That Baby (16 page)

I squeeze his hand. He always knows the right thing to do.
 

“Yeah, I know,” Nick sighs. “Alright, I gotta get to dinner. Talk to you later.”

“Good luck with the rest of the combine, Nicky,” I tell him. “Everything else will work out if it’s meant to be.”

When we get home, Phillip sets up the picnic in front of the fire while I go change into my first lingerie look, a sexy coral silk chemise with sheer insets.
 

Phillip is lying on a blanket, wearing just a pair of silky boxers.
 

And even though I was just thinking I was hungry, I suddenly could care less if I ever eat again. I slide onto his lap, straddling him.

“I didn’t see this one in the store,” he says. “You holding out on me?”

“You were probably too busy flirting with the lingerie salesgirls to notice,” I tease.

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“But you knew her name. Her major.”

“I was just being polite and making conversation while you were trying stuff on.”

“She was crushing on you.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Were you crushing back? She was pretty and she did have the kind of bombshell body I'll never have.”

His fingers trail across my chest. “I don't know, you're looking pretty bombshell to me right now.”

“I don't have curvy hips, Phillip.”

He grips my hips in his hands while I slide off his boxers.

“Listen closely,” he says. “I love you. I think you're sexy as all get out, but that's not all that makes you sexy. It's your confidence, your sense of humor, and your willingness to try anything that I love. I hope while you’re pregnant you don’t ever doubt my love. I want you to try to enjoy the way your body changes. And know that I think you having our baby might just be the sexiest thing ever.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Dear Baby Mac,

You are growing super fast right now. And your heart is beating super fast too. 150 beats a minute! (Which is about double mine.)
 

You have arms and legs and you can move them. Your dad says you’re waving at him when he talks to you, but I can’t feel it because you are only the size of a raspberry.
 

I’ve gained three pounds though, which seems kind of excessive for a raspberry. Although, I’m pretty sure, it’s gone straight to my boobs, which are now bigger than normal and your father is obsessing over them.
 

I also am craving Milk Duds and am considering buying stock in them.
 

Things are super busy at work. Our plans for the new building were approved, we had a groundbreaking ceremony, and construction has officially commenced. If all goes as planned, we’ll move in well before you’re born.

I’m also officially addicted to searching nursery designs on the Internet and have been compiling ideas. I’m not sure what I want it to look like yet, but I’m pretty sure it will be a bluish grey.
 

And, just so you know, there are about a thousand blue-grey paint colors available, but I promise to find the perfect shade.

Your grandmother is very excited about you. She and your grandpa have been staying here a lot. It’s been sort of challenging, if I’m being honest.
 

Your dad and Danny have been enjoying her cooking. And, I’ll admit, it is nice sometimes to come home to a warm, home-cooked meal.
 

It’s been sweet of her to cook for us.

It was also sweet when she put all my wedding gifts away.
 

And it was even sweeter today when she reorganized all my kitchen cabinets.
 

But . . .

It’s sort of pissing me off.
 

It shouldn’t be, because she’s doing it to be nice.

But it is.
 

February 24th

Take out a hit.

Phillip is lying across the couch, watching football.
 

I stand directly in front of the TV, arms crossed and foot tapping in irritation.

“What?” he asks, trying to look around me.

“Don't
what
me,” I say. “It's not funny.”

“What's not funny?”

Phillip looks confused. I really thought he'd smile. “You moved the gnome to freak me out.”

“The gnome? No, I didn’t.”

“Phillip, do you promise—swear—you didn’t move it?”

“I swear. What is your obsession with this gnome?”

“He’s moving of his own accord, Phillip. You’re the man of this house. Doesn’t that concern you?”

“Can you move over just a little?” Phillip asks, still trying to see the game.

I grab the remote and threaten to turn it off.
 

Phillip leaps off the couch then pins me to the chaise. “You’re being a bad girl.”

“Phillip! Stop thinking about sex. I mean, don’t stop thinking about sex, just don’t think about it right this second. I need you to come upstairs and deal with this.”

He laughs. “Deal with the gnome? What do you want me to do with it? Shall I bring in a gnome from a rival school? Take out a hit on it?”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” I pout.

He gets off me and pulls me up. “Fine. Show me the gnome.”

I tiptoe upstairs and point toward the living room where the gnome has now taken up residence on the back of the sofa table.

“How did he get there?”

“I have no idea.”

“This is silly.”

“I know!”

“Let’s wrap him up tight and put him back in the hutch,” Phillip says, going out to the garage. He gets a ball of twine and wraps the gnome’s legs with it. “There, he won’t be able to walk now.”

“You think he’s walking?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “You think he’s walking, that’s all that matters.”

“But, he has a mono leg. I think he hops, so I don’t think the string will stop him, Phillip.”

“Fine,” he says, anxious to get back to the game. “I’ll tie him into the hutch.”

He opens the top drawer and ties string around my heavy cutlery tray then lays the gnome down face up and ties those strings around his legs.
 

“He’s not going anywhere, now,” Phillip says, shutting the drawer and heading back downstairs.
 

CHAPTER FIVE

Dear Baby Mac,

Your dad is obsessed with reading my pregnancy books. And not in a good way.
 

He’s starting to read all the horror stories. Ectopic pregnancies. Blighted ovums. Miscarriages.

Please, promise that you won’t do that to me.
 

I know it’s only been 10 weeks and you’re only the size of a prune, but I can’t wait to meet you.
 

Your dad is convinced you’re a girl.
 

Later in the pregnancy we can find out what sex you are, but I don’t think I want to know so, hopefully, you’re okay with a gender-neutral nursery.

Although, just in case, I bought a really adorable dress with a pale pink tutu and a butterfly appliqué. Oh, and matching pink sparkly booties that my mom would have gone crazy over.
 

But, shhh . . . Don’t tell Daddy.

And guess what?

Next week you’re getting your first picture taken!
 

We’re having an ultrasound. And I’m nervously excited!
 

So be good, be there, have a nice strong heartbeat, and show off your itty bitty self!

March 12th
 

Get my hopes up.

“I’m so nervous,” I tell Phillip as we enter the doctor’s office.
 

“I’m excited,” he says. “This is going to be so incredible. We’re going to see our baby for the first time.”

“I know. I’m so excited too, but I’m scared. Afraid to get my hopes up. Especially after you were talking about all the different types of miscarriages. With the blighted ovum one, you can feel pregnant, even start to show, but there’s no baby. Just an empty sac. That would be so sad. And what about the other one you read about, where they couldn’t find a heartbeat. I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens, Phillip.”

He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Everything is going to be just fine. I’m sure of it.”

I nod. “You’re right. It will be fine,” I say, but I’m still a nervous wreck. It’s weird. I know I’m pregnant. I know my body is changing, but sometimes I don’t feel pregnant. Which makes me question if everything is okay.

“Do you care if I record the ultrasound?” he asks me. “Danny said we should even though they will print us out a picture.”

“Yeah, I think we should.”

“Did you drink enough water?”

“My teeth are floating.”

Phillip laughs and it helps break the tension. “That ought to be good enough then.”

We get set up in the ultrasound room, me on the table with my shirt pulled up and Phillip sitting next to me, his phone ready to record.
 

Our ultrasound tech comes in and squeezes gel on my stomach and rubs the wand across it. Grayness moves across the screen in front of us. She frowns at the screen.
 

I squeeze Phillip’s hand tighter, worried there’s no baby to find.
 

But then she slides the wand to the other side of my abdomen and says, “There we go.”

On the screen in front of us is a little black oval and inside of it, at the bottom, is—“Is that it? Is that our baby?”

“Yes, it is. See there, that’s the baby’s head,” she says, directing us with the pointer on the screen. “And there are the facial bones. You can see the cord coming out of the belly, here, and there’s its bottom. How far along are you?”

“Eleven weeks.”

“It’s moving,” Phillip says, sounding a little worried.

I want to look at him, but my eyes are glued to the screen.

“It is very active,” she says. “The last baby I had was quiet and napping, this one is bouncing all over the place.”

“Look at his little arms move. And his legs kicking. It’s amazing.”

“The baby is moving a lot. Is that normal?” Phillip asks.

“It’s completely normal. Let’s see if the baby will hold still long enough for me to get some measurements.” She makes a few clicks then says. “Your baby is measuring at eleven weeks and two days, so it’s size is as expected. Your due date should be accurate.”

“Look at the baby! It’s going crazy. Is it because I’m nervous?”

“No,” she says. “Your baby’s putting on a show for you. Oh, look, there’s its hand. It just waved at you. Hello, Baby.”

“Ohmigawd! Hi,” I say.

“Hello, Baby Mac,” Phillip says. I turn to look at him. There’s joy written all over his face and he’s practically vibrating, he’s so excited. He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it.