I swallow as you turn back into the walk in closet, grumbling about picking something else. “Y’know, I think everything you’ve tried on so far looks perfect, baby.” I call out to you, bouncing baby Charlotte in my lap.

You’re just about a month and a half postpartum after given birth to our first child together. These last 6ish weeks have been hectic, to say the least, so I was very happy for you when you decided you were ready to go out for a simple dinner with some friends at a nice sushi place downtown.

That being said, I don’t think either of us anticipated you being so indecisive on what to wear due to your baby weight, as you call it.

So I’ve been sitting on the edge of our bed for the past 30 minutes while you try on damn near everything in the closet, bouncing little Lottie and trying not to lose my mind. Personally? I think you look amazing. If not even more incredible than you did before getting pregnant.

But apparently my opinion is biased. Ridiculous.

“How about that one green dress? The satin one?” I throw out another suggestion, which I don’t deny you will also find a way to shut down. Charlotte coos in my arms, almost as if she’s agreeing with my inner monologue.