Best Laid Plans

Happiness

Perrie

"Damn, I'm so glad you let me talk you into that babymoon," Jade says with a content sigh from beside me in the bed.

"Stop looking at those photos, you perv." I hit her arm lightly, but can't help but laugh.

Jade convinced me to take a babymoon about eight weeks ago – when I was seven months pregnant. She rented us a private house with its own pool and beach access on a Hawaiian island, and I wore a bikini. You heard that right. Maternity. Bikini. Bask in the imagery with me.

One day, I cried and asked her how she could be attracted to me when I looked like a whale, but she just kissed me, telling me I was the most gorgeous girl in the world, and nothing could ever change that. She tells me that every single day. And every day, I fall more and more in love with her, if that's even possible.

I swear Jade started drooling the moment she saw me in my bikini. The fact that I can have that effect on her whilst looking like a balloon about to burst was empowering. She could barely keep her hands off me, and she took a bunch of photos of me that she loves to flip through. I'm glad she enjoys them. It'll give her something to jerk off to while I'm out of commission after the baby finally shows up. Which feels like it's never happening. I'm pretty sure I've been pregnant for about a year already. Sorry, I'm super testy and bitchy right now.

"We should take another trip," I suggest, "since this baby is clearly not coming anytime soon. Because apparently I'm gestating a giraffe baby and they incubate for something like fifteen months so we might as well make the most of our time. Let's visit my sister in Newcastle."

"Great idea. We'll do that after the baby arrives. Babies can technically fly after two days old, but I think we should give both of you six weeks before we travel."

"Why can't we just go now? All I do is go to the doctor every other day because I've been pregnant for a hundred weeks," I whine.

"It's not every other day," Jade says calmly. She's still flipping through photos on her phone, a small smile on her face.

"I bet I'm giving birth to a baby the size of Tubbs. A seventeen-pound baby."

Honestly, I still can't believe that cat is only seventeen pounds. Somewhere around the halfway point of this pregnancy I'd gained seventeen pounds and, convinced Jade was lying to me about what seventeen pounds looked like, I forced Tubbs-McGee to get on the scale with me for a weigh-in. Let me tell you, he was not very happy about that. Jade walked in in the middle of it, me in a bra and panties, standing on our bathroom scale holding sixteen point eight pounds of orange fluff.

She thought it was way funnier than I did.

"The doctor said the baby was measuring normally at your last appointment, four days ago." Jade sets her phone down on the nightstand as I get out of bed to examine the small bassinet we bought for the master bedroom. It's currently being used by Tubbs-McGee. Sound asleep. I swear he snores a little bit when I lean in to check on him.

"Uh, you don't get to be the judge of what is normal-sized versus super-sized unless it's living in your body."

"Fair enough."

"We need to get another bassinet."

"Why?"

"Because Tubbs likes this one." I look up, wondering why she's being so especially thick-headed. "I don't think they'll both fit in the same bassinet, Jade."

"Uh-huh." She nods slowly.

"We need to do that tomorrow. I'm already overdue and the baby could come at any moment. Where did we get this one, do you remember? Do you think we can get another one delivered tomorrow?"