(Slightly based off of the first few months of my pregnancy so far)

Welcome to the world, my child, Constant as the stars above, always know that you are loved.

-Kylelover101

Title: Constant As The Stars Above

Summary: Constant as the stars above, always know that you are loved. To our son, Ponyboy, on his first birthday with love forever, Mama and Daddy.

Rating: T (just to be safe)

Constant as the stars above
Always know that you are loved

The First Month

One morning I woke up sick to my stomach. It's probably the fish I cooked last night, it's probably the summer heat, it's probably the wine I drank last night with my husband as we danced to a slow song in the living room and I'm just experiencing a hangover, but I had only half a glass. Oh, did I feel sick.

He pestered me enough to make me agree to see a doctor, we paid money to hear the doctor say what I've been telling him.

"It's more than likely a heat-illness, it'll go away if you get plenty of rest in a cool room." He prescribed some Asprin and we arrived home quickly enough for me to make another run for the bathroom.

And my love shining in you
Will help you make your dreams come true

The Second Month

My Sunday dress doesn't fit anymore. I stand horrified in the mirror in our bedroom, gazing at the rip in the seam along the lace, it can't be fixed and it's making me more upset than I really should be.

"Honey, are you ready? We'll be late for church!" He called downstairs.

With tears in my eyes I walk downstairs and he asks what's wrong. When I cry out that I'm fat, he just laughs and says I look beautiful. I still have nothing to wear to church and he just smiles.

"Well, The Lord knows we love him, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we stay home and read the bible we have here." He replies. He always knew what to say to me when I felt upset, he knew just what to say to make me smiling again, one of the many reasons I fell in love with him.

I'm starting to realize that maybe this isn't just any illness. Sick in the early mornings and afternoons only and this "fat" I'm gaining around my stomach area feels slightly hard when I gently press. It's off for a trip to the doctor's for a pregnancy test.

I'm ecstatic when the results come back positive.

I tell my husband at dinner time and he nearly chokes on his chicken.

lamb lies down and rests it's head
On it's mother's downy bed

The Third Month

I'm not showing much, but when I turn I can see the start of a bulge on my stomach. I always feel nervous in front of the mirror; it's scary to think there will be a tiny human being inside of me, living off of my every move, relying on my heart beat for reassurance.

Whenever my husband sees the worried look on my face, he softly kissed my cheek, my neck, and wrapped his arms around me.

"A baby, for you and me." He'd smile. "A little boy."

I rolled my eyes. "A Girl."

"Either is fine, but this town will be full of women, I'm the only guy now, no one will get the satisfaction of looking at my little girl." He growled.

I was worried at first, but seeing him poke at my belly, waving hello just makes me laugh.

"You're going to spoil our child rotten."

"Good kids deserve to be," He takes my hand. "Thank you. . . ."

"For what?" I ask.

He smiled, softly. "I'm surprised you don't realize how much you've given me."

Dolphin plays in the moonlight's glow
And butterfly dreams of a violet rose
Dreams of a violet rose

The Fourth Month

We told everyone we knew about the arrival of our baby coming soon in the cold month of February as the warm summer days come to an end, my feet swell and I crave rhubarb pie with peanut butter. . . . at three in the morning. Our home becomes a buzz of activity, more than usual as ladies I knew from church, social gatherings and around town are invited over for dinner one night. We talk, sip tea and allow our dresses to hide our ankles.

"You sweet child, you're still so young!" The oldest, Ms. Mallona, my deceased mother's best friend spoke. "I can hardly image the stress you'll deal with. But trust me, it will be worth it."

I nod, ignoring her comment. Ms. Mallona may be my mother's best friend, but she had nannies take care of her children, I feel it's best to ignore her advice on parenting. Other friends, however tell me about upcoming surprises that may or may not give me nightmares.

"Oh, you think your feet hurt now? Just wait till you're waddling."

"I never lost a single pound of my pregnancy and my child is nearly four!"

"You're going to still have morning sickness at least until the fifth month."

"You'll need to think of schools, baptisms and buy clothes for the first year, or it's shopping every day."

"Hire a full time baby sitter, you'll need time for yourself" (Ms. Mallona is still being ignored)

"Oh, your back will hurt."

"Your beloved clothes will never fit."

"That baby will cry non stop for the first two weeks."

I smile and just nod and silently sip my tea, letting the fear sink in, wishing I had at least begged my husband into staying. Still, he had the right idea of going to a bar with the husbands.

I'll cradle you in my arms tonight
As sun embraces the moonlight

The Sixth Month.

A strike of paranoia comes to me one day, thankfully my husband is here at home as he finds me crying in our room.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

My mother died when I was still very young, I soon forgot her smell, her face, her voice, the soft hands when she hugged me or the gentle kisses she gave goodnight. I was forgetting the littlest things about my mother and it frightened me. Somehow, I was convinced that because of this, I was going to be a bad mother. I was going to screw up somehow and my child will hate me.

My biggest fear was no longer loosing my home, my valuables, but the loss of my child.

"You'll be a great mother." He smiled at me. "Do you know why?"

I shook my head.

"Because, you are a kind, loyal, compassionate, loving and hard-working human-being. You are carrying life inside of you that has to thrive off of your love in order to survive. If a time comes in which we do have to reprimand our child, we will explain, apologize and hold our child."

I looked at my loving husband with teary eyes.

"That's how we will raise our little one, how's that sound?"

I nodded.

"I love you," I cried.

He kissed my stomach. "I love you more."

The clouds will carry us off tonight
Our dreams will run deep like the sea
Our dreams will run deep like the sea

The Seventh Month

Today we found out you will be a little boy, much to my husband's amusement, I owe him a dollar thanks to you, little one.

We're sitting on the couch, I'm in his lap as we look at baby books.

"None of these sound original." He muttered. "I mean, sure, they sound tough for a little kid, but I want a name that no one will forget, I want our child to have a name so unique that society questions him;granted it'll be annoying, but image the look on their face when I prove them wrong." He grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't even want to know."

He laughed, skimming the book.

"Oh! Adrian sounds like a cool name."

I shrugged, "Adrian was the name of a guy who used to steal my lunch money when I was a kid."

He laughed nervously. "Okay, not that name, how about. . . .Alexander?"

"Nah, too common." I spoke.

"Maybe we should go with my mother's family name of Stanley, I mean, the only reason my name isn't Stanley is because my older brother is already named Stanley." He scratched his head.

I nodded. "Well, we'll keep that in mind. How about we pick out two names? When we look at our baby, than we'll know." I smiled.

He patted my tummy. "Hey, little guy, you like the sound of that?"

It's so weird to feel him move inside of me. It was a comfort in the middle of the night when I laid in bed, petting my stomach. It was like "our" time. I loved it. I yawned, stretching.

"Tired?" He asked.

"Not yet, just hand me a book." I asked, he reached on the book shelf behind him, pulling out my favorite book, the one with Stallions and Mustangs and-

I smiled.

That's it.

". . . . Ponyboy."

Constant as the stars above
Always know that you are loved

The Eight Month

It's a scare. I had a terrible accident, falling down the steps at home and now was hooked up to machines feeling contractions hitting me. I'm told to push, but I don't want to. I'm just too scared, it's too early for my little Pony. It's not time for him to come to the world yet. I knew I should have stayed in bed, I should have listened to my husband, but no, I JUST HAD to go downstairs for a book, now I'm having pre-mature contractions

And it's all my fault.

I'm a nervous wreck.

My husband is by my side, he keeps telling me it's not my fault but his accusations fall on deaf ears as I cry in pain.

It's a long six hours, I'm in pain, more pain than any cut, burn, or smashed finger could have ever given me.

And On one of the scariest, painful, most beautiful days I've ever experienced: Four pounds, three oz. Little Ponyboy is laid on my chest. His little hands shivering, his eyes barley blinking open and his body shivering as my husband wrapped a tiny blanket around him.

"Ponyboy. . . ." I murmur, leaning my head against his to feel his soft, pink skin.

My little Pony.

And my love shining in you
Will help you make your dreams come true

Darry and Soda run into the room after Darrel lets them in, instantly rushing to my side.

"Baby! We wanna see Baby!" Soda screams, loudly.

Darry, equally excited tries not to act like it, but he can't hide the smile as I gently roll over, showing the two brother's their littlest brother.

"His name is Ponyboy Michael Curtis." Darrel smiled, patting both boys on the head. "Now, Ponyboy is little, so we gotta' be quiet."

Darry and Soda nodded.

"Okay, Daddy," Soda whispered.

Just then, Two-Bit "Keith" Matthews and Steve Randle run in with their mothers. They are Darry and Soda's friends and are equally excited to see little Ponyboy. I cuddled with my baby, sweet, sweet Ponyboy.

Forty years later shoes Ponyboy Curtis, a grown man in the basement of his own home where he has his own wife and children. He gently strokes his fingers along a silver baby hair brush.

Constant as the stars above, always know that you are loved. To our son, Ponyboy, on his first birthday with love forever, Mama and Daddy.

It's been nearly twenty-seven years since the accident and Ponyboy's heart was still tender about any subject about his parents. The bristles on the hair brush are still smooth, so his mother must not have used it often. It was more of a keepsake than a brush, really.

He smiled, putting the brush away in the box, went up-stairs and outside for just a second to smoke and star gaze.

"Constant as the stars above, eh?" He asked himself.

Than he smiled.

Constant. . . .Constant. . . .

Will help your dreams come true

All of the beginning was purely based on me; I thought this would be fun to write and it was. Please review :)

-Kylelover101