Daphne Collins, a 21-year-old aspiring artist who is attempting to make her way in the world of the bustling New York City. Though when a new nannying job gets offered to her, she takes it, hopeful that it'll give her the extra money and nudge to ma...
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Chapter Song - Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield
Sleeping at almost five months pregnant is - how should I say it -fucking awful. I can't sleep on my back because of lack of blood flow to baby. I can't be on my stomach, because I'll squash my baby; so being on my side is the only way.
Though I'm hot and sweaty, and continuously tossing and turning because every sleeping position seems to be uncomfortable.
"Babe?" Danny's gruff voice cuts through my tossing and turning. "Can't get to sleep?" he asks.
I sit up with frustration. "Obviously," I grumble, leaning against the headboard. Leaning over, I flick on the lamp, the clock reading 12:56a.m. Great.
Danny sits up, wiping his eyes and running a hand through his messy bed hair. "Did you need anything?" he asks softly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
I sigh. "No, I just want to sleep," I complain, the agitation quickly morphing into a lump in my throat. I sniffle at the sudden emotion, thats truly a reoccurring feeling whenever I get too overwhelmed.
"Oh, baby," Danny pulls me into his arms. "Did you want to watch something? Maybe it'll lull you to sleep?" he asks.
I nod, snuggling into his chest. He flicks on the T.V, scrolling through the late night shows until he stops on a re-run of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
"This good?" he ask, and I just nod.
"I'm sorry," I mutter, feeling guilty for waking him up again in the middle of the night.
He laughs lightly. "For what, being pregnant?" he questions rhetorically. "That's more my fault, not yours," he jokes. "And I don't care if you wake me up every two seconds, pregnant or not, I'll stay up all night if it means you'll get a good nights sleep," he reassures me, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Good, because I'm tired," I respond, eliciting a light laugh from him.
The simplicity of watching the show in fact works and lulls me to sleep, my brain only remembering Buffy and a white haired dude arguing.
By the morning I feel more energised, with a new wave of excitement running through me. We get to find out the sex of our baby today, since I just hit the 20-week mark and our appointment was scheduled a little later since life with two kids is busy.
Getting stuck in our usual routine, I sit on the couch with sore feet as the girls eat breakfast in the kitchen.
"Do you find out if we get a brother or sister today?" Hallie asks.
I nod with a small smile. "We do, do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?" I ask her.
She cuddles up next to me, her small hand running gently over my round belly. "I think it's a boy, Bridie does too," she answers.
