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"Alright," Freddie announced as he returned home carrying a large bag of groceries. "I had to go to four different grocery stores, but I think I got everything you asked-whoa. It's freezing in here!"
"No, it's boiling," Sam snapped as Freddie set down the bag of groceries on the coffee table and leaned down to give his very pregnant wife a quick kiss. She was laying down on the sofa, fanning herself with a magazine.
"The pregnancy must be giving you hot flashes," Freddie told her.
"No, I thought it was Santa Clause!" Sam said irritably.
Freddie ignored this comment, all too use to Sam's mood swings by this point. "Let me go get you some ice water," he said. "Here, I picked up the pickles you wanted…And if you give me a little bit I'll have that chicken cooked and you can-"
"I don't want pickles anymore," Sam said. "Or chicken."
"But-But I got the special sauce to cook the chicken in that you love!" Freddie. "And I had to drive all around town to find these weird jalapeño pickles you wanted and-"
"Oh I'm sorry, was that inconvenient for you?" Sam said in what Freddie knew to be a falsely sweet voice. "Well why didn't you say so? We'll trade places. I'll go on a few errands and you can have a person growing inside of you!"
"Er…I'm good," Freddie said quickly. "But if you don't want what I got, then what do you want?"
"Oh I don't know, I could go for some tacos," Sam said. "No…spaghetti. Yeah, spaghetti. Wait, no…I want I want fish sticks. Wait, go back to the tacos and-"
"Baby, I can't get you dinner if you change your mind every minute," Freddie said gently. "If you just give me a definite answer I'll be more than happy to run out and get you whatever you want."
And then, just like that, Sam's annoyed expression morphed into a sad one, and her lip began to quiver.
"Well it's hard to make up my mind sometimes, okay!" she cried.
"Sam," Freddie sighed as Sam struggled to get to her feet. "Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-let me help you up and-"
"No, I can get up on my own!" Sam said as she smacked his arm away. "I'm pregnant, not immobile!"
"Look, just tell me what you want to eat and I'll-"
"No, no, I'd hate to trouble you!" Sam snipped as she stormed, or waddled, out of the room.
Freddie rubbed his temples, taking a few soothing breaths.
"One more month and she'll be back to normal," he told himself. "It's just the hormones. She has it a lot worse than you do right now…she's carrying your child. You need to be sensitive. Even if it does mean going to four stupid grocery stores for pickles…"
…..
An hour later, Freddie stepped into his and Sam's bedroom where Sam was sitting against her pillows on the bed, messing around on her Pearpad.
"Okay," Freddie said, setting down several take-out containers. "Since you, er, were having a tiny bit of trouble deciding what you would like for dinner tonight, which is totally rational, by the way, I figured I'd cover all the bases. So I picked you up some burgers, cheeseburgers, fried chicken, some Ceaser wraps, Chinese food, fajitas, tacos, sushi and pizza. Take your pick."
Sam set her Pearpad down, staring at the selection in awe.
"You went to all these places?" she asked softly. "For me?"
"Well, yeah," Freddie nodded. "You need your nutrients, Sam. What kind of husband would just let his pregnant wife go hungry?"
"Aw, baby!" Sam smiled, leaning over to give him a kiss. "That-That's the sweetest thing anybody's ever done for me!"
Cherish this, Freddie told himself as Sam picked up a piece of pizza. Maybe if I'm lucky she'll stay in this good mood…
"So I'm thinking I'll finish everything up in the nursery this weekend," Freddie said as Sam continued to eat. "Spencer's gonna come by and help me set up the crib. And then hopefully I'll have time to go pick up the changing table from the store."
"Hmm," Sam said. "Sounds fun."
"Well I don't know if I'd say fun, but-"
"You know what I'll be doing this weekend?" Sam said, her nice, happy tone disappearing as she set her pizza down. "Nothing! I can't do anything because I'm eight months pregnant! I can't go walk around the mall because my feet are killing me, I can't go get smoothies with Carly because they've been making me puke lately, I can't even sleep in because I'll be up by five to pee! The highlight of this weekend will be seeing if I can still even fit into my sweatpants!"
And the good mood is shot, Freddie thought sadly.
"Sam, it's natural for you to feel like this during the last bit of the pregnancy," Freddie said, moving next to her and urging her to sit up a bit so he could begin rubbing her back, one of the few things that could actually calm her down lately. "But just remember, one more month and then it will be over."
"No," Sam said harshly. "In one more month I have to shove a person out of me! Easy for you to be all 'one more month' when you're not gonna be the one in pain!"
"Come on," Freddie said, giving her a small smile. "I'm sure it won't be that bad."
The moment the words left Freddie's mouth, he knew that had been the stupidest thing he had ever said.
"Not that bad?" Sam yelled. "Oh so you think it's gonna be a breeze? Hey, I know, halfway through why don't we take a fro-yo break?"
"Er, I-I don't the hospital will allow-"
"You've seen those dumb birthing videos that you made me watch!" Sam continued. "You think those women are screaming because it's not that bad? It's gonna be bad! It's gonna hurt, you dingbat!"
"Alright, alright, it's gonna hurt!" Freddie said quickly. "It-It's gonna hurt real bad!"
Sam swatted his arm. "Well don't tell me that and freak me out even more!"
"But you just-I-you said-" Freddie stuttered. "What do you want me to say, Sam? You don't want me to tell you it's not gonna be that bad, you don't want me to tell you it's gonna hurt, what do you want?"
"I don't know!" Sam said, tears suddenly falling from her eyes.
Freddie wasted no time wrapping his arms around her.
"I-I don't know what I want you to tell me," Sam sniffed. "I know it's gonna hurt. But-But I'm scared. And-And I try not to think about it, but I can't do anything else but think about because I'm trapped at home all day! And-And now I'm crying and I don't want to be crying but these dang hormones keep doing wonky stuff to me and-and now I do want those pickles you bought and-"
"Shh, shh, Sam, it's okay," Freddie said, kissing the top of her head. "I know you must be scared. I-I'd be terrified if it was me. And I know your going through a bunch of other stuff with your body, too. But you've done so good so far, baby. And it's almost done. Yes, there still is the actual birthing part, but I'll be right there by your side the whole time. You can call me names and insult me and break my hand and I won't say a peep. And remember…after this pregnancy, after the labor and the birthing…we get a baby. We get our very own child. When you start to think about how scary and hard it's going to be, just think of that instead. Think about finally knowing whether we'll be having a son or a daughter. Think about seeing who he or she looks most like. Think about holding that tiny little person in your arms for the first time. That will make it all worth it, Sam, I promise."
Sam looked down at swollen abdomen, giving a small smile. "I do really want to meet him or her."
"And I'm sure our little baby can't wait to finally meet his or her mom," Freddie said, placing a hand on her stomach, feeling a gentle kick from within.
Sam looked up at him, her eyes still shining through the tears, though Freddie knew that these were no longer tears of distress, but joyful ones.
"And his or her daddy," she whispered.
