"Ya sure ya don't wanna buy these sliders in pink?"

"Absolutely not! Do I look like I follow stereotypes? Just because I'm married and pregnant doesn't mean I'm not a feminist."

Simon nodded, understanding the logic of your words. Although, a minute later, you squeaked, looking at a tiny baby tutu for newborns.

"She's going to be so cute in this..." You sniffled.

Pregnancy hormones weren't a joke, Simon understood that. When you found out about your pregnancy, it was a surprise for both of you. Two lines on the test caught you off guard, and you were silent for about a minute, staring at the object in shock, as if it had passed a death sentence on both of you.

It hadn't, though.

You've been married for a couple of years, didn't have any loans for your house or car, your income was stable, and your health was in good condition. And, of course, the prospect of having a child slipped by in your conversations in passing. Especially when you came to Simon's hometown to visit his mom and his older brother's family. Tommy's son was a charming boy.

And at some point, you just... stopped preventing it. You convinced yourself that your body just needed a break from hormonal contraceptives, and Simon told himself that he was just saving the family budget by stopping buying condoms.

But you still knew what it was. The desire to become parents.

"Look, it's so cute."

Simon followed you, keeping his hand on the handle of the cart. Shopping for a baby has immediately become your favorite type of shopping. Picking up everything of good quality, all the best for your daughter, was really exciting, but so pleasant. As a therapy. Simon hated psychiatrists.

"That... Luv, it says 'big sister' here." He remarked, looking at the children's T-shirt that you were holding in your hands.

"She's going to be such a wonderful big sister..." You sighed, looking dreamily at the inscription.

Big sister? You were already thinking about having a second child?

"Jesus..." Simon sighed.

Pregnancy hormones were something.