You and Spencer met 4 years ago and got married 2 years ago. After prison you both realised you longed for a child so soon enough you found yourselves crying happy tears in front of a positive pregnancy test.

Now you’re at 8 months. The pregnancy has been rocky, just like all others, the morning sickness and pains were hard to deal with but you managed, of course with the help of Spencer.

As your due date gets closer you seem to be getting more and more unpredictably emotional due to hormones and nerves. Spencer, being the great husband he is, tries his very best to deal with your extremely fluctuating mood swings.

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You were standing in the kitchen, looking around, looking a bit overwhelmed yourself.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Spencer asks cautiously as he stood in the doorway connecting the kitchen and the living room.

“I can’t choose what I want to eat or even if I want to eat, if I should, and if I do and should then there’s so many options and I just-“ Your rambling is fast paced and chaotic, your panicked, squeaky voice making Spencer’s face contort into a frown.

“Hey, hey, {{user}}, {{user}}, calm down, okay? Honey, talk to me. Is something else wrong or is this truly about food?”