I was always a little awkward around dogs. With their slobber and farts and fur loss. Always jumping and licking. Always staring at you with those helpless eyes. What did they want from me? I could never tell.
Babymoon. It’s a thing. A brief respite from the chaos of work, hospital visits, nursery preparation, and the myriad other responsibilities of expecting parents. I’d been advised by
the internet friends to take a babymoon and enjoy one last hurrah before our life is forever changed come March.
Gender reveals. It’s a pregnancy milestone. One that you spend countless hours wondering about. The ultrasound date nears, the anticipation grows. You make plans around it. A gender reveal party. A carefully crafted social media post. And however it happens, it all boils down to a singular moment. That moment you open the envelope. That moment you cut the gender cake or those colored balloons rise from out a big box. It’s a moment you can’t recreate. A moment that stays with you forever.
Yeah, it’s supposed to be like that. Except when it’s not. Take ours, for instance. Ours…malfunctioned.
Let me explain.
When you’re expecting, things change. They change hard.
There’s the obvious stuff. The stuff you can see. Like your partner’s belly. Maybe you’re developing some belly of your own. You might paint a room. You may consider a new car. A bigger place. That stuff is normal. That’s to be expected.
What I didn’t expect was the mental change. This new inner voice that’s appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Let me give you an idea of what I’m talking about: