Growing up, she had always dreamed of having children of her own. Their bright eyes, their gurgling giggles, their grabby hands. She would often play house with her sister, the faithful wife to a charming and devoted husband. Even as she grew older, she would sigh wistfully as she imagined raising a tiny little son or daughter.
So after two years of trying, when she is three weeks late in her bleeding, she is overwhelmed by joy. When she tells her husband, he is relieved, and he goes about his days thereafter with a spring in his step. He is an attentive caretaker to her, going above and beyond to anticipate her every need and provide her with comfort. It makes her constant nausea seem worth it, to know that he is as invested in the growing life inside her as she.
When she begins to have odd cravings, he does not waver. He provides her with every her with every food she craves, unfazed by her sudden desire for red meats. If he comes home a little later, works a little longer to cover her expensive tastes, she does not mention it. He showers her with love and affection in their shortened evenings together, and she cannot bear to hold it against him when he is doing so for her sake.
She often keeps company with her sister, now an established midwife, in his absence. Her sister has seen several women through their pregnancies and has promised to see her through her own delivery. She assures the younger woman that her cravings are normal, something every woman experiences while carrying a child. During her own pregnancy, figs had held her favor, and later, her husband had planted her a fig tree, the fruits of which she now enjoys with her daughter. She tells her sister not to fret.
And when she first feels her baby kick, all her worries fade. She is brought to tears by her joy, and she thanks all the stars in the sky that she was blessed with the chance to love this child. Her husband, too, is delighted, and they often lie together, his palms resting upon her growing stomach. They speak of names and of the baby’s sex, dreaming up a future for just the three of them.
She grows tired more easily in the following weeks. She sleeps longer, and she takes frequent naps. She has frightening dreams, of miscarriages and premature births and of monster men holding her child. Her sister tells her this, too, is normal.
As her stomach grows heavier with child, it becomes harder for her to walk, and she sometimes has trouble breathing. Her husband dotes on her more than ever, comforting her when she is anxious about the changes in her body. She cannot see her feet over the edge of her swollen stomach, so he helps her walk around the house and serves her breakfast in bed often. He brings her presents and bathes her in compliments, reassuring her when she is down. She is thankful that he is by her side. She is not sure she would have been able to bear this burden alone. It is hard enough when he is away, and her sister cannot always be around. She has her own husband and child to attend to.

Her husband plans the baby shower. All their friends and family come, bringing their congratulations in the form of gifts. They receive rattles, cradles, clothes. Some of her husband’s friends bring her red meat, which makes her laugh

Sometimes her body tightens up and she thinks it is time, but she’ll shift and the discomfort will abide. Her sister says these are practice contractions, her body preparing her for true childbirth.

When her inner thighs soak with fluid from her water breaking, she knows it is for real this time.

Her husband and sister encourage her throughout the delivery. After the baby’s head pops out, her sister’s eyes grow wide. Her sister pulls her husband aside and whispers furiously with him, gesturing wildly at the baby. When they cease their conversation, she asks her sister what is wrong, but she is tight-lipped and grim-eyed. She assures her younger sister that the baby is not stillborn, which is a relief. Her husband has no such compunctions and simply continues encouraging her, excited and loving. If he is not worried, she supposed he should not be, either, and instead she focuses again on pushing through the pain.

When it is done, she rests. Her baby cries across the room as her sister severs the umbilical cord, but she is reassured to know that the baby is healthy enough to make such a racket.

When her sister nervously hands her a baby boy with four eyes and a pair of horns atop a head of curls, she is surprised, but she loves him all the same.