“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” says Monica, leaning over to give me a hug. “That is really too bad! Maybe you’re just…”

She clearly doesn’t want to finish the rest of her sentence.

“Overreacting because I’m stressed and hormonal?” I ask her.

She smiles.

“I don’t mean it like that,” she says, and then nods her head over to where the kids are playing. James is purposefully knocking over all the blocks that Becky tries to stack for him, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “I myself was pregnant not too long ago and I know how it is. Those last minute fears. Jitters. Worry. It’s excruciating. Enough to drive anyone bonkers.”

“I’ve thought of that,” I tell her. “That I could be over-reacting. Thinking something’s there when it’s not. But, I know my husband, and something seems… weird.”

I let out a deflated sigh. She takes my hand and pats it.

“Okay, well, maybe he’s just experiencing the same feelings,” she suggests. “Since he’s about to be a new parent as well.”

I nod.

“Yeah, I figure it’s something like that,” I tell her. “But that’s scray too, you know? Because, what if he’s scared like I am? Or even more so? Who is going to look out for this baby if both of us are so damn afraid?”

“Have you tried talking to him about this?” Monica asks.

“Of course not,” I say, shaking my head. We both burst into laughter. “I mean, it’s just not something I know how to say. ‘Hey, I’m having a lot of doubts and worries about all of this. Are you feeling the same way?’ What if he says ‘No, what are you talking about?’ I’ll feel like such an idiot. And a bad parent already, before the baby has even come!”

I put a hand on my stomach, which is still tightening and rumbling quite strangely. I’ve never been anywhere close to being in labor, before, but I don’t think this is it. I expect something stronger, more ferocious and overpowering.

“I can understand that fear,” Monica says. “But maybe Jensen is having the same one, too. One of you have to bring it up.”

“That’s very true,” I tell her. “I’ll try to talk to him.”

She smiles.

“Good,” she says. “Glad I can be a relationship counselor today.”

I laugh and tell her, “I seriously appreciate it. You have no idea.”

She shrugs and says, “To tell you the truth, I’m a little jealous. Ramsey and I weren’t together while I was pregnant, so, it’s nice to remind someone who is part of a couple not to take these things for granted. He’s here, so you might as well talk to him.”

“Good point,” I tell her.

Then, looking at the clock on my phone, I add, “Hmmm, he’s usually here. But I wonder where he is now.”

I look at her in shock, realizing Jensen is usually home by now. What if he’s staying away out of fear, or what if he’s sick of my sulking? My mind races with possibilities, but Monica steadies it by patting me on the back.

“I’m sure he just had a second beer and he’ll be home soon,” she says. “Let’s get this stuff put away. Becky, can you watch your brother and cousin while your mom and I go up to the nursery?”

“Sure!” Becky says, patting James on the head. He looks up and smiles at her from where he’s sitting on the floor.

“Thank you,” Monica says, as she begins picking up some of the clothes to carry upstairs to the nursery.

I follow suit. As we gather the tiny items, Monica mentions, “Have you talked to Whitney lately?”

“No, not really,” I tell her. “Although she brought over some of these clothes the other day. One of her friends’ babies had outgrown them and she wanted to pass them on.”

“That was nice of her,” Monica replies, but she sounds thoughtful.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, speaking of people being distant… Whitney has seemed that way to me too lately.”

“Hmm,” I say. “I wonder why.”

“Yeah, it’s obviously not as worrisome as what you’ve been going through with Jensen and your pregnancy, so I almost didn’t say anything,” Monica continues. “But I just worry about her. She and Harlow have been trying for a while to have a baby and it doesn’t look like it’s working out.”

“She’d mentioned that to me,” I say, nodding. “That’s too bad.”

“I just hope she’s not depressed or something,” Monica says. “Maybe we can take her out and cheer her up or something.”

We both look down at my large stomach and laugh.

“I guess I could try to get one more girl’s night out before the baby comes,” I tell her. “But I doubt I would be any good on the dance floor.”

“I’m sure Jensen will watch the baby after he gets here,” Monica says. “And we can go celebrate you becoming a mother.”

“I’m not sure that would make Whitney feel very good if the problem is…”

I stop, the word just hanging between us.

Infertility.