Month one.
Routine feels good, I must say.
Living in a ship for so many years has acquainted me with the necessity and unspoken needy pleasure of writing a log. Everything that happens must be committed to print, lest one forget the events that might or might not unfold in later days.
So, my entry for this month will be thus: I am finally proud to say, if only to the blank pages of this book, that I am to be a father. And of course, no sooner did my lovely lass inform me of her condition I immediately jumped at making her my wife. I care not what people in this bloody realm think or what modern times dictate for such measure... I am a gentleman, and if the woman I love is with child (my child), she is to become an honorable bride. She deserves no less than that; she is worthy of all my unbridled love, affection and attention. So the day after we received the joyous news, we were wed. Nothing too ceremonious... just the way she likes things. I care not; as long as I can call her my wife, I'll abide to her every wish and whim. But then, I've done so for nearly two years now anyway, even when she didn't even consider it a possibility, her becoming Mrs. Jones. Ah, the woes of being in love...
I must say, I would have thought such tidings would have halted my heart in disquietude, but the mere thought that my Emma will bring my child into this world has flooded me with unparalleled joy. Never in a million years did I believe she'd give me the time of day, let alone share her heart with me... or my bed... or her bed rather, since I'm very much a shipless Captain. I must admit, though, Swan and I made a nice home here on land and the sea is just a blink's walk from here, so I'm pleased with this particular orchestration of things. Henry gets his own quarters, good lad that he is. He seemed contented with the notion of a brother or sister, so as his now official stepfather I have to admit I am pleased that he's pleased.
Swan is currently coursing her seventh week since gestation, and I have to say, it's an interesting experience to be awakened in the morning by the lovely retching sounds of my newly acquired lady wife regurgitating her previous night's repast in the water closet; Every morning, every bloody morning, without amiss. She returns to my bedside looking drawn and normally stares daggers at me with the words, "You did this to me Killian", or something equally hostile. I normally laugh, like I would... but I still feel for her. I admire her strength. I don't believe that, with all the adventures we've shared and the thrills and woes of all the dangers we've endured together, she has ever felt this way... or maybe she has once, with Henry. But then, she was by herself then, not a woman in love with a man who's fathering her second child, so I suppose that this will be yet another adventure we will share together, a mighty fine one, at that! So, here's to new beginnings. We will see what life has in store for the Jones's these coming months!
Feels good, saying that!