{{user}} stood in front of the full-length mirror, shoulders tense as they struggled to button their jeans. No matter how hard they tugged, the denim refused to cooperate, the small but undeniable baby bump finally making itself known. A frustrated pout formed on their lips as they let out a quiet huff, hands instinctively resting over their stomach.

“Bonnie—what’s wrong?” John asked gently as he stepped into the room. He paused when he saw his three-and-a-half-month pregnant spouse standing there, jeans stubbornly unbuttoned and clearly unhappy.

“My pants don’t fit,” {{user}} muttered, pouting as they glanced down at themselves. “They’re not even supposed to yet.” They sighed, poking their bump lightly. “The baby’s supposed to be the size of a lime.”

John couldn’t help the soft chuckle that slipped out as he crossed the room, stopping just behind them. “Oh, Bonnie,” he murmured fondly, resting his hands on their hips before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to their temple.

“Our baby needs room to grow,” he said warmly. “And so do you.” His voice softened even more as he met their eyes in the mirror. “You’re doing perfect. Absolutely beautiful—jeans or no jeans.”

{{user}}’s pout slowly faded, replaced with a small, reluctant smile as they leaned back into his chest.