I normally went all out at Christmas. But, this Christmas I only did the basics. John, being the sweetheart that he is, bought a real tree for me and Mike helped him set it up. Kate and the kids came over to help decorate it. I put on a few ornaments, and then supervised from my place on the couch.
"How are you doing, Mary?" Kate asked me.
"The doctor says I'm right on track, but I feel like a beached whale," I tried to laugh and not cry.
"Oh, Mary," Kate hugged my shoulders, "we all feel that way when we're pregnant. You're not alone, and you won't be this way forever."
"I know," the tears started.
Kate just held me and let me cry. John noticed and said, "Kate, what did you say to my girl?" He came over and stooped down by me. "Mary, are we tiring you out?"
I shook my head. "Just hormones." More tears came.
Kate moved aside and John took her place. I had his familiar shoulder and arms to rest in and felt more like myself.
I gave the kids hugs before they left. It had been so nice to see them, but I needed some quiet.
On Christmas Eve, John and I sat in front of the tree. We talked about how we would have a little one by this time next year.
Up in our room, John slowly undressed me as he kissed me. His rough hands were soft against my skin. I allowed myself to get lost in the sensations my husband was causing. He undressed and stood beside me, holding me. The feel of his skin against my body, my hands running across his chest, the locks of his hair that curled at his neck, I reveled in all of it.
We laid down and I felt wound-up unable to fall asleep. "Mary, are you okay?" John brushed my hair back.
"I just feel restless and can't fall asleep," I sighed.
"Hmm," he moved his mouth by my ear, "want me to help you relax?"
"Sure," I liked the feel of his breath on my ear and the sound of his voice.
John's hands roamed by body. The words he whispered made me feel sexy instead of huge. We made love and the gentle rocking was so relaxing. My size didn't turn him off. He still desired and wanted me. He handled my mood swings and tears with more patience than I have.
I always knew John would be a loving father. The day Dean was born, he looked so tiny in his father's arms. I knew John would be okay with Dean. Those strong arms were gentle enough to handle a newborn. I was so tired after my long labor. John sat in the chair beside he bed with Dean and I let my eyes drift shut. John was standing guard. I knew he'd keep us all safe. I heard his deep voice rumble, talking to Dean, as I fell asleep.
He was the man that I loved. The father of my child. And, always, the love of my life.