Babies are so much work. They’re exhausting and time-consuming and demanding and expensive. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I choke out, the tears falling despite my best efforts. “I don’t know how to take care of three kids on my own.”

“William and Jessica are old enough to help,” Nic says. “They’ll be a big help, especially William.”

I nod and reach for my napkin to wipe my eyes and nose. “Is it fair to the kids, though? Is it fair to bring more chaos into their lives?”

“Is it fair to the baby to just get rid of it?” Nic flashes.

“No.” And I want the baby. That’s the crazy thing. I’m sick and scared and overwhelmed, but I’m also excited about having a little one again. All the itty-bitty newborn clothes. Setting up the crib. Buying a new stroller. Decorating a new nursery.

I look up at them. “This baby won’t ever have as much, not financially.”

Kristine reaches out and strokes my hair. “But the baby will have love.” She smiles at me through tears of her own. “You’re a great mom, Jack. You’ll be wonderful with the baby.”

“What if I’m not?”

“You will be. And we’ll help you,” Kristine says. Anne and Nic nod.

“We can take turns helping out,” Anne adds. “There’s no reason we can’t all pitch in. I’ve missed having a baby around. I’d love to have one afternoon each week where I take the baby. I’ll be Auntie Anne and my kids will be your baby’s cousins and the baby will have tons of family.”

I cover my face with my hands and just cry. They’re all touching me. Patting my back, rubbing my knee, squeezing my arm. They’re letting me know I’m not alone and they won’t leave me behind. They might have been tough on me earlier, but they’re also women, and they know how hard life is, how hard it can be.

Finally I get some control. I blow my nose and wipe my eyes dry. “You guys are amazing.”

“We love you, Jack,” Anne says simply.

And I nod, because I know they do.

“So what’s the baby’s due date?” Kris asks as we eventually resume eating.

“December thirty-first.” I smile weakly. “Can you believe it?”

“You never go full term,” Nic says. “Just watch. You’ll end up having a Christmas baby.”

“That’s exactly what Dr. Montgomery said.” I’m laughing and crying at the same time. This is crazy.

This is life.

In the next week, boxes of maternity clothes show up on my doorstep, as does a dog-eared copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting, along with a brand-new pregnancy diary so I can keep track of the new baby’s growth.