Nervous Nelly
Moffitt sighed from his "thinking chair" in front of the fire, glancing across to his wife, Pippa, sitting across from him in her special chair. Her eyes were closed and the book she had been reading dangled into her lap. Her feet were attired in fluffy slippers and propped up on a plump hassock. A plaid shawl was draped around her shoulders and partially covered her swollen belly. Moffitt sighed again as he nervously contemplated her expanding waistline. He was concerned the baby was too large and they still had a month to go. He noticed her feet were swollen as well sending his anxiety spiraling that all would be well.
It had been amazing watching her body change as their child developed inside her. He had read all the books on what to expect, and they discussed what was happening at every stage of the pregnancy. The first time he felt the baby move inside her brought tears to his eyes and a deep sense of awe he had rarely experienced.
There was only one month left to go, and he knew how uncomfortable she was feeling. It had been rough at the beginning with her being easily irritated and work driven. She snapped at the least provocation and then came morning sickness for several weeks. As her body grew and changed, she became easily tired and often fell asleep in her chair when she just wanted to put her feet up and rest a few minutes.
Throughout it all, Moffitt tried to be loving and supportive. He was overjoyed at the thought of them having a child, but he had worried every step of the way. He wondered what was the male equivalent of a Nervous Nelly. A nervous Ned? Whatever, it might be, he was the definitive example.
Now that it was drawing close to fruition, he was increasingly more nervous and anxious. What if the baby was too big? What if something went wrong with the delivery? What if she went into early labor? What if the baby was breech? What if the baby was stillborn? His mind kept creating all kinds of worrisome scenarios. Rarely could he relax and believe everything would go smoothly.
He supposed part of it was his concern over becoming a father. He had gone through a rough patch with his own father, and they had butted heads numerous times. He didn't want to repeat those mistakes with his son or daughter. He didn't want to project his own agenda onto his child but let them become who they were supposed to become. He wanted to support them in their life endeavors and love them unconditionally. He worried that he would fall into the same behavior patterns that caused friction in the relationship he had endured with his father. He didn't want to repeat that cycle.
His nervousness had caused him to contact Tully several times to talk about fatherhood in general and how the younger man had grown into the role. Tully was always easy to talk with and Moffitt felt better after they had spoken. He needed to learn how to control his anxiety, but it was so much easier said than done. He was a natural born worrier of monumental proportions.
Through it all, Pippa had calmed his fears and assured him everything was proceeding normally. She seemed so unfazed by the changes her body was undergoing and marveled in what she was experiencing. She moved with an elegance and dignity that reminded him of ancient fertility goddesses. Compared to her self-composure he was a trembling mass of Jello, unworthy to be her consort.
He sighed again as he watched her sleep. Despite the doctor's assurances that her weight gain was perfectly proportional to fetal development, Moffitt thought the baby looked terribly large. He couldn't recall any of his colleagues' wives looking that big when they were expecting. His worry about the baby being too large resurfaced. He was wise enough to keep that thought to himself, knowing that if he were to voice that concern, the result would be far more alarming than anything he had experienced during the war. It would also hurt her feelings, and he wouldn't do that for the world.
Another sigh escaped and Pippa opened one eye and spoke,
"I'm not really asleep, just resting. Could you please stop with the sighing and just tell me about what's worrying you now."
"I can't help myself," he confessed. "I just seem to grow more nervous as we get closer to the due date," She opened her other eye and smiled at her beloved husband.
"Jack," she said lovingly, "all is well. Relax. Enjoy this time. It might never come again so let's make the most of it."
"I know you're right, darling," he said leaning forward and taking her hand in his. "I'll try harder, and you need to remind me when my anxiety starts getting the better of me. The truth is, I can't wait to hold our baby in my arms."
"The feeling is mutual, love," she said reassuringly. "So, let's focus on what we are actually going to name this baby."