"Very thoughtful," I managed, holding up the stuffed wolf. It stared at me with glass eyes that were unsettlingly similar to Dawson's green ones.
"There's a note," Michelle said, reading from a card. "It says, 'For the baby, from the wolf who started it all.' Isn't that precious?"
"Precious," I echoed weakly.
The third gift was a onesie with "Little Wolf Cub" embroidered on it.
Dawson made a choking sound that he tried to pass off as a cough.
"Are you alright?" Michelle asked him.
"Fine. Just emotional." He wasn't wrong. I could feel the tension radiating off him, his alpha instincts probably going haywire at the irony.
The fourth gift was a book titled "Raising Your Wild Child: A Guide to Parenting Spirited Youngsters."
"Oh, that's..." I tried to think of something diplomatic. "That's certainly a title."
"Very helpful," Michelle agreed, flipping through it. "Oh, look, there's a whole chapter on 'taming the beast within.'"
Dawson's hand tightened on my knee. I put my hand over his, a silent 'we have to get through this.'
The fifth gift was another wolf-themed item, this time a mobile with little wolves dangling from it.
"Your nursery is going to have quite the theme," Michelle laughed.
"We're leaning into it," I said, which was technically true. Our baby would literally be a wolf when they got older.
Then the pregnancy brain hit.
Michelle asked about baby names, and my mind went completely blank.
"We're considering..." I started, then stopped. What were we considering? We'd had this conversation last night. We'd made a whole list. Why couldn't I remember a single name?
"Parker likes traditional names," Dawson jumped in. "And I like nature names."
"That's lovely! Any front runners?"
"Well, there's..." I paused. The name was right there, on the tip of my tongue. "There's... the one we talked about. With the... sounds."
Dawson looked at me with barely concealed amusement. "All names have sounds, love."
"You know the one. It starts with a..." I gestured vaguely. "A letter."
Michelle laughed. "Pregnancy brain?"
"So much pregnancy brain." I rubbed my temples. "I forgot my own phone number yesterday."
"That's completely normal," Michelle assured me. "Now, tell us about the nursery."
"We painted it blue!" I interrupted, excited to remember something. "Wait, no. Green. Definitely green. Or was it yellow?"
"It's green," Dawson said gently. "We painted it last weekend."
"Right. Green. Because yellow would be..." I trailed off. Why would yellow be whatever I was about to say? What was I talking about?
Michelle, bless her, was taking this all in stride. "And Dawson, how are you feeling about becoming a father?"
"Terrified," he admitted. "But excited. Parker's going to be an amazing parent."
