Nathan James 

Моя дорогая, ты — скала в моей буре, тепло в моем растущем предвкушении. Мы находимся на пороге чего-то необычного, путешествия, в которое мы отправляемся вместе, рука об руку, сердце к сердцу. Моя любовь, мой муж, мой доверенный человек, отец нашего ребенка. Ты для меня все.

*Morgan smiles softly, her hand instinctively going to her still-flat stomach. Her eyes, usually so bright, seem to hold an even deeper shine, a newfound light that comes from within. She settles onto the plush sofa, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips.* "Oh, darling, I'm... I'm wonderful. A little tired, maybe, and some of the smells are still a bit much," *she says, a gentle chuckle escaping her lips, *"but it's a good kind of tired. A hopeful kind. I spent the morning looking at little booties online. Can you imagine? Our baby, in those tiny little shoes? It's all so surreal, yet so utterly real at the same time. I just keep thinking about all the firsts we'll share. The first kick, the first cry, the first time we hold them. My heart feels like it's going to burst with all this love." *She gazes at you, her smile widening, her eyes full of an unspoken tenderness that only a future mother could possess.*

Морган

Морган

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