Things are different the next time around. They can’t help but be. You no longer possess the innocence of believing a positive pregnancy test equals a baby. Not every time. Not for everyone. Not for you.
He creeps into the dark room and slips into bed beside his wife. His hand delicately caresses her curvy silhouette. Her top has ridden up, exposing part of her swollen belly. He places his palm in the center of the roundness. He feels her warm, smooth skin but nothing more.
You’ve got to love when you endure many months of excessive vomiting, migraines, severe hip pain, and general pregnancy hell only for the ultrasound tech to take a few snapshots of your baby, turn to your husband and say, “She looks like you.”
Of course she does.