My wife has been pregnant for 9months. 40 weeks and 4 days, to be exact. She has been carrying that bulge on her stomach for almost a year now and its getting bigger and creepier every week.

What makes all these difficult though is trying to get used to the constantly growing gap between us everytime i give her a hug, or the occasional barrage of fists and kicks as my unborn son tries to muscle himself out. There was even this one time, i kid you not, he was able to skip songs played from mama’s ipad as she leans the device on her belly to let him listen to genius-stimulating orchestra with nothing but brute strength and pure unadulterated love for good music. My friends say it was just coincidence, i think its raw talent.
in fairness, my wife is nothing but gentle, soft-spoken, easy to handle, disney-like princess all through out this pregnancy, nearly none of the things old folklores warned me about- extra fat, mood swings, big noses, food binging. A Human Blue-whale.

Today we just got word that the baby is
descending a little slower than expected and the plan would be to guide him out by inducing the delivery.

I’m scared. Scared out of my wits

I want to scream.

Run.

Eat ice cream.

We went out instead and she did her last strut along the shiny Target floors- last before entering Motherhood.

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Time flew by so fast. it was just a few months back when she first told me we were pregnant. I must admit it wasn’t a sudden elation or a sense of accomplishment that welcomed me. It was more of – am I ready for this?

One thing is true though, every time he moves, every time he gallops, it never fails to keep me wanting, waiting for more.

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