"Where would gonewild be without your thoughtful mentorship?" she says with a little laugh. "I didn't think I'd have to worry about parental controls on our wifi this early."
But she takes his phone, delighted at this trove of research. It's another little clue to how invested he is; he's not just falling down rabbit holes but making maps of them, saving the best and most intriguing leads, though she's willing to bet there are some absolutely awful old wives' tales mixed in that they'll eventually have a companionable argument about.
She leaves DAD STUFF untouched and dives into NURSERY, scrolling through the images that have caught his eye. They're all polished, staged, perfect and beautiful, and-- already touched as she is-- she feels her breath catch a little at the thought of working side by side, crafting a space to welcome their child. She might not be feeling many effects yet but now and then the overwhelming emotion creeps up on her; she backs out and switches over to FACTS, which seems a little less likely to make her cry.
This is less fraught if only because it's more familiar; half of it the same infographics that pop up when she's online, the expectant mother e-mail lists that have hardly changed in the years since she had William. But she still feels it, that swell of affection too intense to contain, and her hand wraps around his arm, squeezing maybe too hard.
"Have you..." She's not really ready for this one, but what are they doing if not jumping in head-first? "Thought at all about names?"
no subject
But she takes his phone, delighted at this trove of research. It's another little clue to how invested he is; he's not just falling down rabbit holes but making maps of them, saving the best and most intriguing leads, though she's willing to bet there are some absolutely awful old wives' tales mixed in that they'll eventually have a companionable argument about.
She leaves DAD STUFF untouched and dives into NURSERY, scrolling through the images that have caught his eye. They're all polished, staged, perfect and beautiful, and-- already touched as she is-- she feels her breath catch a little at the thought of working side by side, crafting a space to welcome their child. She might not be feeling many effects yet but now and then the overwhelming emotion creeps up on her; she backs out and switches over to FACTS, which seems a little less likely to make her cry.
This is less fraught if only because it's more familiar; half of it the same infographics that pop up when she's online, the expectant mother e-mail lists that have hardly changed in the years since she had William. But she still feels it, that swell of affection too intense to contain, and her hand wraps around his arm, squeezing maybe too hard.
"Have you..." She's not really ready for this one, but what are they doing if not jumping in head-first? "Thought at all about names?"