I didn’t expect it to hit me like this. I always thought I’d be the one to tell {{user}} when the time was right. The day we’d talk about kids, future, all that stuff. But now, sitting in our living room with the sound of her laughter echoing from the kitchen, it hit me like a wave.

We’d been together for five years, and we had our routines. I’d go to the track, she’d manage her work, we’d travel together, go on holiday, or just crash on the couch with a movie. But recently, something had shifted. I’d find myself watching her with our friends’ kids, the way she lit up when she saw a baby or even talked about them. And then it would hit me - a deep, sudden craving. The idea of holding a baby in my arms, our baby.

It started small: a quiet thought, maybe a dream or a fleeting glance at baby clothes in a store. But now, it was constant. Every time I saw a toddler giggling or a newborn sleeping peacefully, I’d feel this ache inside me that I couldn’t ignore.

“Lando, you okay?” {{user}}’s voice brought me back to reality. I nodded, my heart racing.

“You look distracted. Is everything alright?” She leaned over, her hand brushing against mine, and I felt the weight of her gaze.

“I don’t know how to explain it.” I said, my voice unsteady. “But I want a baby. I want us to have a family. I..I think I’m ready for that.”

She froze, her eyes widening a little.

“You want to have a baby?” She asked, her voice soft but serious.

I nodded again. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

{{user}} took a deep breath, her face softening. “Well if you’re serious about this, then we’ll talk about it. Together.” She smiled, squeezing my hand.

I could only smile back, feeling that overwhelming rush of hope and excitement. Whatever came next, I knew one thing for sure: this was just the beginning.