Me and Peeta sit in the living room, im curled up next to him, like I was in the interview with ceaser after we won the games, but now it doesn't seem forced. I was completely, blissfully content with Peetas steady warmth beside me, but baby rose had other ideas, her cries filled our huge, victors village house and with a groan me and Peeta got up from our comfortable position to find her.
I picked up baby rose and held her close to my chest, still she continued to cry. I tried rocking her for a few minutes, but still she continued to cry.
I gave her to Peeta, still she continued to cry. He did the same as I did and rocked her back and forth in a futile attempt to get her to stop crying still she continued to cry. Peeta groaned and rubbed his eyes, where bags were evident from the lack of sleep we were getting in the fortnight we've had our wonderful baby.
"does she need a nappy change?" he mumbled, I checked her nappy while she wailed, completely clean and odour free.
"no, but maybe its uncomfortable," I replied, and without further discussion, Peeta took out a nappy and some baby wipes.
I took two broken nappies, more baby wipes than you can count, almost the whole pot of nappy rash cream and a whole lot of crying, but Peeta and I finally managed to change her nappy.
Still she cried.
"well maybe she's hungry?" Peeta said, looking defeated
"yeah." I agreed, mirroring his facial expression.
After ten minutes, I realised that it was pointless, she wouldn't drink, she refused, and all of this is in vain, all she did was wail.
"you could burp her?" Peeta suggested, there was no point, but I tried anyway, and got the same results, she just continued wailing.
"maybe, she wants a bath!" Peeta says, I just stare at him.
"why? We bathed her this morning!"
"maybe she feels dirty…" Peeta replies and I giggle, something I never did before I met Peeta. He chuckles too and we carry her to one of our many bathrooms were, we clean her, I hold her while Peeta gently cleans her. But sill she continues to scream. I wait for Peeta to suggest something else, but he's run out of ideas, so I do the only thing I can think of. I pick her up and start to sing the valley song
Deep in the meadow,
Under the willow,
A bed of grass,
A soft green pillow.
I watch her face as her mouth closes and her eyes, grow sweet and curious, Peeta stands beside me, stroking the wispy strands of dark hair on her head.
Lay down your head,
And close your sleepy eyes.
And when again they open the sun will rise,
Here it's safe, and here it's warm,
Here the daisies guard you from every harm.
Here your dreams are sweet,
And tomorrow brings them true,
Here is the place, where I love you.
Rose is already asleep but I finish the song anyway and lay her in her cot, two weeks into life and she's already so much like prim, sweet, kind, loving. That is- when she's not crying, but I still love her unconditionally, crying or not and so does Peeta, at first I wanted to name her primrose but, we decided not to , I didn't want a constant reminder of our losses and she wouldn't want to carry around the burden of my dead sister around with her, so we named her rose, derived from primrose, normally I would have hated to call her rose, roses remind me of president snow, but this time I love it, It comes from primrose, and when I think of rose, I think of a pink rose, not a white one, I think of innocence, love and beauty and all things beautiful bring her to mind, I said the same about rue once that's why rue is her middle name, its different, with her middle name because I wouldn't always be saying it so it wont constantly remind me of rue. And it has a ring to it,
Rose Rue Mellark.
I think of this while, im curled next to Peeta once again, content with all the love Peeta gives me, and my beautiful baby girl, and the two little girls, who are finally at peace in heaven, probably looking down on us, smiling.
My peace is short lived though.
Because that's when my babies cries fill the room.
Me and Peeta groan in unison.