That Baby (33 page)

“Does that bother you? That she would automatically assume the worst?”

“Yeah, it does. She used to trust me. Now . . . I’m really hoping it was just pregnancy hormones combined with the bad dreams she’d been having. That she’ll get back to being herself. But, honestly, the things she said have stuck with me. So why don’t you want her to know what you did?”

“Because I’m not over it and I don’t want her to think I am. I want you to be happy, Danny, and I knew if you both came home to a finished home, it was one less thing for her to be stressed about and would make your life easier.”

“Are you and Lori doing okay now?” Phillip asks Danny.

“The birth experience definitely bonded us. But since then, we haven’t really slept much. We’re tired and stressed. Nursing isn’t really going well. Devaney cries a lot. Lori is trying to keep her on a schedule. But I don’t know. It’s like we finally get her to sleep and then Lori wakes her up so she can nurse again.”

“She’s waking the baby up? Isn’t there some rule about letting a sleeping baby lie?”

“Yeah, but she read that babies need routine.”

“And we know Lori likes routine,” Phillip says. “Maybe it helps her feel in control.”

“How are you doing on a schedule?” I ask Danny.
 

“I can barely keep myself on a schedule. You really think I could do it for someone else?”

“Well, she’s your child too,” Phillip says. “You have a say in how she’s raised. If you want to try something different, it’s okay for you to suggest it.”

Danny laughs. “Uh, no. It’s not. That’d be like committing mutiny. Thanks, but I think I’d rather go down with the ship.”

We turn our attention toward the TV when we hear Nick’s name being called in the draft.
 

“Dang,” Danny says. “I was hoping we’d get him.”

“His parents are probably thrilled though,” I say. “St. Louis is the closest NFL team to where they live.”

Angel stops throwing the stick around and plops down to nibble on it. I guess, she’s decided it’s pretty good to chew on.

I take a moment to text Nick.

Me:
 
KickyNicky!! Congrats!!!! You were the first kicker chosen in the draft!!! Go YOU!! And GO ST. LOUIS!! I bet your parents are so thrilled. Heart you!!!!!!
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dear Baby Mac,

I haven’t written in here for like 6 weeks, but work and life have been kinda crazy. I won’t bore you with the work details but I will say that I’ve been putting in some really long hours.
 

It’s interesting, though, how you’re growing inside me as the building I designed is taking shape. It’s almost metaphorical, sorta. Honestly, I’m not sure that’s even the right word. I just mean your growth is sort of paralleling the building’s growth.
 

Speaking of growth! We had another ultrasound a couple weeks ago. You’ve grown a lot since we first saw you!

You are now weighing in at about a pound and a half and are measuring nine inches long. You’re developing senses, like touch, sight, hearing, and taste.
 

Your daddy still talks to you every night before we go to sleep. It’s so sweet. And it’s exciting knowing that you can hear him. That you will recognize our voices after you are born. He also lays his hand on my stomach because he wants to feel you kick.
 

So far, he hasn’t. But you do kick when you hear his voice. When he comes into the room sometimes you’ll give me a swift kick. I wonder if you’re dancing around in there or just excited, like Angel is when she runs around the couch when Daddy comes
 
home.
 

Speaking of Angel. I told Mr. Diamond that he should sue the breeder for false advertisement. She might look like an angel when she gives you her big puppy dog eyes but she is not. This past weekend, your daddy and I were planting flowers in the backyard. We did one side and then moved on to the other. Angel had been just aimlessly running around yipping at ducks and geese and chasing the daredevil squirrels. She came running over to me and gave me a muddy kiss. I turned around to pet her and saw that she had dug up all the flowers we had just planted. She ran over to the dug up mess, grabbed an uprooted flower, then bounded over with it and dropped it at your dad’s feet. She was very proud of herself. So, after giving her a bath and drying her off, I opened the basement door. She went running inside, jumped on her blankie, and looked up at me with adorable, sleepy eyes. She had her head down and was asleep before I ever went back outside.
 

I was outside for a total of five minutes, finishing planting the flat of flowers we were working on while your dad cussed up a storm while replanting the dug up ones. When I came in the house to get him a beer, I was greeted with fluff and feathers.
 

And not just any cheap fluff.
 

We’re talking down.

Angel had apparently not stayed asleep on the blanket, instead she decided to chew up/destroy my pillows. And the dog has good taste. She didn’t mess with my cheap Target throw pillows. No, she chose the ones that came with the couch. Pillows that will cost about $200 a piece to replace. (But we won’t tell Daddy that!)

Needless to say, Angel is not ready to be alone in the house. She’s also nearly chewed up the desk leg in your dad’s assistant’s office. Angel comes to work with us pretty much all the time now, and Daddy’s assistant has a jar of mini dog treats on her desk.
 

And Angel’s smart. She’s learning to go from office to office—like she’s trick or treating or something—whenever she gets a whiff of food.
 

She’s become a junk food junkie.
 

I keep telling people not to feed her, but they can’t resist her adorable begging.

She also ate four wadded up pieces of paper from my trash can the other day. Thankfully, paper is biodegradable and the vet assured us it wouldn’t harm her.

We’ve also been busy with Joey and Chelsea’s wedding. Daddy was the best man and held a bachelor party in Omaha the week before the wedding. Chelsea opted not to do a traditional bachelorette party, since she’s pregnant. So I did a lingerie party for her instead. Everyone got her something pretty to wear (for before and after the baby) and we had a dessert bar and served champagne. It was a lot of fun.
 

Danny didn’t go to Joey’s bachelor party but he did come to the wedding. He couldn’t wait to show Devaney off to his friends, but Lori had a fit about the germs, the lack of schedule, being tired, and all that. So he went by himself. I think it was a good break for him. (He slept for fourteen hours straight!)
 

I’m worried about Lori, though. She won’t take a break. Baby Devaney is so cute, but she seems to cry a lot before she can settle down and go to sleep. It’s like she’s stressed. (Just so you know, I’m not good with routines, so I hope that you can function well in a sort of go-with-the-flow environment.)

Grandma and Grandpa stayed with Angel all week, and after the wedding your daddy and I checked into a beautiful hotel on the beach and spent four days doing nothing.
 

Our own little babymoon.

Oh, also, I look and feel great. Like I don’t know what magical mix of hormones and vitamins is happening here, but my skin is clear and glowing, my hair is thick and shiny, and my nails are growing longer.
 

So thank you for that.
 

Oh, also, even though I have seen the ultrasounds and know you are a baby, I keep having crazy dreams where I give birth to an alien/dolphin/puppy/hamster/unicorn (that was kinda cool)/pizza/and Channing Tatum wearing a baby bonnet. The only problem is that no matter what kind of baby comes out, the dream ends with red. Lots and lots of red.
 

I’m hoping it just means that will be your favorite color.
 

Go Huskers, right?
 

P.S. Lori still hasn’t apologized but she is starting to act like we’re okay. And even though I miss us being okay, I’m not really okay with it. Things just aren’t the same. I miss my friend. I miss talking every day. She uses being busy with the baby as an excuse, but it’s like she’s still mad at me.
 

But shouldn’t it be the other way around?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dear Baby Mac,

It’s the last week of our second trimester!
 

Let’s talk about you first. Your little lungs are developing now so that you can take your first breath and sometimes you get hiccups and I can feel them! You weigh more than two pounds and are about fifteen inches long.
 

As for me, I am still feeling pretty awesome. Still jogging. And seem to have more energy. My stomach is more than a bump and, for some reason, people seem to think it’s okay to touch it. (P.S. It’s not.)

And, hello, I didn’t lose brain cells as my stomach grew. I can still actually have a conversation about something other than being pregnant.
 

I have also heard enough birthing horror stories to last me for the rest of my life, thank you very much.

Now on to the funner stuff! This week is the Fourth of July. I’m super excited for it. We’re having a party. (Surprise. Surprise.) Our neighborhood has some cool events like a kid’s parade in the morning. An afternoon picnic in the park. And at dusk, what I’m most looking forward to—the fireworks over the lake. Because we live on the water, we’ll be able to see them from our backyard, so we invited everyone we know.
 

I have a bit of heartburn. I’m hungry all the time. My stomach itches and my belly button has popped out.
 

My only real problem is that you seem to wake up about the time I’m ready to go to sleep.
 

It’s like all day when I’m moving around, you’re crashed out. Then when I lie in bed, you wake up and decide to party.
 

And I’m pretty sure you are dancing.
 

Or possibly having your friends over.
 

July 2nd
 

A pretty big target.

Phillip’s parents are in town this week for the Fourth of July festivities, although, Mr. Mac isn’t going to be here tonight. He left for Dallas with one of the guys on their Board of Directors this afternoon after our board meeting. When we walk in our house, Phillip and I are greeted with a wonderful smell.
 

“Is that fried chicken?” I ask Phillip’s mom as I pet Angel and tell her not to jump on me.

“Chicken fried chicken, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, gravy, and homemade biscuits,” she says.

I’m about to kiss the woman until I see a different kind of chicken.
 

Not just a chicken, mind you, lots of chickens. A whole coop worth, staring down at me from the top of my cabinets.

“Uh, is it theme night?” I ask hopefully.

She looks up. “I thought your cabinets looked a little bare, so I decorated them. What do you think?”