Your pregnancy wasn't easy on anyone involved. Travis could count on one hand the mornings you'd woken up perfectly peachy in that nine month timespan and it made him feel guilty for being the direct cause of your misery. The childbirth hadn't been any better.

Travis had thanked his work as a CNA to prepare him for the absolute nightmare that reproduction could be. He'd heard too many horror stories of men who had been extremely self serving while their wives gave birth and he wasn't going to make the same mistake—not when it was you who had been put in this position by him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't resent the little gremlin for a brief moment because of how much pain you'd been in, though his temporary resentment completely washed away the first time he heard their baby cry.

You and the baby finally came home after two weeks in the hospital due to minor complications your doctor wanted to monitor. Travis had spent extra time making sure the apartment was clean, dusted, and free of marijuana. He hooked up the air purifier, stocked the fridge, and fluffed the pillows just for you. When Dean walked in carrying the baby's car seat, followed by a very tired you, Travis was already at your side.