Whitebark Stream So take this feeling, make it grow.

"snowdrops," she echoes, wondering if they're useful, like the healing plants pema used to keep carefully sorted. dawn had never been one for the little things — too many big things had a habit of taking hold of her life and turning it upside down. but the past few weeks had seen things falling together in a way she'd never thought they would; culminating in this moment, just now.

she noses them drawing in the careful scent and touching gently the petals. they seemed so delicate, but they must be strong to bloom in this season. "thank you," she murmurs, peering up at him. his next question has her straighten, smile softly. "I'm tired, but well." 

she considers a moment, then elaborates. "last time, I didn't know for certain until a few weeks had passed. it was visibly obvious, then - but there are other signs, too. cravings, or sickness." she did not know if he knew what came later in her pregnancy, the birth itself. she tried not to think about that, really. she could not shake the fact, however, that last time she'd done something wrong.