead as nurses usher her through corridors smelling of antiseptic. Paper crinkles beneath her when she lies back, the cold gel on her skin making her flinch. The rhythmic thump-thump of a tiny heartbeat floods the room, and she grips the edge of the exam table, breath catching. Hours later, she trudges back home, feet swollen and lower back throbbing. The fridge yawns open—eggs, wilted spinach, half an onion. She fries them into a quick frittata, seasoning it with a pinch of paprika from the jar nearly rusted shut. Dinner steams on the table as she sinks into the couch, one palm pressed where a heel just kicked. Shadows stretch across the walls, but the house stays quiet.
