Dreams to vows

Chapter 26

To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides. — David Viscott

POV: Priscilla 💕

As I woke up to another day of morning sickness, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of excitement and discomfort. The nausea had become a regular morning visitor, and while I knew it was a good sign that the baby was growing, it still wasn’t the most pleasant way to start the day. I glanced over at the ginger tea and saltines John had lovingly set up for me last night. Despite how busy he was, he always made sure to look out for me, even in the smallest ways.

Just as I was taking a sip of the tea, John wandered into the kitchen, his hair tousled from sleep, holding another cup of tea. His presence was comforting, a steady hand in the whirlwind of emotions and changes I was feeling.

"Morning, love," he said softly, placing the tea in front of me and giving me a quick kiss on the forehead. His eyes scanned my face with that familiar look of concern. “How’s the nausea today?”

"Just the same," I replied, trying to smile despite the churning in my stomach. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

John’s concern softened into a smile, and he reached over to rub my back gently. “Maybe it’s time we really start working on the nursery. I think it’ll help you feel more organized, and it’ll give us something exciting to focus on.”

I nodded, thinking about the empty room next to ours. We’d decided it would make the perfect nursery, but between our careers and my morning sickness, we hadn’t made much progress yet. John was right; getting that space ready for our baby would definitely help me feel more settled. And who knows? Maybe it would ease some of this lingering nausea. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ve been imagining what it could look like.”

As the weeks rolled by, we dedicated every spare moment we had to transforming that room. It was amazing how quickly the space changed from an empty, forgotten room into a bright, welcoming nursery. John surprised me with how handy he was, putting together cribs, changing tables, and other baby furniture with an ease I didn’t expect. I, on the other hand, spent hours choosing colors and decorations, imagining how our little one would see the room for the first time.

One Saturday morning, we decided to venture out to a baby store. The sheer number of options was overwhelming, but John was uncharacteristically animated. He was the calm, quiet type, but today he was like a kid in a candy store, examining everything with care.

"What do you think of this one?" he asked, holding up a modern, sleek crib.

I smiled, seeing his excitement. “I like it, but let’s take a look at a few more. We need something that fits the theme we’re going for cozy but playful.”

We spent hours walking through the store, inspecting every little detail. It felt like a dream—picking out the crib, the softest blankets, tiny baby clothes. John’s enthusiasm matched mine, and it made the whole experience even more magical. We laughed, joked, and shared our hopes for the future. It was one of those rare, perfect moments where life felt like it was unfolding exactly as it should.

When we got back home, the real work began. We spent an entire weekend painting the nursery walls a soft shade of blue, carefully chosen to be calming yet cheerful. John was meticulous with the paint, rolling it across the walls with such focus that I couldn’t help but tease him.

"Are we sure this is the right shade?" he asked, stepping back to inspect his work with a critical eye.

I chuckled, standing there with my touch-up brush in hand. "It’s perfect. You’re doing great, babe. We’ve created the perfect space for the baby."

Seeing the room come together made everything feel so real. With each piece of furniture we assembled, each toy we arranged, I could picture our baby here, growing, playing, sleeping. It was like we were building more than just a nursery; we were creating a home, a space filled with love and warmth, a reflection of everything John and I had built together.

One evening, after hours of work, we collapsed into the newly assembled rocking chair in the corner of the room. John took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, and looked around with a satisfied smile. “I can’t believe how much we’ve accomplished,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

I squeezed his hand, feeling the emotion well up inside me. “It is. And I’m so grateful we’re doing this together. I know it’s not easy juggling everything, but look at what we’ve built. Not just the nursery, but everything.”

John nodded, and for a moment, we just sat there in silence, letting the weight of the moment settle over us. The future felt bright, even with all the challenges ahead.

Of course, there were days when balancing everything felt overwhelming. John’s company was busier than ever with the contracts he’d landed, and my freelance business had picked up too, adding another layer of complexity. Some nights, after long hours of work, I’d find myself exhausted, wondering how we’d manage once the baby arrived. But John was always there, reminding me that we were a team.

One night, as I watched him attempt to fold a diaper, a task he had clearly never done before, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He looked up, sheepish, but with a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, don’t laugh! I’m going to master this before the baby gets here, just watch," he said, shaking his head at the tangled mess of cloth in his hands.

"You’re going to be an amazing dad," I told him through my laughter, reaching over to smooth out the diaper he’d so valiantly attempted to fold.

In those moments, the anxiety melted away. The laughter, the shared experiences, the love we poured into every detail-it was all a reminder that we didn’t have to be perfect. We just had to do our best, together.

As the days passed and the nursery neared completion, I found myself standing in the doorway more often than not, just gazing at the space we’d created. The crib, the toys, the soft blankets-it all felt so real now. Our lives were about to change in ways we couldn’t fully grasp yet, but I felt ready.

One evening, after John had gone to bed, I lingered in the nursery a little longer, running my hand over the crib’s smooth wood. I thought about our baby, how much love was waiting for them here. And as I stood there in the soft glow of the nightlight, I realized just how much my life had changed.

From the uncertainty I felt after graduation, to building my career, and now preparing for parenthood with the man I loved - it had all led to this moment. Balancing everything was hard, no doubt, but standing here, in this space we had created together, I felt a deep sense of peace. We were ready for the next chapter.