I found out on a Tuesday.
Late afternoon. Declan was in meetings. The kids were at my mother's for the afternoon. I was home alone, catching up on foundation work, when a wave of nausea hit me out of nowhere.
I barely made it to the bathroom.
Strange, I thought. I hadn't eaten anything unusual. Maybe a stomach bug.
But the nausea kept coming. Every afternoon, like clockwork. And I was tired. So tired. Falling asleep at 8 PM, struggling to wake up in the morning.
Evelyn noticed first.
"You look different," she said during one of our weekly dinners.
"Different how?"
"I don't know. Softer. Glowier." She squinted at me. "You're not pregnant, are you?"
I laughed. "No. We're not I mean, we haven't been"
But I stopped.
Because when had my last period been?
---
The test was impulse.
A drugstore run while Declan was working late. Something to ease my mind. To prove Evelyn wrong.
Two lines.
I stared at them for a long time. Then I sat on the bathroom floor and cried.
Happy tears. Terrified tears. All of them.
---
I waited until dinner.
Cooked his favorite—well, attempted to. Rosa helped, because I was too distracted to manage even simple things. By the time he came home, the table was set, candles were lit, and I was a nervous wreck.
"What's all this?" He kissed my cheek. "It's not our anniversary."
"No. It's something else."
I waited until we'd eaten. Until we were sitting close, wine in his glass, water in mine.
"I have news."
"Good news?"
"Terrifying news. Wonderful news." I took his hand. "I'm pregnant."
He went still.
Completely, utterly still.
"Declan?"
"You're…" His voice cracked. "We're…."
"Having a baby. Yes."
He stared at me for another long moment. Then he pulled me into his arms and held me so tight I could barely breathe.
"We're having a baby," he whispered. "We're having a baby."
"You're happy?"
"I'm terrified. I'm thrilled. I'm everything." He pulled back, cupped my face. "I'm going to be a father again."
"The best father."
"How do you know?"
"Because you already are." I kissed him. "And because you have me. We'll figure it out together."
"Together." He kissed me again. "Always together."
---
We told the kids the next morning.
Lily was seven. Old enough to understand. Marcus was five, still young enough to be confused but excited anyway.
"We have news," I said at breakfast. "A special surprise."
Lily's eyes went wide. "A puppy?"
"Not a puppy."
"A pony?"
"Definitely not a pony."
"Then what?"
I looked at Declan. He nodded, smiling.
"You're going to be a big sister again."
Lily stared at me. "Again?"
"There's a baby in Mama's belly," Declan explained. "A new baby. Coming soon."
Lily processed this for a moment. Then: "Can I name it?"
"We'll see."
"Can it be a girl? I want a sister."
"We don't know yet."
"Can it share my room?"
"Eventually. When it's older."
She nodded seriously. "Okay. I accept this news."
Marcus, who'd been listening carefully, finally spoke. "Baby?"
"Yes, baby."
"In Mama's belly?"
"Yes."
He reached over and patted my stomach gently. "Hi, baby."
I cried. Obviously.
---
My mother arrived within hours.
She'd heard the news via Evelyn who'd heard it via Lily, who'd called her immediately after breakfast. My mother was thrilled. Overjoyed. Already knitting.
"A girl," she announced. "It's a girl. I know these things."
"Mom, we don't know yet."
"It's a girl." She waved her knitting needles. "I'm making pink."
Declan laughed. "Let her make pink. It's good luck."
---
Margaret's reaction was more subdued but no less warm.
"A baby," she said. "Again."
"Again."
She smiled, for real, not her professional one. "He's going to be insufferable."
"Probably."
"Good. He deserves it."
---
The months that followed were a blur.
Doctor's appointments. Nursery preparations. Endless discussions about names. Lily's constant questions. Marcus's gentle pats on my belly.
Declan was perfect. Attentive. Caring. He read pregnancy books, attended every appointment, rubbed my feet without being asked.
"You're spoiling me," I told him one night.
"You deserve it."
"You're going to be exhausted when the baby comes."
"Probably." He kissed my forehead. "Worth it."
---
We found out the sex at twenty weeks.
A girl. Just like my mother predicted.
Declan cried. I cried. The ultrasound technician pretended not to notice.
"A daughter," he whispered. "Another daughter."
"Happy?"
"Ridiculously."
---
Lily was thrilled.
"A sister! I knew it! I'm going to teach her everything!"
Marcus was slightly less thrilled. "Another girl?"
"Another sister."
He considered this. "Will she play trucks?"
"Probably. Eventually."
"Okay." He nodded. "That's acceptable."
---
The nursery came together slowly.
Pink, despite my protests. My mother's knitting everywhere. A mural on the wall that Evelyn painted stars and moons and a sleeping baby.
Declan assembled the crib himself. Again. Reading instructions like they were legal documents.
"You know we could hire someone," I said.
"I know." He didn't look up. "But I want to. For her."
My heart swelled.
"Declan."
He looked up. "Yeah?"
"I love you."
"I love you too." He grinned. "Now hand me the Allen wrench."