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I sighed and rested my free hand on my stomach.
“I keep thinking I’m forgetting something. Then I remember I’m about to have a whole baby, and I start thinking about everything that can happen.”
He turned toward me.
“You scared?”
“A little.”
“Of what?”
“Giving birth. Bringing him home. All of it.” I looked down at our hands. “I’ve done this before, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.”
“I know, baby.”
I glanced at him.
“And I know you’ve been worrying too,” I said as I looked him in the eyes.
He didn’t bother pretending this time.
“I just want to be able to do more when he gets here,” he said.
“You’re doing everything you can. Give yourself some credit. I watched you take three steps today.”
He looked toward the bedroom door.
“Three little-ass steps,” he said with a frustrated sigh.
“Three more than you took yesterday.”
He was quiet for a moment while rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand.
“I’m not saying I’m not grateful,” he told me. “I know how close I came to not being here at all. But I used to be able to get up and do whatever needed doing. Now I gotta ask somebody to bring me something from across the room.”
“I know that’s hard for you,” I said softly.
He was finally allowing himself a moment to be vulnerable about his current state.
“It is.” He looked at my stomach. “I wanna be able to get up when you need me. I don’t want you trying to do everything yourself because you think I can’t help.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. He wasn’t wrong. There were times I grabbed something or took care of a task before he could ask because I thought I was making things easier for him. I hadn’t considered that it might make him feel like I’d stopped expecting him to do anything.
“I’ll work on that,” I said.
He nodded.
“That’s all I’m asking.”
I leaned over and kissed him.
“But you have to promise me something too.”
“What’s that?” he looked me in the eyes.
“When you need help, ask for it. Don’t try to prove something and end up hurting yourself.”
“I’m not about to do nothing stupid.”
