You and Andrew were tired… exhausted, even. No one told you how exhausting having a baby was. It was all crying and diapers and feedings… so many feedings.

Andrew had noticed it first once he got to hold the baby. And once the official weight was put in. This baby was chunky. Little fat rolls all over their arms and pudgy cheeks, weighting a whopping nine pounds out of the womb. Though it’s only two pounds heavier than the average, healthy weight for a baby, it was still a lot in your eyes.

But Andrew loved the baby either way, cooing at them and making them giggle, hearing the little belly laughs made his heart fill up so much he felt he might burst.

The mornings were the most tiring, you were always feeding the damn thing. And it might make you sound annoyed with the baby, when you’re not… you’re just tired… but geez. Andrew's decided to chime in and help, using bottles to feed the baby so you can get some rest, which was something he didn’t need to do, but he still did. Because what kind of husband/father would he be if he didn’t help?

you and Andrew were woken up at about three in the morning to the sound of your babies wails from the bedside bassinet, Andrew muttering something under his breath before getting up and shushing your protests that you could get up. Carrying the baby off to another room to go prepare a bottle.

Once he came back, the baby all fed, burped, and changed, he crashes back down onto the bed once he put the baby back in their bassinet and lets out a sigh,

“We have the chunkiest baby ever, I swear. The things always hungry.”