Saturday, Sept 10, 2022- 35 weeks

I return from the supermarket, dropping multiple bags on the counter, and begin unpacking them. As I'm putting away the groceries, I notice the hum of the washing machine going in the mud room off the kitchen. I check the time on my phone, three-seventeen. It's still hours until it's time for Sheldon to start the laundry. Today marks one month until my due date. There are still moments I can't wrap my head around the fact that we decided to start a family two years ago and now we're a matter of weeks away from meeting our baby.

Wandering into the living room, I find Sheldon in his work nook, studying the equation on the board in front of him, "They had strawberry ice cream on sale, so I got you two containers. I thought that should last you a while." He turns around at the sound of my voice, capping the marker in his hand. "It's early for you to be doing laundry. Do you have plans with the guys later?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just thought I could finish it early today and get some work done this evening. Are you doing anything this evening?"

Sheldon asked me what my plans for the day were this morning; he knows I didn't have anything planned. I guess he wants to check that hasn't changed since he last asked. The closer I get to my due date, the more he's been keeping tabs on my whereabouts. I don't mind; I know it's because he's worried about us. While that would have driven me crazy even a few years ago, I find it sweet now. "Nope, I was thinking of finishing the book I've been reading with a cup of tea in bed."

"That sounds nice. I have another load of laundry, plus the sheets and towels need to be washed, but I can wait until tomorrow to wash those rather than deal with that tonight so you can relax in bed."

I retreat to our bedroom with the book I picked up at the library earlier this week, only to emerge when Sheldon calls out that dinner is ready. It's a quiet meal that ends with Sheldon stating he'll clean up and I can go back to my book. I'm nearing the end of my book when Sheldon enters our bedroom with a mug in his hand, "I made you tea."

"Why?" My inquiry comes out sounding much more suspicious than I meant it to. "Sorry," I quickly apologize. "Thank you." Sheldon nods as I accept the mug before leaving me alone again. That's when I hear the water running in the bathroom. "Are you taking a bath?" He rarely bathes in the evening, and when he does, it's because he's taken the bus and doesn't want to go to bed covered in bus germs. He hasn't taken the bus today to my knowledge.

Sheldon pokes his head out of the bathroom door, "No, that's for you." I start to scooch off the bed when I'm stopped. "It will be a few minutes before it's ready. Just relax and enjoy your tea until I tell you to come in." Dropping back against the pillows, I reach for the mug resting on the nightstand. I'm sipping the tea as I listen to Sheldon moving about in the bathroom. He turns the fan on, then off again before slamming the cabinet under the sink, "Sorry. I didn't mean to do that," he calls out. I finish half of the mug of tea before Sheldon emerges, "Okay, it's ready."

He steps next to the bed, holding out his hand to help me up. Smiling up at him, I accept the assistance. Sheldon leads me by the hand into the bathroom, where he has a few candles on the counter and music is softly playing from his phone. "What is all of this?" I ask while Sheldon pushes my cardigan from my shoulders.

"This is for you. I'm taking care of you. Pampering you, if you'll let me. The bath water is the perfect temperature. The pampering will continue after the bath, as well." I want to be suspicious of Sheldon after hearing stories from Penny and Bernadette when their husbands act like this, but this is Sheldon. He would never do something that he would try to hide from me with a distraction like this. Sheldon has never done anything like this for me, unless I count the time I faked being sick and he helped me bathe.

Sheldon extends his arm for me as I lower into the warm water. Surprisingly, he settles on the floor next to the tub. "You're staying?" I ask, a bit of surprise in my voice.

"Yes," he nods. "I'm taking care of you tonight, not leaving your side, unless you prefer being alone." I shake my head without saying a word. Sheldon leans against the side of the tub, dipping his hand in the water until it finds mine. I drag his fingers across my stomach, stopping when I feel our son move. We sit in silence for several minutes, watching the occasional hand or foot outline appear as the baby shifts inside of me. The water is beginning to cool when I'm instructed to lean forward and tilt my head back. Sheldon dips a plastic container in the water, using it to wet my hair. He spends the next several minutes washing my hair for me. It's only after Sheldon helps wash my back that he holds out his hand again to help me up. I step over the side of the tub into the towel that's being held out for me. Wrapping it around me, Sheldon pulls me into his arms, hugging me close. I'm led into our bedroom after being handed a fresh nightgown.

"Thank you for that. It's harder for me to get in and out of the tub on my own with him getting bigger. Crazy that we only have a few more weeks until we meet him."

Sheldon fumbles with retrieving something from his top dresser drawer before turning around and pointing at the bed. I take his silent instruction and sit on the side of the bed. "I noticed that the blue nail polish you like for your toenails is almost empty, so I got you a new bottle." I'm about to thank him and point out that it's been months since I've painted my toenails when he continues, "I thought I could paint your toenails for you. Now, I couldn't find the exact shade you had. I suspect they either no longer make it or the cutesy name was changed, but I think this is a pretty close replacement."

I recline against the pillows while Sheldon sits near the end of the bed, lifting my feet into his lap. He methodically paints each nail. He's never done this for me before; he's better at painting my nails than I am. Before I know it, he's stretching to place the small bottle on the nightstand next to me before he ever so gently kisses my cheek. "I love you."

"Sheldon," I sigh. "I love you, too. This was nice. Thank you."

"It came up on my schedule for us to have coitus today. I read that coitus can sometimes trigger labor in late pregnancy. I know it's only a few more days until you're thirty-six weeks and the doctor said anything after thirty-six weeks isn't considered pre-term, but I don't want to do anything that will cause our son to arrive sooner than he's ready. If you aren't showing signs of being in labor on your due date, we can have coitus then. Is that okay?"

He has moved to sit next to me against the pillows, allowing me to easily rest my head against his shoulder. "This evening has been perfect."

Sheldon's quiet for several minutes, shifting his position to slip an arm behind me as he quietly shares, "I was thinking of possibly getting rid of my random schedule after he's born. There have been times in the past year that it wasn't on the schedule, but I still wanted to be intimate with you." This does not come as a surprise to me. Similar comments have been made at various times, not only over the past year, but since we got married. "I've read it's recommended to wait at least six weeks after giving birth to have coitus. That will throw off the pseudo-random schedule. Plus, I've heard having a newborn can affect a couple's relationship. While I hope that doesn't happen to us, I don't want either of us to feel like we have to because an algorithm tells us to. I think we should wait until we're both ready and in the right mindset to be together, whether that be six weeks or six months."

"Sheldon," I lift my head and peck his cheek. "I know you make sacrifices for me and our relationship and will for our son in a matter of weeks. I don't want you to give this up because you feel like you have to. You should only be doing this if you want to get rid of your algorithm." I feel the need to remind him of something I haven't said in some time, "You know if it ever comes up on your schedule and you aren't interested, that's okay. We do something else, like today, spending time together, and appreciating one another in ways that don't involve coitus. We can be intimate with each other without being physical."

"Would it be okay if I don't delete it, rather silence it, and if we decide together we'd prefer to continue using it, I can turn it back on? Ooh," he suddenly sits up, "I can set it up on your phone with different parameters than mine so we have two different schedules."

There are days I swear this is not the same man who took nearly four years to kiss me. "Let's just see what happens after he's born."