*HADLEY'S POV*
Leave it to a man. My husband snoozes away while I'm freaking out.
As soon as I sit up, the nausea takes over even more and I have to run to the bathroom.
Ugh. Okay, let's think about this. Maybe I'm coming down with a stomach bug. Maybe the next door neighbor is fixing curry...wait, my next door neighbor is my sister and she hates curry.
Either way, I normally don't mind curry and now the very thought of it is making me want to head back to the toilet.
In retrospect, I have been an idiot for the past month.
Yeah, sure, let's stay in bed all month, bang like rabbits and just tempt fate.
In my defense, I couldn't help it. It was like a child with a new toy. It was me with my new (old) body, it was Mason playing with my new (old) body...and boy, did he...mmmm...
Shit, focus! This is how you got into this mess!
So now, a consequence to our month of living on nothing but love is of course, a child...or at least I think.
Maybe I'm not pregnant. Maybe I'm just getting sick and getting a migraine - that will enhance your senses. Yeah, that's it...no need to worry, right? Right?
Unfortunately, I'm just going to have to wait it out.
Since I can't sleep, I start painting, which relaxes me.
After awhile, I hear walking around above me.
"Mason?" I call out.
"Yup," he replies sleepily.
"Are you coming down?"
"After my workout," he answers, "I'm starting to get pudgy..."
Hmph...you and me both.
He continues, "Wanna spot me?"
*Eye Roll* That's Mason speak for "Wanna give me a reason not to work out?"
"Can't," I reply, "I think you broke me."
"Awww," he fake whines, "come on, baby, I'll fix you."
"Why didn't you suggest that before?" I mutter to myself.
"What?!" He yells down. Shit.
"I've already showered," I send up another excuse and hope that works.
"All right, all right, I'll just work out," He finally gives up.
I hear him huffing and puffing upstairs for around a half hour. He has a game today and he's not as young as he used to be, so he has to keep up his energy.
I just keep on painting because I don't have much to do...which makes me think...maybe having another baby might not be such a bad thing...I know I'm not as young as I used to be, but I'm certainly not ready to be put out to pasture...
In response, I feel a little kick and I notice my stomach is pooching out a bit more than usual.
Yup, no doubt about it, there's a little baby in there.
I want to tell Mason right off the bat, but he comes running downstairs in a panic.
"Have you seen my shoes?" He yells, running around the house.
"By the back door," I yell.
"Oh, thanks...but where's my knee pads?"
"Gym."
"Where's my helmet?"
"Same place."
I don't know what I'm worried about. I already have someone to take care of. What's one more person?
Mason runs around frantically looking for things while I tell him where they are and then heads over to the stadium for the closed meeting they have right before the game.
I'm not far behind him. I'm forced to sit with the new crop of football wives. The funny thing is there are maybe one or two women that are first wives and still married to their husbands, but most of them are second wives, so when I was Briana, I got along really well with them. Now that I'm back to being myself though, they avoid me because they're worried whatever karma or mojo Mason had that made him go back to his first wife will rub off on their husbands. Trust me, there's no love lost there. They're mostly uppity bitches that sit on their phones the whole time anyway. Every now and then someone will say, "Picture!" and they'll all pose while someone uses their front-facing camera to take a picture. My eyes hurt from rolling so much when I'm hanging out with these women.
I am never so happy when Mason's team wins the game 13 to 3 and we head out.
"So what's the plan for tonight?" He is asking me, "Dinner? Bed time? Please say bedtime...I'm kind of blue over here.."
I raise my eyebrow, "Baby, we had sex last night."
"Yeah, but we haven't today," he inches closer to me.
I can't help but giggle, and want to high-tail it home, but I have to catch him up on our situation.
"Yeah, well, our eagerness has a price," I tell him.
"What are you talking about?" he asks me.
"Well, honey, do you remember our parents cautioning us not to have sex when we were younger without protection?"
"Yeah," he starts, "they didn't want us to get any STD's or get someone knocked up...oh...wait...are you...?"
"Ding ding," I reply, "Surprise honey, we're having another baby."
Mason's jaw drops.
"I thought you were taking something..." he says.
I raise my eyebrows at him again, "When would I have had a chance to take anything? I've only been back in this body for a month."
He laughs to himself before telling his joke, "And already got it knocked up."
"Haha, you're so funny," I jab him in the ribs.
"Well, I guess that's just the way things go," he says.
Well, this is anti-climatic, "I guess so."
****
As my belly gets bigger, Mason gets more excited.
"I bet it's a boy," he says talking and listening to my stomach.
I laugh, "What makes you say that?"
"He's running around like crazy," he says, "you gonna play football like your dad?"
"You already have one son that plays football with you...how many do you need?" I ask jokingly.
"Never have too many," he simply replies.
Oh, I guess it's a man thing.
As soon as I get away from Mason, I decide I want to head to the bookstore and run into a familiar face.
"Never have too many," he simply replies.
Oh, I guess it's a man thing.
As soon as I get away from Mason, I decide I want to head to the bookstore and run into a familiar face.
It's my daughter Hallie! She has been living in town ever since my memory loss fiasco.
"Mom! Are you pregnant?" She asks.
"I know it's insane.." I start.
"101 babies? What's insane about that?" She jokes.
"Hey in there little bro or little sis," she talks to my belly, "have you thought of any names?"
I can't help but groan. Give me a break, I came up with 100, didn't I?
"No, my creativity for names is kind of dwindling," I tell her, "but I was thinking about using the grandparent's names for inspiration."
Hallie and I talk for a few more minutes before my body tells me to get home and put my feet up.
She gives me a big hug, "See you later Mama, love you."
"Love you too, baby."
When I get home, I follow a string of banging and curse words until I find my husband fighting with a shower that's spraying everywhere.
"Honey?" I ask, "You okay?"
"Yeah, this damn thing is stuck and...arrgghh!!!" He starts but doesn't finish for growling.
I fight the urge to make a joke. Mason rarely gets growly, but when he's under stress, it's more likely than not.
"Um...baby...do you want some help?" I ask cautiously after standing there for a few more minutes.
"No! I don't have to have my wife do this for me!" He barks.
Hmph.
"I was just going to suggest that maybe it will help if you used the right end of the wrench instead of banging on the shower head so much, but whatever..." Okay, I can't stop myself when he gets like this.
"Just...I've got this babe, don't worry about it." He tells me.
I decide the most merciful thing to do is to just leave. I have enough faith in him to get it fixed...eventually.
Sure enough, after laying on my bed and reading for awhile, he comes to bed...va-va-va-voom!
****THE NEXT MORNING****
I'm about ready to pop when I come downstairs for breakfast and I catch Mason reading at the table in the back yard.
After I eat my breakfast, I join him outside with a book of my own.
"Crap." I say.
He looks up, "What is it? Is it time?"
He looks up, "What is it? Is it time?"
"No," I say, "but I just realized something..."
"What?"
"What?"
"We have gotten as old and boring like my parents, sitting here reading..." I tell him.
He looks up and arches his eyebrow, "Well, we could be doing other things..."
I start contemplating his horn-ball suggestion (I think we have an addiction..seriously, someone call a program, schedule an intervention...), but then I am interrupted by my water breaking...
Followed by a strong contraction...
Mason shoots up..."I have everything set up in the bedroom....and I can set up a bath tub...
I have a different idea.
Mason shoots up..."I have everything set up in the bedroom....and I can set up a bath tub...
I have a different idea.
"FUCK THAT! TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL!" I shout.
"Oh...ok..." He looks surprised, but I could give two craps. I might have gotten to where I could pop these youngins out no problem, but I haven't had a baby in quite awhile...I forgot how much this hurts.
Mason grabs my bag and the car keys.
"Okay, get in my car..." Mason instructs.
"I'm driving, get in mine," I tell him and hop in the driver's seat.
I'm trying to concentrate on the road and the pain stabbing it's way into my abdomen while Mason wants to be Mr. Chatty...
"I don't understand why you have to drive," he is rambling.
"Because you drive like an old woman," I reply. No time for niceties, sorry baby.
Thankfully we get to the hospital after awhile and they get me into a room with a nice bed and an epidural....thank God!
Despite the fact that I turned into a crabby bitch, Mason was right there with the wash cloth, holding my hands, getting me ice chips, letting me smack him around. I couldn't ask for a better partner.
Finally after screaming from me and from Mason (I think I broke his hand...and kicked him in the groin once...don't ask), and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, we heard the beautiful sound of our baby's cry.
...well, that was the only time the cry will be beautiful, but who cares right now?
After getting the baby cleaned off, they put a busy, squirmy baby boy in my arms.
Mason and I decide to name him after his father, Taurrence James Pope, TJ for short.
We get home and get TJ settled in the unused nursery and marvel at the charmed life we lead.
I am never going to be bored with my life again.