Soldier Peeta Mellark has been deported to Iraq to help fight in the war, leaving a heavily pregnant Katniss alone.

I'm still writing on my other story, Never Shall I Forget, I just like having two fanfictions going on at once. I sometimes get bored writing one so I pick up with writing another. My uncle has been deported when my cousin was born like 13 years ago, and so my aunt was alone with a ninetenth year old baby and a new born, but she had my grandmother to help her.

This is also modern day, like in America (or whatever country you live in) type modern day.

Peeta.

She doesn't know what is about to happen. Why should she? I didn't even expect it. I mean, I probably should have expected it when I signed the list saying I would be shipped off to war if needed too. They needed men, and being in the Military has been a goal of mine since I was a kid, I love working part time in my family's bakery, but I want to make a difference for our country. But why now? Why be deported now? Why when my 35 weeks pregnant wife is about to give birth very soon. In fact, at her last doctor's appointment, Dr. Drew had said the baby should be here any day in two more weeks. I remember that moment perfectly, Katniss and I both looked at each other and couldn't stop smiling knowing our daughter will soon be held safely in our arms.

I tread up the stairs after hanging up the phone, dreading the news I'll soon have to break to my wife, who has no idea what is about to hit her.

In the master bedroom, I can hear the shower still running. I imagine in my head how beautiful Katniss looks, with her long, wavy dark brown hair. Her stomach protrudes, at her 20 weeks mark she couldn't even see the tips of her toes, but yet the doctor stood by his word claiming there is only one baby inside, although several other women have commented that she could be carrying twins. The stretch marks that line all around. None of that matters, no matter how many stretch marks she has or how big she becomes, she's never been as beautiful as she is now. She practically is glowing, and the fact she is carrying my baby makes me smile dumbly at any given moment.

Over the water pouring into the shower, above it all I can still hear her beautiful voice singing. I can't make out what she's singing, but it sounds beautiful. I imagine the long nights when our daughter won't fall to sleep and Katniss sings to her and calm and soothe her down. I even sometimes fall asleep to Katniss singing to me. I only pray our unborn daughter has her singing voice and not my God-awful one. We haven't decided what to name her yet. Katniss wants to wait to name her when we meet her just to make sure her name properly fits her. My favorite name I have found so far is 'Haven', Haven Mellark. It has a ring to it, I haven't even proposed this name to Katniss yet.

I'm lost in my thoughts when Katniss opens the bathroom door with a thin towel wrapped around her body, the towel barely covers her butt as her stomach makes the towel expand to cover it.

"Enjoying the view?" Katniss asks in a sexy voice tone.

I quickly snap out of my thoughts and look up to her and once again dumbfound smile at her.

"The view has never looked better," I tease back.

I can't break the news to Katniss, her innocent laughter and smile is too much for me right now. The way her hair flows. I wonder if our daughter will have wavy dark brown hair like Katniss or if she will have light blonde hair like me.

Katniss walks, well wobbles, to our mahogany colored dresser where our night clothes are safely stored. She drops her towel and pulls one of my white t shirts over the top half of her body and pulling on one of my boxer shorts. I can only imagine what our first night home from the hospital would be like. That our daughter would be snuggled up against the both of us or if she would be in her cradle in her warm pink room I painted for her several months ago. The dark wood flooring with white paneling. Her pillows in the crib are all soon to be monogrammed, her comforter is almost like a quilt that had been sewed.

Katniss sits down on the right side of our king sized bed and swings her legs over so she can lay down. The past few weeks have been very uncomfortable for Katniss, having an ever growing baby bump. She used to wake up only two or three times to go to the bathroom, but now almost every thirty minutes she is getting up out of bed to use the bathroom or to shift sleeping positions and even on some occasions simple and sweet requests to make her some odd food she's craving.

We're both young parents, I just turned 23 in September and she is 22 turning 23 in May. We both married as soon as we graduated from high school. I haven't gone to college, I help run my family's bakery and obviously in the United States of America Military, something I have dreamed about doing my whole life, serving my country.

"What's wrong?" Katniss asks, once again stealing my attention away from my thoughts. She brings one of her hands to cradle on my cheeks. She makes sure to look at me directly in the eyes, this is how Katniss knows if I am lying to her in any way.

I sigh, "I need you to prepare yourself for this news," I tell her. Now it is this time I have both of my hands cradling her face, she brings up both of her hands to touch mine. I kiss her forehead before I start to talk. "Katniss, I'm being deported for Iraq next week."

She doesn't say a word. The room is dead silent. Katniss is quiet like a dead person would be. Tears prick in her reflective gray eyes, I wipe her tears almost as soon as the fall, not allowing them to slide down her rosy cheeks. "They can't do that," She chocks out in between her sobs.

"Shh," I comfort and pull her close to my body. As close as I can because her stomach adds so much distance between us, "I'll be back soon. I won't be over there for more than six months, I promise," I promise her that, even though I have no clue how long I'll be over there. As long as they keep needing men to fight I guess.

"You'll miss the birth of our daughter. Don't they know that?" She asks me, I see snot start to drip from her nose. She wipes the snot on the sleeve of my gray t shirt, I don't mind, knowing how scary this must all seem to her. Suddenly being asked to deliver a baby by herself. Katniss's dad died when she was eleven, during a mining accident. When she was fifteen and her sister Prim was eleven, she was crossing the street at a cross walk and a drunken driver hit her and killed her instantly. Her mother has completely checked out of this world, her mom moved in with her grandparents. With a newborn baby arriving very soon, Katniss's grandparents wouldn't exactly welcome her with open arms. And even my family, my two older brothers have moved away to California hoping to find success in acting. My dad likes Katniss, but would never tell her because my mother cannot stand her. My family doesn't even know she is pregnant, they'll be in for a real surprise when they find out. With really no family around to help, Katniss will raising our daughter almost by herself.

"There's nothing I can do about missing her birth." I tell her, "I'm positive on that part."

"Then what do you want to name her?" Katniss says, barely audible in her scratchy voice.

"I thought we weren't going to name her until we have seen her?" I ask confused.

She wipes her nose once again on my shirt, "Yeah, but you won't be there to name her with me."

"Haven, it means 'a place of safety'."

"I like it."

"Okay, you chose her middle name," I say and kiss the very tip of her nose.

"Faith. Haven Faith Mellark." She says stating our daughters new and official full name.

Katniss

Over the course of the next week, I am always at Peeta's side. We do everything together, cook breakfast, anything I could think of, we were doing it together. I help him pack his clothes and reorganize his closet to the way he likes it. We even picked out a name together.

At the last ultrasound appointment that Peeta will be able to attend is filled with tears. I couldn't stop crying knowing I'll truly face raising this baby alone. Peeta asked the ultrasound technician for printouts of the baby so he could keep them with him for as long as he could.

Tomorrow morning is the day he is officially deported. He will fly to Atlanta to receive his vaccines and spend the weekend there because the shots make you feel nauseous, then on Monday morning, his flight will leave to Iraq for who knows how long.

At the airport, bright and early. Many tears are spilled that day from multiple other couples. There are some young and old kids walking with their and I are the youngest couple there, and I'm the only pregnant one. All the men are dressed in he same camouflage uniform with the same type of duffle bag. I roll my fingers through Peeta's hair knowing that the military will make him shave it all off.

Peeta and I kiss passionately before he pulls away, he turns his back and hesitantly walking towards the plane, he turns around and his eyes are full of unspoken emotion. I think I can even see a reflection of tears staining his cheeks as well. This could be my last time seeing him for six months. I hate to think like that too.

The first week without Peeta was weird, Haven kept kicking and moving around. Her most favorite time to move was early in the mornings when I was trying to sleep. I have to force myself to eat anything, knowing that I am responsible for another life right now and not just my own. If I was just caring for myself, I probably would hardly eat anything.

Haven must know her father must no be around because whenever she would hear his voice she would flop and do whatever she does inside of me, kick against his touch when he touched my stomach. But sometimes, he is the only thing that can actually get her to stop kicking.

On my next doctor's appointment, two weeks after Peeta had left, I was due for another ultrasound. My doctor kept giving me sympathetic faces, knowing my husband is gone and I'm all alone with this baby.

"Any day now Katniss, the baby could come. Any day." Dr. Drew said.

Any day now meant the baby is almost here, almost here.

About three days later, I begin to feel light pressure on my back. Dr. Drew had mentioned practice contractions that I would start to have. The practice contractions would be in no particular pattern while real contractions would be every so often so decreasing the time in between. I take an Advil for the contractions I've been getting.

My eyes flash open when I feel a wet sensation in my bed, I couldn't have peed myself, it was so much liquid for pee. As soon as I realize that my water just broke, a strong and powerful rips through my body, causing me to whimper in pain.

I grab the hospital bag that Peeta and I packed when I was six months pregnant, it has been laying in our closest floor ever since patiently awaiting the day for Haven's arrival.

Throughout the ride over to the hospital, the contractions continue to hit. I must force myself to stay focused on driving safely. I have Haven's little car seat set up, one of our neighbors put it together for me a few days ago.

The moonlight lights up the road ahead of me, there is no traffic on the highway. The stars shine bright like a diamond in the night sky, the highways like this in Kentucky are rare, especially in the suburbs right outside of Louisville like Josh and I live in.

I wabble back and forth to the front counter to check myself in, one of the reception ladies is quick to sit me down in a wheelchair, probably guessing my already weak knees were about ready to fold.

"So where is your husband?" The nurse asks me who is wheeling me to my delivery room.

I freeze in my breaths when she asks me that, bringing up painful memories like that, be strong Katniss, be strong. "He was deployed overseas a few weeks ago," I spit out.

"How old are you then?" She asks me. I'm not sure if she's asking me these questions to be polite or if she's trying to get me to get my mind off of thinking about Peeta, who should be here right now for his first child's birth.

"23."

"I wish you the best of luck then," The nurse kindly says than leaves me once I'm inside my delivery room where I am greeted by several other doctors, including the doctor who will deliver my baby, Dr. Drew.

I'm handed a thin, pink dress to change into for delivery. I do as I'm said and change clothes. I also put my hair high in a bun to keep my hair out of my face. I've always felt better when my hair was removed from my face.

"We need to hook you up on IV's and heart rate monitors," A nurse warns before stabbing a needle into my wrist. I wince at the pain, but make sure my brave face is on knowing how much more difficult and labor will be.

It takes me eleven hours to become fully dilated, and during that time, I always had a nurse by my side talking me through this as Peeta would have. Most nurses comfort their patients who have no one else with them inside the delivery room.

I ended up with the epidural, the pain became so intense I wanted to black out, the pain inserting the epidural was almost just as bad as the contractions were. But once it kicked in, I was able to sleep for a few hours with my whole lower body numb.

"Push one, two three, four," Dr. Drew keeps counting and I keep screaming. This baby is stubborn, Dr. Drew has had me trying to push from different angles, he's had me laying on my left and right side, and now I'm on my back trying to push as hard as I can.

I'm about ready to cry when I hear a baby's cries enter the room and our little girl is placed on top of my chest, still wailing. Her face is still very swollen and her body is still bloody. Once Haven is cleaned up and placed back on my chest is when I actually start to cry from tears of pain but yet so much happiness.

"You look so much like your dad right now," I describe to her, even though she has no clue what I'm talking about, "He wishes he could be here right now I bet." I kiss the top of her head which has blonde hair on top, the hair there is very thin, but yet it's still blonde.

About a hour of giving birth, one of the nurses teaches me how to breast feed, it's a weird sensation, but also welcoming. Knowing that I am developing that bond with my child. Peeta would love to be here right now. And I wish he was...

Because I had given in and got the epidural, I must stay in the hospital for three days for close evaluation. It's nice to have multiple hands wanting to help me with Haven, if Peeta were here, he would never let Haven out of his sight, whoever is near her, I make sure to eye her down carefully as in reminder not to hurt my daughter.

If only Peeta was here and we would be together...

Like I said before, I like having multiple stories going at once, I often get bored and need to take a break but I feel bad about taking a break. I probably won't be able to update at all this week, I have final exams that I probably will fail, so three finger salute to me, especially during my chemistry and Spanish 2 exam.