Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
In this instance, I’m glad she doesn’t open her eyes to look at me. It gives me a moment to stare at her, to take her all in. To remind myself how fucking lucky I am that she chose me to be her partner. Everyone’s a fool if they think I chose her. She was destined to be mine from the moment I met her. I was the idiot who waited too long to realize it.
While she sits there, crossed legs and absorbing the energy in the room, I picture her with a growing belly. With my child growing inside of her, knowing my wife is nurturing and caring for the little human that we so desperately want. I don’t even care how many children we have. Hell, if she wants a football team, I’ll happily do everything I can to give her one. If we’re graced with one, then that’ll be enough, too. I just want to see her blossom as a mother. To have the moments she sees in magazines and on TV or with our friends. The longing in her eyes when she sees an expectant mother rubbing her belly. Hell, I want that too. I want to feel my son or daughter kick. I want to read bedtime stories to her stomach and tell my little guy or gal how fucking awesome their mother is. Aside from this, I’m at a loss on how to get my wife pregnant. To give her the one thing she wants.
I inhale deeply to stop an impending wave of tears. Being strong for her is my job and one I take very seriously. The alarm on my phone chimes and I pull it out of my pocket to shut it off. “We gotta go,” I tell her.
Peyton finally opens her baby blues. They sparkle as she looks at me. Another smile, a wider one this time, spreads across her face. “You can’t wear those sweatpants to the clinic.”
I look down at them, looking for any stains or holes. “Why not?”
She laughs, stands, and stretches. Doing so highlights her figure. She used to be tiny, sometimes too thin, and she read that eating a balanced diet of whole grains, healthy fats, and proteins would help her body get ready for pregnancy. Honestly, I like not seeing her hip bones or her ribs showing.
Peyton turns, bends over, and looks at me through the space between her legs. The sight of her plump ass in those tight ass pants does something to me. I feel the stirring, the beginning throb of my growing erection. I clear my throat and change my stance.
She smirks and giggles. “That’s why,” she says. Peyton rights herself and comes toward me. “No one in the office needs to see what my husband’s packing.” To emphasize, she cups my dick and gives it a squeeze.
“Not fair.” I don’t bother to move. “You’re touching me and yet as of today I’ll be banished from being inside of you.”
Peyton shivers. “It’s for the greater good.”
I refuse to disagree with her. “Mhm.” Learning toward her, I kiss her. “We need to go.”
“You need to change.”
“Humor me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine.”
When we walk into the clinic, people look. It’s a natural reaction. The door opens, you look to see who’s coming through. Thankfully, today isn’t as packed as it was when we first came. There are fewer men, which I sort of understand. They’re probably working or aren’t needed for whatever their wife is having done today. One woman is crying in the corner, and I try not to stare, but end up looking in her direction more than once, wondering why.
We aren’t sitting but a few minutes when Peyton’s name is called. With my hand on the small of her back, I follow one step behind. The nurse, who didn’t introduce herself, takes us into a procedure room. She tells Peyton to have a seat in the chair. I sit next to her and clasp my hands in my lap, and then unclasp them and reach for Peyton’s. Even though we are here to learn how to administer her shots, I’m nervous. There’s no way Peyton can give herself shots, even if she tells the nurse otherwise. I know her. She hates needles, and the sight sometimes results in her hyperventilating.
“You’re going to administer two shots a day for one week, and then you’ll come in everyday for your last week of shots,” the nurse says. “Over the course of your daily in-person monitoring visits, we’ll do bloodwork, pelvic ultrasounds, and we’ll track your cycle. This is the time where we’ll make any necessary adjustments to your medication. If everything is where we want things to be, we’ll do the trigger shot. You’ll go home and the anesthesiologist will call you, walk you through what to expect at your appointment. You’ll come in, and we’ll retrieve your eggs.”