My gorgeous husband is leaning against the doorframe wearing his grey three-piece suit I love so much, hands buried in his pockets, eyes raking up and down my body making me feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.

"Are you ready, my love?" His voice gives me goose bumps.

I nod and check my own reflection in the mirror. I do like what I see. A little make-up that brings out my green eyes, my mother's pearls, my hair is full and glossy, the soft light and the extra weight from the pregnancy are hiding all the wrinkles. I haven't dressed up like this since we got married. Andy comes into focus behind me, his hands sliding around my stomach, caressing me gently.

"You look beautiful," he whispers, his warm breath hitting my cheek and when I lean back into him, he places lots of little kisses against my jaw and my neck, until he stops, gazing at our image in the mirror. "We do look good together, don't we? Not a day over forty."

He makes me laugh, but he's right. We do look good together. Quite a few days over forty, but good. Happy and relaxed. And Andy … well, he does look very attractive. I could loose myself in this moment, my ring catching the light and sparkling magically.

"You feel even better than you look." He runs his hands along my sides and over my belly. "Remind me to thank Gavin for making sure my wife is always so perfectly dressed."

It's not like I have a lot of maternity outfits to choose from, but the soft grey cashmere dress with the low neckline is one Andy really likes.

"How is little Miss Flynn?"

"I thought we had given her a name?"

"We have," he turns me around in his arms, gallantly kissing my cheek. "Let me take you two out to dinner."

"Mrs. Flynn and little Miss Flynn would love to go out to dinner with you."

The table is set with linen I haven't seen in ages and my beautiful family china and there are candles everywhere in the living room.

"You've outdone yourself, Andy."

"You haven't tasted the food yet. Sit down, my love." He pulls out my chair and makes sure I'm sitting down comfortably before placing another kiss on my cheek.

I feel like I'm on a date, such a wonderful evening with soft music playing in the background and Andy's amazing food. We are holding hands getting lost in the touch and in each other's eyes. Andy compliments me and I can feel myself beam happily, a familiar hum in my chest. I love that he is doing this for me. Just yesterday evening he found me on the balcony looking out over the city. "I need to take you on a date," he had said with a mysterious smile. I love even more that our little one is gentle with me tonight stretching lazily but mostly sleeping.

When we have finished dessert and Andy is enjoying his espresso, I clear my throat and his eyes meet mine. A smile spreads over his face when I slide a small parcel over to him. I made sure to wrap it myself and drew a few hearts on it, because I could.

"You are giving me a present?"

I nod enjoying the surprised look on his face.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

My heart beats faster as I imagine his reaction to my present, the expanse of table we've previously been bridging with our connected hands suddenly too wide. I don't know whether it is because Andy is a good detective and particularly good at watching me or whether my face is just an open book for him to read, but before I can even acknowledge on my own feelings he is by my side wrapping me in his arms. And now I am impatient, because I do want to see whether he likes his present, so I nudge him. "Open it, Andy."

He makes quick work of the wrapping paper and the box. Recognition dawns on his features and before I know it, I am pressed up against his chest, his hands in my hair angling my head so he can kiss me - and what a kiss it is. It's almost too intense and I can feel the muscles in my abdomen contract painfully in response to the stimulus. Oh well, this is worth a little discomfort. Andy is the one who pulls back first, smiling down at me and tenderly running a hand along my cheek, his fingers warm and familiar against my skin. His next kiss is to my forehead.

That's the reaction I was hoping for. My heart is still beating a little faster and I rest against his chest with my eyes closed when I hear his voice in my ear, "Will you put this on my finger?"

I take the ring out of the box. It matches the one Andy gave me and I've held it a few times during the past weeks imagining this very moment. Andy's hand in mine is warm, heavy, familiar and a bit humid. He is nervous, I realise, and I take the time to find his eyes and smile. The ring slides on easily, a perfect fit, just like we are.

/

This past week at home with Andy has been just that, perfect. We finally have time for each other, for all the little talks and gestures, questions and caresses that are so important in a relationship. It does us both a world of good to be able to sleep in and just spend time together. It's like the honeymoon we never went on. We don't have any responsibilities but to be together. Well, Andy does go on the occasional food run and he cooks for me, but mostly, we lie in bed and cuddle, talk and sleep.

I should do the calculation at some point, I feel like we have spent an inordinate amount of time in bed together over the past months. For all the obvious reasons, of course, but for much more. Andy proposed to me in our bed. We've held each other when either one of us has been scared or upset and many more times when we just enjoyed being together. Here, we have laughed and we have watched my stomach grow and the kicks of our girl get stronger and stronger. It's here that we have come together at the end of a day at work to just be us, two people in love rather than Captain and Lieutenant. I bought this bed when I moved into the condo treating myself to the luxury of a king-size even though I was alone. I had not expected to share my bed with a man again, let alone conceive another child here.

At the end of the week, I notice a profound change in me. It's not just my blood pressure that has been returning to normal levels and my anxiety that has been replaced by a quiet joy and pleasant anticipation of the birth of our daughter. My appearance has changed, my eyes are clear and have such an intense colour now, there is colour in my cheeks and my belly is really growing. Naomi had said that I could be gaining a bit more weight with my pregnancy and Andy had seemed determined to make that happen by constantly spoiling me with all my favourite foods and feeding me little delicacies he's cooked or baked throughout the day.

/

We were lying on our bed, facing each other. Andy was feeding me vegetable quiche he had made earlier, placing piece after piece into my mouth and visibly enjoying the process.

"You are such a mother hen, Andy," I laughed between two bites. Gosh, this really was delicious, particularly all the kisses I got in between bites.

"Nuh, you're the mum to be, what I'm doing is called looking after the woman I love."

Andy, always looking out for me. Maybe this was the 'in' I had been looking for to start a conversation of who would look after him. Well, of letting me look after him.

"You are doing a great job looking after me. How are you holding up, Andy?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Don't deflect, I'd like to know how you are feeling, Andy."

"I'm feeling fine. You're the one carrying our little girl."

"Hard to miss, uh?" I caught his hand that had been about to put another piece of quiche into my mouth. "I'm carrying her, but you're her dad, and you're my husband, you are just as much affected as I am. You are always there for me, you are always looking out for me. I honestly don't know how I could go through this pregnancy without you."

"My guess is you wouldn't be pregnant without me."

"Andy, sssh. Don't joke. Take a compliment from me. You are a wonderful husband, there is not a day that does by that I am not so grateful for having you. But this pregnancy hasn't been easy on your either. You've been by my side, by our side, through some very difficult moments. The ambulance rides, your wife collapsing in your arms, the time at the hospital." I looked into his eyes and I could see he really was listening now.

"So when your wife asks you how you are doing, I think you should tell her. I love you, Andy. I know this harrowing. We need to keep talking so we don't loose each other in all the worry. You have every right to be worried, to have doubts. You remember those years when we were just friends?" The memory made me smile. I had liked being friends with Andy.

"We used to tell each other everything, we used to talk about what worried us and what made us happy. The early days of our relationship and the pregnancy were still like that, but now our whole life seems to revolve around the pregnancy, around me, around our daughter. I don't want to loose you in all that, I don't want to loose what was so special about us. My body may be struggling with this pregnancy, but my heart is here to support you and be your friend and your companion. Andy, my darling, I want you to know you can tell me about your doubts, your insecurities, your worries as much as all the happy moments, the joys."

I stopped and took a deep breath. That had been a long speech and I had watched him throughout. Something in his features softened as he put aside the plate with the food and kissed me, a chaste kiss on the side of my mouth. Then he took my hand and brought it to his lips, smiling at me.

He opened up to me like he had before the pregnancy had become so fraught, so fragile, but he wouldn't have been Andy if he hadn't always managed to wave in a compliment for me. It was flattering, and somewhat infuriating, but he was talking and I was able to catch him.

"I am so grateful that you are home with me," he said, "that you are not in pain, that you don't have to stay in the hospital this time. I am so grateful that tonight I'll get to hold you and go in search of pillows for you. That when I wake up, I get to watch you sleep and if I'm lucky, our girl is awake and I can feel her move."

The pillows? If had been in his place, that would have been one of the most annoying things about me. It annoyed me having to resort to ever more tricks to find a comfortable position for my pregnant body.

"I constantly worry about you. It hurts me to see you struggle your way through this pregnancy. I feel so powerless, so helpless in the face of your pain. I can't change anything. I can hold your hand, but I can't stop your contractions. I can hold you when you are anxious, but I cannot promise you everything will be well. There is no suspect here, nobody to blame. That's hard, Sharon. If anything, I only have myself to blame for all your pain."

"Andy, why would you blame yourself for my pain?" Why would he? I was pregnant and at my age, that almost automatically came with some discomfort.

"It's fairly straightforward, sweetheart. I blame myself for getting you pregnant in the first place, for not thinking about the consequences of my actions."

"Andy, you need to know that I would do the same all over again. If we were to rewind our lives, I would make love to you again and I would get pregnant again." If anything, we were both mature adults who should have considered contraception. I was as much at fault as Andy was for that decision. "I would not change this pregnancy, as difficult as it is and may continue to be. I am happy that I am carrying your child."

"Me too, Sharon. It's not that I regret having a baby with you. How could I? I'm so excited that we a having a daughter together. It boils down to that. It's just hard to see you suffer and those moments like now, when you are relaxed and smiling, I need them. They are the silver lining when I feel overwhelmed. I love seeing you like you are now, so relaxed and confident and happy. I need this. I need these happy moments."

"So do I, Andy," I reassured him. " In the end, what we are living is a miracle. A baby at this stage in our lives is an absolute miracle and however difficult the pregnancy may have been on me so far, our daughter is perfectly healthy. I don't mind the pain and the discomfort, because our little girl is growing and getting bigger every day. And look at us: isn't that a miracle, too? The ice queen and the hothead?"

Maybe I shouldn't have said that last bit because he inhaled sharply, his features clouding over. I reached out to run my hand down his side silently asking him if he was okay. His fingers curled around mine.

"There was a time when I called you that and I never apologised, Sharon. All the name-calling, the awful talking about you behind your back. How can you not hate me?"

"Oh Andy, that was years ago. You have changed. I won't hold your past against you. This," I took his hand an rested it on my stomach "you and I and our daughter, we are not about the past, we are about the present and the future. Just for the record, the children and I had so much fun when I told them about Darth Raydor. Ricky thought it was hilarious."

"Still, I am not proud of that. And really, Sharon, I was an idiot."

"According to your best friend you still are. We both are. You know what? I love being idiots with you. I love you, Andy."

Andy had put his lips against mine after that in an intense yet infinitely gentle kiss that soon had me humming in pleasure pushing all thoughts from my mind for a moment.

/

When we are getting ready for bed, he asks me how I found a matching ring without even leaving the house.

"It seems that our daughters are just as ready to conspire with me."

I like the idea that Nicole and Emily are "our" daughters now just as much as the one I'm still carrying. The merging of our two families has gone remarkably well so far. I'm not so naïve as to believe that it will always be like that, but I think we have a good basis on which to build this family.

I am grateful that all our children are accepting of our relationship and our love, but even if they weren't, I would not give up Andy for anything, my best friend and my beloved husband.

/

"I have a surprise for you, sleeping beauty."

"Oh, you do? Come here, let me kiss you. I haven't seen you in almost two hours!" I sat up and waved him over to pull him into a tight hug. He smelled wonderful, all Andy and fresh air and something else. Wood? Pine, I would guess.

"Slept well?"

"Mmh."

"Miss me?"

"Always. You smell great, like you've been chopping down a forest."

"Let's just say it was already chopped down, all I needed to do was to put together."

"You set up the nursery? Andy! While I was sleeping? How come I didn't hear you?"

He pulled back and kissed my nose. "You just need to know everything, don't you? Turns out your balcony comes in quite handy for DIY and I might have had some help from Rusty. Come, let me show you, we've been waiting for you to wake up."

The pride on Rusty's face when he showed me his sister's cradle was impossible to miss and Andy stood next to him with an equally proud look on his face. Over the past months, Andy has really stepped into the role of father for Rusty - much like I stepped into the role of his mother all these years ago. Rusty now actually asks Andy for advice. Next to finally having the nursery finished, which was obviously a relief, Rusty's proud and happy face was the best part of this day.

That night, I found Andy in our daughter's room. It's painted in a beautiful mix of warm yellows and oranges now. All Andy's handiwork, too. I quietly lowered myself onto the bed and watched him. He was completely absorbed in his work on the cradle and didn't even notice me sitting there until he stretched and turned around.

"Thank you for letting Rusty assemble the cradle. I know how much you wanted to do that yourself." Because I do. Andy had talked about it pretty much since the day we found out we were expecting. I like having such a hands-on husband!

"Who am I to stop the kid if he finally wants to do something more useful with his hands than play chess. Little woodwork never hurt any man."

"Did those chess player hands work to your standards?" I joked and he looked like he had been caught, shrugging his shoulders with a cute smile.

"Just making sure…hey, I love the kid, but he's not exactly an expert in this and it's our girl who'll be sleeping in here."

"Quality control, eh?" I offered.

"Yeah, quality control. Don't tell him."

"I won't. I was half expecting you to do that anyway."

"You know me too well."

"Always looking out for the ones you love, not leaving anything to chance if it concerns your girls."

"You do almost sound as though you like that."

I chuckled. "I do enjoy having my own personal handyman and bodyguard. It's part of your appeal, Andy."

Andy got up and sat down on the bed with me, pulling me into his arms. "What happened to Ms. 'I'm gonna climb up the Christmas tree all by myself'?"

"Too pregnant for all that now."

"So you'll start pushing back once you've delivered?" he asked nuzzling his face into my hair.

"Ah, you know, I just might. You better enjoy this while you can." Then again, I might not, at least not quite as forcefully as I used to. "Did Rusty miss anything?"

"No, it's perfect. I'll tighten the screws once more when we bring her home." One of Andy's hands slipped under my top and I hummed in pleasure. I love how he does that like it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

/

Taking my blood pressure has become a part of our daily routine and in the evenings, it's Andy who wraps the cuff around my arm and takes the last reading of the day. I'm already half asleep enjoying the gentle touch of his fingers against my skin when I hear him chuckle.

"You sure know how to flatter a man. I go through all the trouble of a candlelight dinner and your blood pressure is even lower than yesterday?"

Because I am completely relaxed and calm when he is around me. There will come a time when he'll once again make my blood boil, but for now, he helps me relax.

Because everything is ready for our daughter now. Our girl will have a place to sleep and clothes to wear when we bring her home.

Because we are going to be parents. Soon we will have a little baby girl who will need our love, and care, and undivided attention. We, her parents are waiting for her, waiting to give her all that.