When I look down, I can’t see my toes anymore. My belly is so big, so full of life. It’s so big, in fact, that I had to call Grant to help me set up the crib. This baby is due in less than eight weeks now, and judging by the way she’s doing entire dance routines in there, she’s eager to make her entrance into the world.
I can only hope to match her level of energy when she’s no longer confined to my womb. Watching Grant put the crib together on the floor of the otherwise bare nursery, I remind myself that I won’t be alone.
“Can I help in any way?” I ask, nervously rubbing my belly. That’s a new thing, the belly rubbing. It’s almost compulsive at this stage.
“Absolutely not.” Grant grunts, poking his head out from under the wooden contraption with a sly grin.
My heart flip-flops. Pregna
