the miracle of life; or, how emma swan managed to stay married long enough to see aliens turned to babies
There are a lot of things that become Constant Topics of Conversation once they find out they’re having triplets. Emma’s personal favorite topic: Regina’s Fucking Amazing Pregnancy Tits. Regina’s changes depending on the week and time of day. Early in the morning, when she is crabby from lack of sleep and sore muscles, her only topics are getting Henry ready for school and cursing Emma’s magic—although as the months progress, she tries to soften her words (a little). Mid-afternoon, she talks about food. Emma thinks it’s hilarious and, one day, takes screenshots of Regina’s texts over the course of three hours in which she lists her favorite snack foods in every cuisine available in Storybrooke and then some.
(When she sends the pictures to Henry, he bikes over to the grocery store and picks up three boxes of frozen churros. Emma is sure that Regina will refuse, but by the time she gets home, the two of them have eaten a box and a half between them. The third box has Emma’s name written on it in Sharpie and she makes a point to thank Henry out of Regina’s earshot.)
There is a space of about a month and a half, right around month five, when sex comes up as often as food. When sex happens as often as food. Regina starts talking about sex in terms of food and when Emma sleeps through her lunch hour instead of meeting Regina for a quickie, she learns more than the original meaning of ‘aperitif’ before dinner. By month seven, when Regina starts entirely freaking out about her weight gain and refusing to let Emma touch her, Emma is almost grateful. At least, she sleeps like the dead for close to a week, and then remembers that their obstetrician warned against sex after 30 weeks—something about risks to multiples and also magic babies—and does her best to shower Regina with adoration-sex for the week they have left.
But the real Constant Topic of Conversation is names. And at first—when all they know is three babies and are still torn between giddy and petrified—it’s light-hearted and joking and they even spend two afternoons flipping through baby name books from 1983 and searching baby websites for the most outrageous names.
And then it gets real, and shit hits the fan.