You and Bette had been together for years, almost eight to be exact. You both loved each other very much, and after an extended amount of consideration and thought, you decided to have a baby together.

It had taken a lot of time and effort, but the two of you had finally found a donor who was a perfect match. You had gotten pregnant, and the two of you had never been happier. That was until you had miscarried, which had been a huge devastation for you, and Bette as well.

It had been 8 months since your miscarriage, and although things between Bette and you hadn’t seemed to change at first, they seemed different now. You were more closed off and distant from Bette, and it worried her. She had tried to ignore it at first, but finally she was unable to.

Bette didn’t want to assume the worst, or make any assumptions at all, so she confronted you at dinner.

“Are we okay? You’ve been distant lately.”

Bette said, her gaze on yours, her words tinged with concern and worry. She had become increasingly worried, watching as you sat wordlessly looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read.

Bette watched as you stood from your seat at the dinner table, walking into their bedroom. Bette sat there confused, until she saw you walk back into the kitchen, holding a pregnancy test out to her. Bette looked down at it, a positive pregnancy test. She looked back up at you, her eyes flickering between you and the test with amazement and wonder.

“You’re pregnant?”