I’m sitting here quietly watching my wife doze on the sofa while I play on the internet. She’s got one hand resting lightly on her belly, another laying limply on the open book on her lap. I notice that the pale pink tank top she’s wearing matches her newly-applied toenail polish. “Brown eyed Girl” floats through the air–a song we both love and always reminds us of the cruise we took three years ago and the piano bar where we had so much fun hanging out.
I’m taking it all in, keenly aware that the quiet moments we share are ending in under a month to be replaced by something else, something amazing. I’m soaking it all in just looking at her, my beautiful fertility goddess, my wife, my beloved, and all I can think is my life is so fucking spectacularly and amazingly beautiful that I may just burst from gratitude.