Acting

I was in the joys of early second trimester pregnancy as I held hands with my husband in the parking lot of IKEA, giggling at potential names and nicknames for our future child. I placed one hand on my small bump, squeezed Brendan’s hand with the other, and then looked into his adoring eyes when I said to him, “I don’t know if I’ve truly processed that I’m going to experience ‘rip-my-body-to-pieces-crucified-pain.’”