This morning Nicole was feeling particularly gross. Because I have no way or knowing whether you are close enough to knock on wood after reading this, I will not suggest that this may be an indication that the relatively golden weeks of the second trimester are drawing to a close. I will stick to telling you, instead, that around 10 am Nicole announced that this day was not meeting her expectations, and she would like to start over.
A generically good husband, I'm sure, would have thought of something comforting or optimistic to say. But I am not a generically good husband, I'm Nicole's husband, and standard optimism will not always do. So I told her the scariest story I could think of instead.
"Speaking of starting the day over, can you imagine going through a Groundhog Day experience while pregnant?" I said.
Nicole groaned, and then laughed her dark, death-defying sort of laugh.
I love our marriage.
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