She was greeted with breakfast in bed again. This time it was waffles. Dave smiled pleasantly as she ate ravenously. He said she was eating for two now. She smiled a syrupy smile and offered him a bite.

"You'll need all you can get for our little one," he declined. He cleared away the tray once she had finished, giving her a gentle kiss before leaving for work. She turned expectantly to the bowl full of vitamins and the full glass of water.

"Why," she wondered, staring at the mountain of pills as the car pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road, "Did I marry a gynecologist?"

Tina stayed at home all day because Dave made her. He was so anxious, heaving it on her while she waited for him to return. The pregnancy had changed him. Wasn't she the one with the changing hormones?

So she sat and read and watched soap operas on the Spanish channel because the American ones were all the same and if she couldn't understand the dialog she could make it up in her head. It kept her amused as she knitted a knotted sweater for the baby that rolled and snored and demanded food all the time all the while trying to kick its way out of her.

She remembered the first time she had felt it kick. It had been a Sunday, somewhere in April, and Dave had just woken up. She had been sitting near the window, sniffing the screen because she liked the smell. It smelled almost like the rain, or how the earth did right after it had rained. Dave had stretched and the bed had creaked as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. She had turned her eyes to him, watching as he sleepily stumbled out of the room. It kicked her then, and Dave had return wide awake and excited when she had called. She savored the warm fuzzy feeling before it was swamped with another of intense hunger. That was when it was their baby; now it was just his. The baby was so alive within her; why didn't it just come out so she could leave the house. The idleness and waiting ate away at her. Walks weren't unpleasant, they were burdensome carrying all this extra weight on her feet so used to being stuffed into Power Pumps just a shade too small. She was not used to this life without the pandemonium of disorganized files, yelling at the new employees, arguing with ridiculously demanding customers. This life was boring.

Dave came home that night, finding his wife staring longingly out of the window and thinking about the heavenly chaos found at the office.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine."

"No pain."

"Nope."

"No bleeding?"

"None."

"That's good."

"I suppose."

"Shall I make dinner?" he asked, his voice coated with the pride of his newfound hobby.

"Can I help?"

"You should rest. For the baby." She slouched back into the couch, icing her face with comfort over her displeasure. He touched her cheek for a moment as if he was touching an extreme fragile piece of porcelain before he headed to the kitchen, a jovial bounce in his step. Sulking, she waited for her latest amusement: the sound of cooking. She didn't wait long for the merry clamor of pots and pans to announce his happiness.

Tina stood up and went to the doorway to watch Dave conduct his orchestra with a ladle in one hand and The Joy of Cooking in the other. She soaked in his contentment and leaned with her back against the doorframe, watching him over her shoulder as she profiled her maternity. He had rolled up his sleeves and wore her pink, frilly apron reading "Our kitchen serves all four food groups: frozen, fast, microwave, and fried." When he turned to her, she could see a dash of cheese sauce streaked across his forehead.

"Shouldn't you-" She brushed her finger over the streak of sauce.

"Is there something I can help with?"

"Why aren't you-"

"Is there something I can help with?" He frowned at her tone. "Is there something I can help with? Please?" His frown caved in to a smile.

"Would you like to toss the salad?"

Dave was already asleep by the time she had finished her bubble bath. The mattress tilted under her. Dave must have had a good day at the office. He had been almost like he had been before she got pregnant. She had been almost as free as she had been before she got pregnant. He was carefree, not commenting on the low nutritional value of her after-dinner snack nor making her submit to one of his horrible back-rubs. She had been feeling contractions for the last hour. She smiled at her little secret as she snaked an arm around her belly to cup his hip.

"It's time, Dave." He sprang out of bed, rushing to the suitcase he had packed 6 weeks ago for her. She calmly got out of bed to find her coat.

"C'mon Tina. We should get to the hospital."

He shifted impatiently in driver's seat as he waited for her to lock the door. His driving was nearly reckless as he struggled against one red light after another.

"There's no need to hurry." The flush on his face was pitiful. The pain the consumed her body was not strong enough to make her sweat, yet he was perspiring for her. She was a patient girl, and after waiting so long for this moment, she was going to be sure she remembered it. She smoothed his hair after he honked the horn at a disobedient traffic light.

The hospital was a swirl of white and humming neon lights. Dave's worried face hovered over her as she pushed out the iceberg between them.

"It's going to be ok," she told him, refusing to call for the drugs she so desperately wanted. She fell asleep when the pain had stopped and the commotion had calmed. When she awoke, she was met by deathly silence and the form of Dave hunched over the chair. He wasn't asleep.

"The baby..." he croaked from beneath his arms and gestured towards one of the nursery cradles that had been wheeled into the room. She lifted herself up and peered into the cradle. The baby was tinged blue, with an ugly red ring around her neck. Somehow she wasn't surprised it was dead. Her emotions had been so poisonous they must have killed it.

"I don't know where I went wrong." She watched him shake and reached out to take his hand. Nothing was wrong.