Okay, guys... here's chapter nine... I'm gonna split it up into three parts. And just that you know... (considering I get a lot of hits but not many reviews) I'll not update untill I get more than FIVE REVIEWS. Call it blackmail if you want... I call it self-help lol. To motivated you to review even more I'll also leave you with a huge cliffhanger this chapter! lol I'm mean I know!

I don't own anything!

Nine months

If you're as big as me it's even harder to believe. Even if I know it since the first appointment at my gynecologist. And somehow I just refuse to believe that. They just add a month.

What a mess!

In the past your pregnancy lasted nine months. Full stop.

It was the same with my mother and her mother. Everyone knew: After nine months you'll just pop it out.

Everybody is able to count to nine:

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight - Nine

It's so easy.

These days you are pregnant for ten months.

Maybe it's because the world is so screwed up today. The babies just don't want to come out. Just stay in there for another month.

Four weeks more! Four weeks! In my condition it feels like four years!

Cohen keeps telling me that it is a pure mathematically problem. The pregnancy only last ten months if you count it in weeks or in lunar months. It has only twenty-eight days then. But a month has at least thirty days and if you count that missing days...

I don't care!

I just don't wanna be pregnant anymore. And if it's just for nine minutes.

Nine seconds.

Nine nanoseconds.

Sight...

Unfortunately I'm gonna be pregnant for another seven weeks or 49 days or 1176 hours or 70560 minutes or I don't know how much seconds.

And if I am two weeks late I just gonna hang myself. Okay, there's probably no cord in this world that's strong enough to hold me.

But two weeks longer would be torture.

It's probably some kind of trick by mother nature. You getting so sick of your condition during the end you don't care under what terms or pain the baby comes out. Essential thing is that it comes out at all.

"Boston."

"Boston?"

"Exactly."

"Why do you have to go to Boston, now?"

"It's for business."

"I'm thirty seven weeks pregnant. I can't go to Boston either. I can't do anything at all. Not even tie my shoes."

"I got some clients there, that wants to talk to me today."

"But not in the middle of the night."

"Summer it will take me two days. Am I supposed to fly back and forth?"

"Yes."

"No."

"I'm pregnant."

"You won't keep me from doing my job."

"I don't keep you from anything. The baby does. It's yours too you know. Besides, you can go to Boston. You just can't stay over night."

"... do you want me to support you financial?"

"Yes. Cos I'm not gonna be able to work for the next few months. And even I wanted. Bull wouldn't let me."

"No one expects you to work."

"And no one expects you to stay in Boston over night."

"You are hysteric."

"You are ruthless."

"Don't queue up."

"I don't queue up. I'm pregnant."

"I know."

There's something in his voice I don't like at all.

Anyway, it's really interesting what image guys have of giving birth. You do it just on the side. Like brushing teeth.

Again nothing is changing for him, but everything is for me. I can't go out anymore, I can't work anymore, I can't do any sport, I can't dress the way I want to (because nothing fits anymore)... I could go on and on.

Nothing changes for Cohen on the other side.

He goes on with his job, flies to Boston whenever he wants to, can drink as much as he want to,...

And by the way he's becoming a father. But I'm trapped. For the next eighteen years at least.

"What's that supposed to mean?", I'm looking at him provoking.

"You've been pregnant since like ... ever. And as fatter you get, as stubborn you get."

"I'm not stubborn and if I am I got every right cos I'm pregnant."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"What?"

"Just because your pregnant doesn't mean you're always right..."

"I am always right! It doesn't matter if I'm pregnant or not."

Okay that was bullshit, but when I'm get upset, my brains just doesn't seem to work anymore.

"Summer."

"Cohen."

"I'm sick of hearing it!"

"What?"

"The word 'pregnant' and everything about it!"

"But I am and it's time for you to get that. I don't wanna be the only one who's life is changing."

"You're not - believe me! And I don't like it at all! I didn't even wanted a baby - not now at least. But nobody asked me!"

Ouch. That struck home.

He slaps the door behind him.

We really gotta paint that one...

Cohen slept in his office tonight and left in the morning with his baggage. He left a note to call him when it's time. He'll get into the next airplane.

Ooookay! Let's just say my water breaks at 3:41 am and let's also say I'm still able to call him then, till he's here we're celebrating Honeys first birthday.

But that's not the real problem right now. If I don't do anything soon, the birth is going to be our last shared experience.

That can't be happening! I have to talk to him. But he left his office already and his cell is turned off. I'm still in my pj's. But I have no time or my "I'm pregnant and wanna stay beautiful"-ritual. I just pull one of Cohen's sweaters over my pajama. There's also no time for putting on my sneakers. It would take me ages. So I slip into some high-heeled boots with a zipper. They're actually not suitably for a nine month pregnant lady but they're the only thing I can put on without help.

I also take Cohen's coat. It's all fluffy and smells like him.

I can't believe it. I'm sitting in the car, looking for a tissue in Cohen's coat-pocket and found a note.

Christina 17 01-21 2:00 pm

Mary 18

Cecile 16 02-02

Natalie

And it keeps going. At least ten girl names with numbers behind it. Some with little stars behind it. Some are crossed. Didn't bring it those ladies. Pah... Lady's... Girls, babies!

Cohen, you pig! I'm going to kill you!

You can't stand me being pregnant? Wait up! I'll show you what pregnant really means.

I start the motor and step on the gas.

I balance myself into the airport. How could I ever walk on that heels? My sense of balance got totally lost during the pregnancy. Maybe I should get myself a back bag filled with stones. That would equalize my honey belly.

Some people look at me disapproving.

Some old women in a jogging suit fizzed at her husband: "Not even ten o'clock and already drunken... really sad..."

I hear it anyway and stop for a second.

"I'm not drunken! I'm pregnant!"

She looks at me in shock: "Even worse! Did nobody tell you that alcohol isn't good for the baby! You cruel mother..."

I want to respond something but I don't have the time. Cohen's plane is leaving in a half an hour. So I hobble on.

Hurray! I made it to the check-in desk in time. But no Cohen. Maybe he stays here in Newport and let's all the girls show up at the hotel.

I get the note out of my pocket to throw it at him as soon as he arrives.

That's when I notice a small image at the edge.

Au-pair Agency Mary Poppins/ Owner Alexis McQueen

That's Alexis! The number fits.

Oh my god! I was so stupid!

Au-pair Agency!

God I was stupid!

Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!

Cohen is a darling! He wanted to organize a childcare for Honey. So I can take the job at Vogue. I love him! He's the best husband ever! And he'll be a great father.

Oh Cohen!

I was so stupid and so difficult and all you wanted to do was to help.

I'm so touched, my eyes get all teary.

And then I see him through a fog of tears.

He's making out with lanky blond from the coffee-shop.

You know the deal! FIVE REVIEWS! ;)