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Okay here, with delay, the fourth chapter! If there are any questions just email me!

I don't own anything...

Fourth month

Ommmmm. Ommmmm. Ommmmm.

I'm doing yoga. I've been visiting a pregnancy yoga class. Supposedly it keeps you from having negative thoughts. And I really can't afford any other.

I got a direct connection to my little midget. It realizes more of the world outside every day.

I'm a proud mother. And it's time to share my happiness with the world. The results of the amniocentesis have arrived - everything okay. Thank god.

I cried on Cohen's shoulder when we got it. It's said so easy... I'm a modern women, I won't get a handicapped child... only the others have those.

A bad result would have triggered a tragedy. Honestly I don't know what I'd done.

It's really a bless (those words come easy over your lips when your pregnant - even if you didn't see a church from the inside since your wedding seven years ago).

So who do we have there, I'm browse through my address-book.

There is my cousin Jenny (two kids, one and seven years old). I'm sure she'll be happy for me.

"Pregnant? You? Are you completely insane? You're messing up your whole live! ... boom ... rattle I gotta go. We just got into world war three here. Call me when you had it... If I'm still alive then... And I always admired your independence."

Well. Not everybody can fall into tears of joy. Let's see who's next? Yeah: Zach Stevens. We dated for a short time in high school but since our break up we're really good friends. Purely platonic of course. He was into comics just like Cohen, they even created their own in high school. While Cohen sticked with it and started his own company, Zack is now a member of the congress. He's also quite successful.

"Pregnant? Oh my god, you of all people. I never thought that of you. The world is overpopulated. Didn't you learn anything in college? In twenty years the earth won't be able turn because theres so many man. And now you had to do your bit..."

Well, he's probably still pissed because I choose Cohen over him.

Doesn't matter. Uncle Sid will be next. My favorite uncle. Convinced bachelor with unbelievable wastage of women.

"Pregnant? Well, I hope the guy will marry you. If not he can just book a room in the next hospital!"

Oh, Uncle Sean. He's a darling. He still loves me like he did in the past when I was a little girl and he took me with him on his motorbike.

He set a wedding deadline till I'm eight months along. If Cohen wouldn't marry me by then he wanted to break him both arms. That's when I told him that we had a happy marriage for seven years now. Somehow he just forgot that fact. Besides... if he did I would have to feet Cohen and the baby. He was never very practical.

Claudia is next. She's an former colleague. She's been working freelance for a year now. She said she couldn't take the "bad vibes" in the office.

"A baby? You guys are brave. That's gonna be expensive. 80 000 till it graduates high school. And I didn't even include rate of inflation..."

Thank god she had to hang up. Her husband just arrived home and his aura looked horrible. She had to work with the rock crystal there.

Okay, now Joanna. Joanna York. We shared a tiny dorm room in our first year in college. She works at wall street now. The contact got less after we graduated but I'm sure she'll be happy for me.

"Pregnant? That's great! Really fantastic! That's the connection to mother earth."

She's happy for me! I can't believe it. Finally!

"When is your due? Mid of march? Oh dear..."

Pause.

"Really bad, really bad. It's going to be Pisces. Bad timing. Couldn't you do any better? I would have helped you to find the right time. After all you Leo and Seth's Capricorn. Pisces just don't fit at all... that's going to cause problems. Well, maybe the ascendant can save you..."

When I start to think about having the baby four to five weeks early, so the sign fits, she has got to go. Important stock exchange.

I've got enough. I hang up the phone and decide to go to bed as it rings. Anna Stern. Anna is Cohen's ex-girlfriend. I know that sounds kind of weird but we really got along great. They split up because of their missing chemistry and because Cohen fell in love with me... but all of that was in high school. She moved to Pittsburgh after that. When we got married she was my bridesmaid. In college we vacationed together. (Two weeks in Greece with some crazy French - I don't think I would've survived that without her.) We haven't seen each other in ages. She told me she was on journey through and wanted to meet.

"You're pregnant? That's fantastic. That is great news. I bet you really happy... since I got my little one everything is more fun than it was before... It's gonna be awesome, believe me... I feel like I am the luckiest women on the planet, I'm sooo happy for you... how about we meet tomorrow night! I so have to see your little belly!"

When I go to bed then and Seth's wraps his arms around me, his hands resting on my stomach, for a few seconds I'm also feel like the luckiest woman on earth.

World's just perfect as I lay here, Cohen snoring next to me, the baby sleeping inside of me.

I can see my baby eating all the stuff I ate today. Two Bagels, Three portions of fries, a huge banana split, two muffins and a barbecued steak with the size of a cow.

It drops itself in the banana split and loops everything eagerly. It grows and grows. And so do I. Cohen tries to use the covers as protection of my growing body. Useless. I'm getting to fat for the bedroom. And everything keeps on gowning. My whole body. I'm busting the house and then I'm floating over Newport like a big hot air balloon. With a scream I'm bursting.

That's the moment I wake up bathed in sweat.

With shaking hands I'm going into the bathroom. The bathroom scales tells me I've put on two pounds. And at least eighteen are about to follow. How I'm going to survive that? I used to have a figure.

But my boobs really look great. Better than wonder bra and a boob job combined.

Feeling a little bit better I'm going back to bed. They should invent a pregnancy that keeps your belly flat. We've been sending people to the moon since thirty years now and at the end of this I'm still gonna look like I swallowed a pumpkin. That figures! Men! It's about time we get more women into research.

It happened! My favorite pants are too tight. With a lot of force I'm able to pull the zipper all the way up. But if I do so, the baby isn't so delighted.

Aside of the problem of having no maternity clothes yet, I can't hide my belly for much longer.

That means I have to tell Bull soon. He's probably gonna fire me right away. And since I work freelance there's nothing I could do about it.

Oh dear... I gotta tell him. I've weaseled myself out of telling him for the last few hours. It's eleven o'clock already. I should make up something about Julia Roberts but everyone knows that he has the best mood in the morning. I get up determined. My child has a brave mother. A mother which faces the evil.

Exactly.

I'm in front of Bulls door as a crying 7 feet tall guy comes out and disappears in direction of the men-washroom. The new intern.

Oh, I almost forgot, I have to copy something really important and I go back to my office.

I thinking about letting Julia have twins another time as I smell a pushy perfume.

"I'd just tell him."

"Tell what?"

Joana is standing in front of me and smirking. Her and me are best foes. She had an affair with Bull and didn't miss a chance to teas me. Her little bitchiness stopped when her relationship to Bull ended and he tried to look under my skirt in the weekly editors meeting. She must have worried that I follow in her steps and turn the tables.

"You can wait for the contractions to set in."

Joana moved along and turned around after two steps, looking at me.

"Maybe he'll notice himself that your columns are full of babies. You created twenty two marital and forty five illegitimate babies in the last two months. And don't forget about the quintuples in the Arabian royal house. Have fun!"

She sings the last two words and leaves ass-shaking.

"You sexless, no, sorry, you sexless and infertile bitch!", I scream those words through the entire editorial office.

Everyone is looking at me. Well, the rage blackouts didn't get better with all the hormones circulating in my blood.

After that I tiptoe the way to Bulls office. I knock and get in. I'm sitting on a small chair in front of his desk. Dateless trick. But effective You are supposed to feel smaller then the boss.

He doesn't seem to notice me at all. He's typing and on the phone at the same time. London. Paris. Tokyo. Life as chief-editor must be great.

Who and who, who at all and how much is the divorce?

I'm ready to leave again, as he, still typing and on the phone, bawls at me:

"What's up?"

"Err... nothing, nothing at all."

Somehow I'm sounding like Madonna in the early years, when she felt like a virgin.

"Raise is impossible..."

"That's not it..."

"Then what is it? Just tell me! I'm busy!"

That sounds good. Apparently he's talking to Paris and London at the same time, still typing.

"I just wanted to tell you that I made coffee... and..."

He looks at me like I'd gone mad. His eyes look tired. Very tired. He's gonna snap any moment now so I just tell him.

"... and I'm pregnant. And I know you can fire me right away cos I'm freelance and everything but I really need this job. Until the birth and right away afterwards. My husband doesn't make that much money at the moment..."

My voice turns into a high squeak. I could get into a competition with Fran Drescher.

Bull gets out of his chair and looks at me with flashy eyes.

Waaah! I'm dead!

Am I insane, telling him I'm pregnant?

Five minutes later I'm lying covered in a cashmere plaid on a fucking expensive and fucking uncomfortable designer couch and starring at the ceiling.

Bull comes in with a cup of Chicken soup in his hands (from the delicatessen store across the street).

"You need to rest now. That's really important!"

Bull looks ecstatic at my belly, until today he just looked ecstatic at my boobs.

"A baby. In there. Amazing."

He tests the soup before giving it to me - can't be to hot. Then he looks at me bashful.

"Could you... I don't wanna be intrusive, my wife and me have been trying for years... could you bring a ultrasound picture tomorrow? I'd love to see the little thing..."

I'm nodding and wondering (how is Bulls wife supposed to get pregnant if his sperm is out of the office all the ... not my problem).

He leaves, not without making me promise to take a ten minute break every hour.

Outside I hear him yelling that nobody is allowed to disturb me. A mother-to-be needs calmness. I really don't know what to think about that. As Joana comes in, asking me if I need anything, I know what I think about it. That's great.

Joana has been drafted to be my personal feel-good-assistant. She's supposed to get me chicken-soup every day. Good for the baby. The only bad thing - I hate chicken soup.

Pink flowered bedclothes. I didn't know that there are women who wear something like that. I also didn't know that there are women who get so fat!

I'm in the middle of a popular and expensive maternity-clothes-store.

Do those designers think women lose every sense for fashion because of hormones?

The whole thing probably works like "I'm fat and unattractive - so what the hell?"

And if you think about it... two hundred twenty three dollars and fifteen cent are not to much for a pink-colored flowered six-men-tent.

Looking at it biological and evolutionary you already reached the target of lingerie, high-heels and mini-skirts. You need all that stuff for attracting the right hubby and having babies with him.

Why wanna look attractive at all? This kind of clothes are for preparing. Pregnancy is a time of change. Nothing will be the same after it.

Woman becomes mother.

Wonder bra becomes nursing-bra.

Heels become Jesus-Sandals.

Gucci skirts become tracksuit-pants.

Maybe it isn't so a bad idea to prepare for the nice things to be over.

I'm escape from the hell of bad taste, right into my good old South Coast Plaza.

What are the odds? I'm leaving the mall with some imitation leather pants with a elastic waistband.

I'm pregnant.

I'm sexy.

Let it know everyone.

Say it out loud, I'm pregnant and I'm proud.

I put on my new maternity-pant together with my newest Manolo's (Four inches heels - I just hope I don't fall and hurt the baby).

Cohen pets my little belly and kisses my neck.

"You're the hottest mother-to-be I've ever seen."

I'm all smiles. I love him. He'd probably say the same if I lay in the delivery-room, bathed in sweat for twenty hours.

We're going out. Into the most fanciest restaurant of the city. We couldn't even afford it but my Dad is invited us. We wanna tell him today.

I'm not sure he'll like the word Grandpa. It just doesn't match with his designer-suits and designer-live.

And there she is: My step-mommy. Shirley. 29 years old. Blond (typical). Blue eyes (also typical). A waistline like Barbie. In a fucking expensive white slack suit. Next to her I feel like a mop withing minutes.

I hate her. Okay I'm bitchy I admit it. I guess most women don't like their stepmothers. But a stepmother who's younger and looks a lot better then yourself is just to much. But if I'm honest I hate her the most for having a PhD.

Dad wants to fill up my glass with wine but I cover the glass with my hand.

"No more for me. Thank you."

I'm looking hostile at Shirley.

Okay... she looks better. But I'm fertile.

Okay... she's a doctor and I graduated college with pain and misery. But I'm having a baby.

My self confidence just went up for a few points. I'm kicking Cohen against his shin under the table.

He clears his throat.

"Well, we know life is a gift and today it kinda feels like Chrismukkah... To cut a long story short... Summer's pregnant."

My dad looks at us confused for a second. I'm preparing myself for the worst. He's going to freak out. Kill Cohen or worse.

But then he smiles.

"That's wonderful. Summer and Seth. A baby."

With my mouth dropped I hear how my father orders a bottle of champagne. Ooookay... he was kidnapped by aliens...

Then he turns back to us.

"Well, we all do know that life is a gift. And I think today really feels like ... Chrismukkah. We didn't wanna tell anyone but", he's reaching for Shirley's hand "Shirley is pregnant too. We didn't want to tell anyone because she's only two months along but in that case we have to celebrate together."

My dad beams with joy. Shirley beams with joy. Cohen beams with joy. And somehow out of politeness my corners of the mouth go up too.

"Isn't it wonderful?"

I'm starring at Shirley. My nails claw into Cohen's hand and a soundless scream escapes his lips.

This woman is out of plastic. She won't have a baby, she'll have a baby doll. One those with batteries that cry when you raise the left arm and pee when you drop the right one.

"It is wonderful. I'm so delighted for you guys."

I bring these words with gritted teeth. Seth's hand is probably bathed in blood by now. After that I drink two glasses of champagne in a row. My baby has to forgive me. But I really have to daze my wounded self-confidence to get through this night.

How to you breastfeed with silicone-tits anyway? Does the baby get some of the gel together with the breast milk?

And what happens during the pregnancy? Do they explode?

My father isn't ashamed for anything. Oh my God. Not only do I have a stepmother who is younger than me. That is already a hard blow for a woman in her thirties.

But my baby is going to have an aunt or uncle who is younger than itself. How am I supposed to explain that to my little one?

When I was a kid the world was alright. Uncles were age-old men with beards and aunts wore womans-suit and heels and smelled like perfume.

My baby's uncle is going to wear diapers and the aunt will play with a rattle. Great new world.

At the end of the night I say goodbye to Shirley with a peck on the cheek.

"I'm so excited your gonna be the step grandma of my baby."

Her smile freezes.

Well at least a little triumph on my side. She might me younger and prettier but I'm not gonna be mother and grandmother at the same time.

Pink. Pink. Pink.

Barbie dolls, little dresses, barrettes, bathing suit with frills. A doll house with tiny furniture.

I'm browsing through one of the uncountable baby's-equipment-catalogs.

It's going to be a girl.

We got that result with delay.

A girl.

When I told Anna about how I wanted my Baby's room to be pink and chock-full of dolls, she gave me a lecture about feminism. But I don't give a shit. I just gonna have so much fun to play with that things myself. My girl will also be the proud owner of a plastic horse. It's a tradition after all.

And aside from all that pink stuff I will show her how to break a wild horse, win the noble prize of physics, drink men under the table and get what ever she wants. Alright.

Cohen is excited. He wants to teach her how to play play station and everything about comics. I guess I will have hard time to not let her become a geek.

His clenched fist comes down on the breakfast table. My decaf coffee swashes harmful.

"Oh no. That can't be true."

"What going on?"

I'm looking up of my pink bubble.

"Calf's controlled by there hormones."

I'm just looking at him.

"Water polo players."

"Still ... not clicking!"

"I'm talking about boys. All of them going to want date her. And all just looking for one thing. But not with my little girl!"

I have to apply the emergency-break right now.

"Honey, don't you have to go to the office? It's almost 9:30."

"What? Shit! I have a meeting in five!"

With that he disappears in the hallway putting on his jacket.

Before leaving he sticks his head through the door: "Promise me she won't be allowed to date till she's twenty one and has to be in bed every night at ten o'clock. Alone of course."

I'm nodding with a big loyal smile.

I'm leaning back with a cup of tea in my hands. Thank God I'm not sick anymore. I have enough time till I have to go to the office.

A girl. Isn't that wonderful? Isn't life wonderful?

I would have taken a boy too. But if I'm honest: I secretly hoped for a girl.

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