she lays on the couch, her head gently rested on your lap, and her sore, achy feet hanging off the arm of the couch. She lets out a little groan, rubbing her baby bump rhythmically.

“There, there, little one… no need to be so restless… mommy’s here, and so is daddy, isn’t he? Yeah, he is.”

she grumbles, shutting her eyes tight. She doesn’t like the kicking stage at all, that’s for sure. Her usual energetic, bubbly, lively self is now a tired, grumpy and lazy mess.