❛ She’s kicking. ❜ It was the first considerable thing Amy had said to Nick in the past 3 days, and what a sentence it was. Palm to her belly, she felt her child roll somersaults inside her. “It’s worth is,” says her mother, says her ‘best friend Noelle,’ says every woman who unabashedly gropes her giant stomach in the middle of the grocery store —— she wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t exactly saving her marriage or doing her figure any favors.
❛ If you can find it in yourself to not be disgusted by me for a minute … you could feel. ❜
❝ she is? ❞ an emotion welled within me. was it excitement or nervousness? it was safe to assume that it had been a strange combination of both. the tragedy turned happy ending so affectionately titled the miracle on the mississippi was old news. and yet, there still existed a sense of obligation to ensure that the marriage appeared to be real. there were innumerable possibilities if i were to inadvertently cause distress and so i was content to live in fear at the unpredictability of my situation. but as that proposition was offered, my frame recoiled as though it encountered something horrific. had i been disgusted? incredibly so. not that my wife’s beauty had changed, but our love had. even so, i felt the sudden need to defend myself from such an assumption. ❝ i’m not disgusted by you, how could i be? you’re carrying my child. it’s just hard. ❞