Chapter 10
Ten
EASTON
Easton,
I think I want to keep the gender a surprise.
I’ve always liked the idea of waiting, of not knowing until the exact moment the baby is born.
There’s something beautiful in the anticipation.
It’s one of the only things about this that feels like it can still be ours alone, no one else’s decision, no one else’s opinion.
The truth is, I always wanted kids. I just didn’t think I should be a mom.
Especially with my eating disorder … the therapist is worried about it, and she keeps reminding me I have to eat and accept the weight I am going to gain.
I grew up telling myself I’d probably be too broken, too distracted, too …
me. And yet, when I saw that heartbeat on the screen, I made myself a vow.
I promised I would never be like my mother.
I will never put work or anyone else’s expectations before our child.
No matter what happens, they will know they come first. Always.
Kennedy has already started talking about baby shopping.
She sends me pictures of strollers and cribs and onesies at all hours of the day.
She calls herself Aunt Kennedy like it’s already a fact written in stone.
But I’m not ready for any of that yet. I can’t walk into a store and buy clothes for a baby I’m still terrified of losing.
It feels too soon to be so excited. Maybe in a few weeks, maybe when I let myself breathe a little easier, but right now … it’s just too much.
There’s something else we need to talk about.
Your parents. I haven’t told them yet. Your mom called me yesterday and invited me over for dinner.
She’s worried about me, probably about us, but I declined because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this secret with her sitting right in front of me.
Part of me feels like it’s not my place to tell her, that you should be the one to decide when and how they know.
But another part of me worries we can’t wait too long.
They deserve to know they’re going to be grandparents, even if things are complicated between us right now. What do you want me to do?
And as for the phone calls … I can’t. Not yet.
The thought of hearing your voice breaks me in a way I can’t handle right now.
I’m barely holding myself together as it is, and if I hear you say my name, I know I’ll lose whatever strength I’ve found.
So please, don’t take my silence as rejection. It’s survival right now.
Do you know if there’s a new date set yet?
For court, or for anything that might move this forward?
Rick hasn’t said anything to me, and the waiting is eating me alive.
I need to know what’s next, even if it’s weeks away.
I need to know how much longer we aren’t going to know the fate of our future.
I’ve been thinking about some names in case it’s a girl.
Nicola — I’ve always loved how strong it sounds, but still soft.
McKenzie — a little more playful, a little lighter.
Emery — simple, modern, and it feels gentle, like it belongs to someone kind.
Clara — old-fashioned, but beautiful. It makes me think of someone graceful, with a quiet strength.
Hadley — I don’t know why, but it makes me smile even if it is a bit close to my name. Maybe because it sounds like happiness.
Isla — delicate but strong, like water. I can almost imagine her whispering it to new friends on her first day of school.
Sage — earthy, calm, steady. A name that feels like peace.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to pick the “right one,” but writing them out makes it feel a little more real. Like I’m already speaking her into existence, giving her a place in the world even before she arrives.
Have you thought of any names?
With love,
Your Little Bird