WHY DID HE MARRY ME

The Second Baby

I found out I was pregnant on a Tuesday.

It was 10:47AM. I was in the staff bathroom at the clinic. Between a flu shot and a cut that needed stitches.

Two pink lines.

I stared at them.

"Oh," I said out loud. To the mirror. To no one.

My hands started shaking. Not bad. Just enough that I had to sit down on the closed toilet lid.

Six weeks. Maybe seven. I did the math in my head.

I wasn't ready.

I was ready.

Both at the same time.

I took a picture of the test. Deleted it. Took another one.

Then I washed my face, went back to work, and didn't tell anyone for 6 hours.

---

I waited until we were at the water house.

Lucia was asleep upstairs. The house was quiet. Just crickets and the water.

Alessandro was on the couch with his laptop. Tie off. Sleeves rolled up.

"Hey," I said. "Can you pause that."

He looked up immediately. "What happened."

"Nothing happened," I said. "Sit with me."

He closed the laptop. Patted the spot next to him.

I sat. My hands were cold.

"I'm pregnant," I said.

He blinked. "What."

"I'm pregnant," I said again. "About 6 weeks. Maybe a little more."

The words hung there.

He didn't say anything for 10 seconds. Then he stood up. Paced to the kitchen. Came back.

"Are you okay," he asked. "Are you scared."

"Yes," I said. "And happy. And tired. And all of it."

He kneeled in front of me. Took both my hands.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. We can do this."

"Can we," I asked. "Because Lucia is only 5 and the clinic is growing and"

"Yes," he said. "We can. Because we already did it once. And we were terrible at it the first month. And then we were good at it."

He smiled. "We got this."

He kissed my knuckles. Then my forehead.

"Are you sure," he asked.

"I took 3 tests," I said. "From 3 different brands. Like a crazy person."

He laughed. The sound broke some of the tension. "Of course you did. That's my wife."

---

He didn't sleep that night.

At 2AM I woke up and he was on his phone. Reading.

"What are you doing," I whispered.

"Research," he said. "Foods to avoid. Safe exercises. What to expect week by week."

"Alessandro," I said. "Come to bed."

"In a minute," he said.

I got up. Took the phone from him. "Now."

He sighed but followed me. Pulled me against him. One hand on my stomach.

"Hi baby," he whispered to my stomach. "Hi."

I fell asleep like that.

---

The next morning he was different.

He made me breakfast. No coffee. Herbal tea.

"No caffeine," he said. "I read it."

"I can have one cup," I said.

"One," he conceded. "Small."

He called Marco. "No lifting anything over 10 pounds for Mrs. Moretti. Starting today."

"Alessandro," I said.

"Safety," he said.

Lucia figured it out at lunch.

"Mama, why is daddy being weird," she asked.

"Because mama is growing a baby," Alessandro said.

Lucia dropped her fork. "A baby. For real. A real baby."

"For real," I said.

She screamed. Ran around the table. Then stopped and hugged me very carefully.

"I'm gonna be a big sister," she said. "I get to teach it everything."

"Yes," I said. "You do."

That night she slept in our bed. "To protect the baby."

Alessandro didn't argue.

---

The first trimester hit me hard.

Nausea in the morning. Exhaustion at 3PM. Crying at commercials.

I was still working at the clinic two days a week. Alessandro hated it.

"You need to rest," he said.

"I need to feel normal," I said. "The clinic makes me feel normal."

He thought about it. "One day. And I drive you. And you take breaks."

"Deal," I said.

He kept his word. He was in the waiting room every time. With snacks. And water. And a book.

At the 12 week appointment we did the ultrasound.

The room was dark. The tech moved the wand.

And there it was. Flickering.

Thump thump thump.

A heartbeat.

Alessandro grabbed my hand so hard it hurt.

"That's it," the tech said. "That's your baby."

Alessandro didn't say anything. But I felt his thumb rubbing over my knuckles.

In the car after, he was quiet.

"What," I asked.

"That's real," he said. "That's a real person. And we made it."

"Yes," I said.

He pulled over. Leaned over and kissed me. "Thank you."

"For what."

"For this," he said. "For choosing this with me."

---

Second trimester was better.

The nausea went away. I had energy again. The bump showed at 18 weeks.

Alessandro started building the nursery that weekend.

"Yellow," he said. "Neutral. In case."

"In case what," I asked.

"In case we have another one later," he said casually. Like he wasn't nervous.

He painted. Got paint in his hair. On his shirt. On the floor.

Lucia "helped." There was more paint on her than the walls.

At 20 weeks we did the anatomy scan.

"Do you want to know," the doctor asked.

"Yes," Alessandro said before I could answer. "We want to know."

The doctor smiled. "It's a boy."

Alessandro looked at me. "A boy."

"A boy," I said.

He grinned. Wide. "Matteo. We're calling him Matteo."

"After your dad," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "I think he would have liked that. A grandson named after him."

On the drive home he couldn't stop talking about names. Middle names. Nicknames.

"Matt. Teo. Matteo Moretti. It sounds strong."

"It does," I said.

---

Work didn't get easier. It got harder.

I was big. Tired. My back hurt.

But the clinic was opening the new mental health wing. I was supposed to give the speech.

The night before I panicked. "I can't do this. I look like a whale."

"You look beautiful," Alessandro said. "And you are going to do it. Because those people need to hear you."

He was right.

The next day I stood on that stage. 8 months pregnant.

And I talked about healing. About second chances. About family.

When I finished, people stood up.

Alessandro was in the front row. Filming on his phone. Crying and pretending he wasn't.

After he hugged me. "You were incredible."

"I was sweating," I said.

"You were incredible and sweating," he said.

---

Third trimester.

I waddled. I couldn't sleep. I ate pickles and ice cream at midnight.

Alessandro was on call 24/7.

Foot rubs. Back rubs. Trips to the store.

He installed the car seat 4 times. "To make sure."

He read 3 books on newborns. Highlighted them.

One night at 38 weeks I woke up at 3:12AM.

"Alessandro," I said.

He was awake instantly. "What. Is it time."

"I think so," I said. "Contractions. 7 minutes apart."

He moved. Fast.

Bag. Keys. Called Marco. Called Maya to get Lucia.

In 18 minutes we were in the car.

At the hospital he didn't leave me. Not for one second.

He held my hand. He wiped my forehead. He told bad jokes to make me laugh.

When Matteo was born, 7 pounds 3 ounces, screaming, Alessandro cut the cord.

Then he looked at me. Sweaty and tired and perfect.

"You did it," he said.

"We did it," I said.

He kissed my forehead. "Thank you. For him. For Lucia. For all of this."

---

The first month home was chaos.

No sleep. Cluster feeding. Lucia asking 400 questions.

Alessandro took two months off work. "Paternity leave."

He did the 2AM feedings. He did diapers. He read to Lucia while I napped.

One night he was rocking Matteo. Walking back and forth.

"You okay," I whispered.

"Yeah," he said. "Just thinking. A year ago I didn't think I deserved this."

"You do now," I said.

"Because of you," he said. "You taught me how to be this."

He came to bed. Put the baby in the bassinet.

And for a few hours, it was quiet.

---

Six weeks later we did family photos.

All four of us. At the water house. On the dock.

Alessandro in jeans and a button down. Me in a dress. Lucia in yellow. Matteo in my arms.

The photographer said, "You guys look so happy."

"We are," Alessandro said. Without hesitating.

And we were.

That night after the kids were asleep, we sat outside.

"So," I said. "Two kids."

"Two kids," he said. "A clinic. A company. A house."

"And us," I said.

"And us," he said. "Most importantly."

He took my hand. "I never thought I would get to have this. A normal life."

"This isn't normal," I said. "This is better than normal."

He laughed. "Yeah. It is."

He kissed me. "Thank you. For saying yes. That day. In the office."

"Thank you," I said. "For keeping me."

We sat there until the stars came out.

Inside, our son was sleeping.

Upstairs, our daughter was dreaming.

And outside, the future was waiting.

And for once, it didn't scare me.

Because we were going to face it together.

As a family.

As the Morettis.