April 8th, 2008: I know he loves me.

We're standing in the aisle for electric razors in Target when I take a moment to tell him that he looks like he fell down a mineshaft. He has a full beard. He huffs at me and when I try to kiss him, he pulls away. I whine quietly until he comes back and immediately nuzzle up into his neck.

He smiles. I can feel it with my head against his cheek. "You love me," he whispers, very quietly and tenderly against my hair.

"I love you," I confirm. And he wraps his hand tighter around my waist and pulls me close so he can feel the baby between us, rubbing her gently with his free hand and my aching hips with the other.

I wake up early in the morning some time later when he rolls over to slide his arm around me from behind. He lays his forearm across my ribs and lays his palm on my belly. Drowsy and sleep drunk, I press my back against his chest to alleviate some of the pressure on my hips and legs. As I shift, the baby starts to kick his arm, trying to get it off of her favorite toys: my ribs. I hear him murmur something unintelligible and cup my lower stomach in his hand, as if holding her up. It takes the pressure off of my veins and circulation returns to my legs and pelvis for a blissful moment. With his other hand, he plays with my hair and caresses my neck.

It is a rare, sleepy moment. On any other morning, I would have my arms wrapped around him from behind, holding him close and kissing over his skin. I'm the dominant one in a lot of ways. I hold him more. I kiss and caress him more. I massage his whole body as both a method of relieving the pain he's in and a covert way of molesting his sleek, lean body. I notice how feminine he can be: his facial structure, for instance, is very delicate. He has high, pretty cheekbones and long black eyelashes that brush my skin whenever he nuzzles into me. His lips are large and pouty and, though muscular, his body has a distinct curviness to it that I envy. But he is still masculine, still a man. Even if he possesses the finest hips and ass I've ever seen.

As he starts to wake a few hours later, I roll over to face him and he instinctively nuzzles up against my breasts. I feel his eyes flick open a little as though just noticing that my breasts have become far larger and fuller. It's the one thing I can be proud of in this pregnancy concerning my body. It doesn't get mentioned hardly enough.

"Oh," he mutters. "A pillow." And then he buries his face in my skin and dozes off again as I massage his scalp.

I know he loves me.

Look at that precious little fist. I'm in love with those hands.

Pouty face. She was getting real fussy by the end.

I really, really love this one.

Thumb in her mouth.

Sucking on her lower lip just like I do. Well, daddy does it too.

She has a cute little smile.

So sleepy in there!

Okay, who's she looking like now? Still daddy? Me? Or both?