[ It was Tenzin, who'd tactfully brought up the subject of a Family Bed. It was Tonraq who had matter-of-factly dismissed it and -- for once -- sided with Hei. Contemplating the baby's sleeping arrangements, barely into the first trimester, might be premature. If anything it's a decision better left to Korra. But Hei isn't keen on tolerating a squalling infant in their bedroom. He needs at least one venue to retreat to, for silence and privacy, when the whole house is filled with those explosive baby-cries he's already dreading. ]
[ There's a great deal, in fact, that he's dreading. The weeks have dissolved in a solution of tears, anxieties, lists, plans, heated discussion about ways and means, although no more huge screaming fights. He's still terrified and horrified and worried, but there's a time and a place for that. It's better to focus on the practicalities. He's already child-proofed the house from top to bottom -- edge-guards for sharp furniture, high locked shelves for toxic solutions, safety gates and knob covers for drawers and stairs. He's remodeled the fire-escape and updated the security system of the Beach House -- he's nothing if not prepared. He's also, with Pema's help and the doctor's guidelines, drawn up a meal plan for Korra: all the foods rich in vitamin B6 and folates (endless leafy greens) that she glowers at. ]
[ He's aware all the while, of that extra presence in her, steadily expanding. Wonders if he'll be able to summon any love for it, when all he's gripped with right now is excruciating paranoia. ]
[ Today, he'd planned to help her set up the crib. But on his way back from the factory, he'd caught swirling rumors of an Equalist rally brewing downtown. Despite himself, he'd been piqued. What if it was something serious? Something potentially harmful to Korra? ]
[ Better make sure. The baby is due in nine months. Nine months to erase any major threats in Republic City. To make it a safer place for puppies and democracy and pitter-pattering mini-Korras. ]
no subject
[ There's a great deal, in fact, that he's dreading. The weeks have dissolved in a solution of tears, anxieties, lists, plans, heated discussion about ways and means, although no more huge screaming fights. He's still terrified and horrified and worried, but there's a time and a place for that. It's better to focus on the practicalities. He's already child-proofed the house from top to bottom -- edge-guards for sharp furniture, high locked shelves for toxic solutions, safety gates and knob covers for drawers and stairs. He's remodeled the fire-escape and updated the security system of the Beach House -- he's nothing if not prepared. He's also, with Pema's help and the doctor's guidelines, drawn up a meal plan for Korra: all the foods rich in vitamin B6 and folates (endless leafy greens) that she glowers at. ]
[ He's aware all the while, of that extra presence in her, steadily expanding. Wonders if he'll be able to summon any love for it, when all he's gripped with right now is excruciating paranoia. ]
[ Today, he'd planned to help her set up the crib. But on his way back from the factory, he'd caught swirling rumors of an Equalist rally brewing downtown. Despite himself, he'd been piqued. What if it was something serious? Something potentially harmful to Korra? ]
[ Better make sure. The baby is due in nine months. Nine months to erase any major threats in Republic City. To make it a safer place for puppies and democracy and pitter-pattering mini-Korras. ]
[ A pity that is easier said than done. ]