I open the door and see Mark Dixon, Aaron’s boss and close friend. Waddling to the door takes me a minute since I’m the size of a whale. I hear the door, but it takes me a few seconds to get out of the chair.

She’ll own his world and have him wrapped around her finger. I picture Aaron with her asleep on his chest as she gets to hear his heartbeat. I imagine holding her in my arms, sitting here in this chair, soothing and kissing her. I close my eyes and sink, allowing the world to fade away. I’ve already told Aaron I want to try for another one as soon as she’s born. I love being pregnant and it’s a miracle we were able to conceive her. I can’t wait to see his face when he sees the pretty butterflies.” Needing to take another break, I sit in the rocking chair and rub my stomach. In the end, I won with purple walls and the sheer netting around her white crib. I may not be a SEAL, but you don’t mess with me either. My husband found out shortly after how much he could suffer by my hands. I launched various household items at Mark while throwing him out of the house. I got home and he and Mark were drawing it out on the walls. I almost sent myself into labor with that argument. Brown, green, and black camouflage for a girl? No. He insisted we paint her room in camouflage. Aaron and I have fought about the vast array of pink things that are now strewn around the house-he hates it, I love it. I walk around what will be her room, putting a few more of the pretty pink dresses in the drawers. Aaron is away, but I want the nursery done so we can enjoy the next few weeks once he returns.

Once it passes, I try to finish what I came in here for. It seems like they’re coming more frequently. I grip the dresser and try to breathe through it. “Oh, Chloe, if you’d like to come out, please wait until your Daddy gets back,” I insist, holding my belly as another Braxton Hicks contraction hits.

Consolation by Corinne Michaels