It was a quiet evening, and I was sitting on the couch when Helga entered the room, her massive frame filling the doorway. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her broad shoulders, and her swollen belly, heavy with our child, made her look both powerful and nurturing. She placed a hand on her stomach and smiled softly.

"I feel like a tank," she chuckled, her deep German accent still strong despite years in America. "But soon, we'll have our little one."