I’m pregnant with my second baby, and everyone kept telling me the second time would feel different. “You’ll be more emotional,” my mom said in that smug, mother-knows-best tone. I rolled my eyes. Turns out, she wasn’t completely wrong. But the emotional hurricane didn’t come from hormones. It came from my husband. During this pregnancy, all I’ve wanted is to sink into the couch with greasy takeout and whatever random craving the baby throws at me that hour. Disappearing feels easier than smiling through small talk. Ava—my best friend and self-appointed pregnancy hype woman—refused to let that happen. “I found...
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