This past week someone at Den’s work lost their wife to cancer. I don’t know the pain of losing a spouse – and hope I never will – but I grieve for him, for his emptiness, for his loss. I wish I could do something to help, somehow, but that’s the shit thing about loss: there’s absolutely nothing that can make it “better.” Words really do feel far too trite and contrived for such a horrible loss.

::

We went out for dinner this evening, for a nice hibachi meal. If you didn’t know, hibachi is done with several parties seated at the same table around a large grill that they cook the food on. We go early enough that normally it’s just us at a table by ourselves, but today another couple was seated at our table – and she was obviously, roundly pregnant.

My first reaction, to be honest, was to look away and think to myself, “Why me, why my table?” Before of course I realized that I am pregnant too. But that flinch is still there.

When asked if we all want saki the husband leaned over to pat his wife’s belly, “Oh no, not her, she’s pregnant!”

It occurred to me a few times to say, “Me too!” but I kept it to myself. It just didn’t feel right to share. Or necessary, for that matter.

“You’re not so obvious,” Den said, referring to my small, just-rounding-out belly. But I thought about it in the greater context of behavior and attitude. No I’m not – and I probably never will be again.

::

I find myself in transition.

Four nights ago, in the middle of the night as I layed in bed with my laptop, I felt gentle, minute little pokes in my lower belly. I held my breath and waited, and it came again. The next night, watching TV, I again felt little pokes. I laughed out loud as I told Den. I felt giddy. I honestly did not expect to feel anything at all for weeks more yet, due to my anterior placenta. I haven’t felt anything since, but I’m guessing that the baby has to be in just the right position for me to feel anything yet.

I am greedy still. I want to feel more movement, and I eagerly await getting a bigger, rounder, fuller belly. I feel it coming and am now getting little tastes of what it was like. It makes me so excited to be moving in that direction. In a way it feels like I’ve just been ghost-pregnant, still waiting for the reality of it to come.

“What if it snows?” I asked Den earlier this week as he prepared for his 2-week work trip. “It won’t snow!” he replied, with his typical confidence. It had been nearly 60 degrees out for several days. I had gone without a coat once or twice.

He left saturday morning.

Saturday evening it snowed.

::

Last night was a christmas party, a fancy formal event. I realized I actually like these things. I like getting dressed up fancy like I never would normally. I like good food (sadly this one fell far short of the “good,” but it was fair). And mostly, I like just being around people that I know, listening and joining in on conversation. This is not something I ever would have expected of myself, 10 years ago. And to be fair, I still really need alone time to re-center myself, I am far from a social butterfly. But once in a while it is nice to just be in the company of others for a little while, to hear the stories and laughter and friendly teasing. And now I feel like I have something positive to contribute.

However, it is extremely obvious to me that I much prefer being in the company of those who know my full story. Over the last few nights I’ve been seated with people I don’t really know and will probably not run into again until next year’s party. Plus my bump is to the point where it is semi-obvious to people – they glance at my belly, then to the water I’m drinking, then back to my belly… but they aren’t quite confident enough to bring it up yet. So we ended up mentioning it a lot, this bump of mine and the baby within.

Again we got the inevitable, “Is this your first?” For the occasion we just said, “Yes.” Like I said, I’m not likely to run into them again, I’ll only have to converse with them for one night. But that one night can be quite trying. I got to hear the women tell me all about how pregnancy will go later on. I already know. I had to be careful that I didn’t accidentally slip and say, “Compared to last time…” Then I’d have to explain. I didn’t feel like explaining. So I just smiled and nodded.

But by far the hardest thing for me was the couples telling me how joyous it is to have your first child, how wonderful it is to raise a child, and just how much we will love it. They didn’t know – and I didn’t let it show – but those words cut at my grief. I really had to struggle to stay present with this baby and the future we will hopefully have, because my mind kept wandering back to my memories of Devin and the joy and hope we had for him. How HE should have been our first baby in the house, our first lessons on diapers and crying and wants-only-Mommy. What we lost. So I smiled and told them I’m sure it will be wonderful with this baby and hoped someone else would pick up another topic in the lull.

This is why I tell people this is my second, if I will be seeing them again. The telling is harder, and conversation is far more awkward, but at least people are mindful. I can only handle conversations about “our first” for one night.

::

Many times during the night people would say, “How’s the baby doing??” And I honestly had NO idea what to say. Still alive, I think? Having a great time, though I really can’t feel much yet? Your guess is as good as mine? I opened and closed my mouth a few times before just saying, “Fine, good. Yep, good.” It just seems like such an odd question for someone who is only three and a half months pregnant. And it left me wondering how the baby REALLY was.

When I got home at 11:30 I layed in bed with my laptop for a little while. Right away I started feeling movement. This time it wasn’t a little poke or two, this was like a full-out rumble in my belly like Devin used to do. Except… it feels so muffled, like it’s underwater and all I’m feeling are ripples. Like when your stomach growls and rumbles – but this was down low, and it just didn’t stop. It felt so alien, a little creature tickling me from the inside.

But the true pisser of having a previous loss is that I layed there and thought, But what if the baby’s dead and I’m feeling something else entirely? The movements are so vague still. One minute I’m feeling reassured that at least the baby is alive, then the next I’m wishing I could hear the heartbeat just to make SURE that’s true.

A few people have asked me how I met my husband. Since he’s gone and I’m feeling a little nostalgic, I figured it would be as good a time as any to tell the story.

My hubby and I met online, though not exactly in the way you’d expect. We are both avid readers, especially of the fantasy genre, and we both ended up as a member on a forum for this one particular book series. It was actually a roleplaying site as well as a fan site, where everyone had a character name (or sometimes many different ones), and we would all paint our character(s) into the fantasy world that we loved. I love to write, as you can tell, but I’m not a novelist – I like short stories, and the ability to write with other people was fun and rewarding. So on this site Den and I both played – but not together. I did not know him, nor his character – the site was big enough to have many different sub-forums.

It happened that one of the women that I got to know well online lived only a few short hours from where I lived. I was just outside of Vancouver, BC, and she was outside of Seattle. I was only 17 at the time, but she and some other friends drove up to meet me, and I drove down to stay with her a couple of times. She was older, had a family, and kind of took me under her wing in a way. I was struggling with my depression at that point and it was good for me to get out of the house and be around people who knew me and had similar interests.

She ended up hosting a large get-together of people from the roleplaying site. It started out with just a person or two planning to visit her, and it ended up being a big meet-and-greet. The first year it happened was a big success, so the next year another one was planned. I never would have been able to go to a big meeting had it been any further away, but since I could easily drive there and I already knew the hostess, I was able to go.

Now I’ve never been a social person. At all. In fact I had terrible anxiety about meeting new people, not to mention my depression was as of yet unchecked and unmedicated and I had just been through a spectacularly drawn-out and dramatic breakup with my first boyfriend. The first year I was so overwhelmed and I didn’t know half of the people there, I ended up just sitting mute most of the time. So the second year I decided I was going to find out who all was coming, and then introduce myself to them online – within my comfort zone – and get to know them a little bit before they arrived.

And that is how I first “met” Denis. I didn’t know him at all, but he was a good friend of my friend, the hostess, and he was going to fly out all the way from Massachusetts for this second meetup. I ended up finding him on IM and introducing myself, just as I did with everyone else who was coming. I remember pretty much nothing from those few conversations. They were completely unremarkable.

But I do remember him arriving at my friend’s house. Her husband had gone to pick him up from the airport, other people had already arrived so there was a living room full of people chit-chatting. I was just sitting curled up by myself on a couch. I remember him walking in the room, putting down his things, giving hugs to my friend. There was something about him. And I don’t mean in an “oh my GOSH!” kind of way, but rather that soft but comforting feeling that this is someone who would be a great friend. There was something so warm about him. The rest of that weekend we all got to know each other and I gravitated to his side. We laughed a lot. He just made me feel… safe.

After that weekend we kept in touch on IM. We got to know each other and became very good friends. My first instinct was right: he was indeed a very good friend. I found out he was a very good writer, and I created a new character in the story online to interact with his – we had a lot of fun with that one. I also found out what a wonderful person he was. He became a moderator on the site because he was someone everyone looked up to, who could solve problems and calm the drama (and there was always plenty of drama). He was an amazing source of support for me and was the encouragement I needed to see a doctor and get on some anti-depressants. I turned to him often for support, and he was always there for me.

Somewhere in there something more grew, but there was a catch: he was 16 years older than me. By that time I was 19, he was 35. Every time I would mention this connection and possibly-more, he would say he’s too old for me and encourage me to date someone in college. But finally I convinced him that I wanted HIM, not someone else. I at least wanted to see him again, to see if the connection we had online was there in person.

February 14, 2002 was when I first flew out to Massachusetts to see him. It was awkward and crazy, but that connection really truly was there.

For the next three years I would live with my parents during college semesters and then live with him for my 4 months off during the summer, taking turns visiting on my Christmas break. Everyone thought we were crazy, not just because of the age difference, but with the traveling and living apart for 4 months at a time. Yes, my parents did freak out a little when I told them that I was flying to Massachusetts to see a man I knew online – but they trusted me enough to let me go, and make my own mistakes if that’s what it was going to be. But when he flew out that first Christmas in 2002 they got to know him and they adored him, too. So many people, when they saw us together in person, would say, “Oh, it makes sense now.”

We stayed apart until I finished my degree – transferring to a school in the US was a possibility, but so overwhelmingly expensive that it was not an option. The summer before I graduated he proposed and we started the Visa application process, which is considerably lengthy. As soon as I finished my last class I packed my belongings in two suitcases, the rest left in boxes and drawers at my parents’, and moved. We got married 2 months later.

It has been over 7 1/2 years now since I flew out that February, and married for 4. We still don’t really understand how we found each other or how we recognized what we did – or how we managed to get through all the obstacles between us ever getting together permanently. But we did – and we are not the only couple from that roleplay site that ended up happily married. I think the best thing about building a relationship online is that you get to know that person’s heart first – their hopes and dreams, their fears, their beliefs. Den and I could and did talk for many, many hours on IM or phone, and we still never run out of things to talk about.

My husband’s main character’s name on that site we met on was named Alin. Though not many people know it, we named our son Devin Alin after his daddy, as an acknowledgment of how our story began.

My husband, if you didn’t know, is in the military – Air National Guard, to be exact. He works on the local base full-time, in full camo uniform and everything. I just rarely mention it because, well, it just doesn’t seem to matter. We’re not a “military family” – he doesn’t get shipped out, we don’t move around. Once upon a time he was active duty and was living elsewhere and was sent overseas, but he’s been in the service for over 20 years now. Now it’s like he just has a full time job that happens to be on the base.

Unfortunately there are times when he has to go somewhere for some reason, and this was one of those times. He had to go to a training class for 2 weeks, but he got to pick which of the times of year he went. We thought long and hard about it. In April I was pregnant, then lost it and we had to plan for more IVF cycles. When I got pregnant with this little one we decided the best time for him to go would be my second trimester – hopefully that would be past the risky, scary miscarriage point, but not into the scary third trimester when we just really don’t want him going more than two steps from my side, just in case.

Yesterday as I fed the pets, took the dogs out, prevented the dog from harassing the cats, cleaned up the house and made myself dinner I thought about just how lucky we are that the timing is what it is. Thank goodness the nausea has greatly abated and that I have some energy back. I thought about even a month ago and I just have no idea how I would have done all this – I could barely function at work, I slept 12 hours a day, and I left almost all of the house chores to Den. I guess I didn’t really stop and think about how much more he has been doing until I had to do it all myself. As it is, as good as I feel physically, my temper was running short and I still got a headache from yelling at the dogs (who apparently think they don’t need to listen to mommy now that daddy’s gone).

Unfortunately – but expectedly – it is my husband’s dog, the shepherd, that is having the hardest time. He’s sucking up to me in a big way (when not harassing cats), but he is absolutely pathetic right now. Big, scary, confident 95lb german shepherd… howling and whimpering and looking out the window every time a car goes by. He is currently asleep next to me on the bed, which is apparently the only time he’s able to relax. But even when I’m petting him and telling him he’s a good boy, he’s still whimpering softly. He won’t be happy until daddy comes home. When I tell people Zeeke is my husband’s dog, I’m not kidding. Zoe, my little girl, loves me to bits but is just as happy with Den (truthfully I’m not entirely certain how much of the world really sinks in to her pretty little head). But Zeeke? Zeeke needs daddy. Period.

So the cats are just concerned that they get fed on time, Zeeke is being a pathetic crybaby, I had a tiny meltdown yesterday because I just felt overwhelmed and lonely, and Zoe is just confused as to why everyone is acting so strange. Another 12 days to get through. Thankfully I’ll be working most of them – it makes the time go faster.

16 weeks pregnant today with a good appointment to confirm that all is going well!

I had to wait a long time, even though I got there early, as everyone was trying to track down different pieces of my records – this was my first appointment with the Midwives after transferring. My labs were in the computer system, my few papers from earlier appointments were finally found, but all my ultrasounds remain elsewhere – apparently they were not sent over with the rest.

My weight on their scale read 135lbs. Very nice, I’m happy with that. Assume about a 5lb gain so far – possibly less. The nurse didn’t say my blood pressure outloud, so I’m assuming it was same as usual.

So after waiting for a while for records and things to be found, finally the Midwife came in. I only sort of recognized her from 2 years ago, I only saw her once. But she asked if I’d been in before, I looked familiar to her. She was warm and friendly and apologised for having to go through the million and one questions but they needed it for their records. So very quickly I said, No, no, no, no, depression and anxiety, celexa, no, no, no, one laparscopic salpingectomy due to an ectopic, one exploratory laparscopy, and 5 IVF retrievals. That is pretty much my history in a nutshell. At the point she brought up pregnancy history she asked specifically, “What number pregnancy is this?” (Three.) “Any living children?” (No.) “You had a loss at, what, 36 weeks, right?” OH THANK YOU. Someone who actually reads my records before talking to me! Now I don’t know if it’s just what she would have done anyways, or if it was because the stillbirth was at this practice so they had the big fat record from his pregnancy there, but whatever the case, I am thankful. I immediately exhaled the breath I’d been holding, waiting for the inevitable question.

Once the history was done she looked through my labs. As of the beginning of this pregnancy when blood was drawn I was not anemic, possibly due to me already being on iron supplements (I was anemic with Devin). There was a lot of “immune to…” and “negative”s. We both got a brief chuckle out of my lab history (all of which is in their computer system) because, as I pointed out to her, after my loss they tested me for everything under the sun and then some. She also managed to find my NT scan results, which show very low risk, 1:10,000 risk for Downs. She also mentioned that I can do the rest of the AFP testing for neural tube defects but that I have until 22 weeks to do that and a lot of women just wait until after their anatomy scan to see if anything needs further testing. Considering if I got the test done now I wouldn’t even get results back until after the scan, I just shrugged and said I’d wait.

Now about this pregnancy and how I will be monitored and tested, she doesn’t yet know what they are going to want to do. I told her that Dr. M. was the one who had gone over Devin’s autopsy results with us, he’s one of the head maternal-fetal doctors. So what the Midwives are going to do is ask Dr. M. for his specific recommendations for me this pregnancy and will follow whatever he says. While I am a little unsettled by not knowing the plan for another month when I go back in, I am really thrilled that they will be consulting directly with Dr. M. about my pregnancy! He happens to be a Dr that Den knows through work, and is someone that he really looks up to and has a huge amount of respect for. He was also fabulous to us both after Devin’s death, he spent a long time going over everything with us, and even called me directly when they found the cause of death. I am very sure that Den is going to be very relieved that he’ll be involved.

Finally I hopped up on the table and she brought out the doppler. Baby is hiding down low today, but the heartbeat was loud and strong in the 150’s. She let me hear it for a few minutes. ;)

All in all I absolutely loved the Midwife. Her whole demeanor put me at ease immediately (well, as much as I can be at any baby appointment). She felt relaxed and at ease, not at all in a rush though I know they are busy. She spent half an hour with me. I really like how she acknowledged the loss in a respectful manner, without being overly touchy-feely about it. I know everyone deals with it differently, but that’s very much how I am about my loss: straightforward, honest, but I don’t get weepy or emotional about it when I talk about him (most of the time). I felt comfortable with her, like I could trust her.

So I booked my next appointment with her, in 4 weeks. Yes that’s a long time, but since I have my ultrasound in between I’m okay with that. If Dr. M. does recommend a monthly ultrasound I’m hoping to schedule that in between regular appointments so I have something every 2 weeks, until we get into third tri and high monitoring.

All in all I’m feeling really good right now – I won’t be 100% sure about switching to the Midwives until I find out what monitoring they will be doing, but as of right now I’m happy.

A week late. Bah. 16 weeks is coming up next.

How far along? 15 Weeks

Total weight gain/loss: 133.8 (+0.6 week) (+3.6 total)

Maternity clothes? No change – Over-belly pants, bigger bra, longer non-maternity sweaters (shorter ones are getting a bit too short).

Stretch marks? Nope.

Sleep: Pretty good, other than the one night I was throwing up all night.

Best moment this week: Feeling the tiniest little baby movement!!

Movement: Very very light little pokes from the inside, but only when I’m laying in bed on my back – and it only happened twice this week.

Food cravings/aversions: Sandwiches. Been eating cereal out of convenience, but half the time they don’t sit well. Not craving too much right now, honestly.

Belly Button in or out? Same as it has been – in.

What I miss: Not a whole lot right now! This has been a good week.

What I am looking forward to: Feeling those movements more and more!

Weekly Wisdom:

Milestones: First movement!

Symptoms:
– Nausea still decreasing, which is fabulous.
– Boobs fully and achy and BIG. Wow.
– Bloat belly still comes back when I eat, but that lower belly is sticking out regardless.
– Foot cramps still come now and again.

How far along? 16 Weeks

Total weight gain/loss: 134.0 (+0.2 week) (+3.8 total)

Maternity clothes? Over-belly pants, bigger bra, longer non-maternity sweaters and maternity sweaters. I’m pulling out a couple more of my maternity shirts. Also pulled out the wireless bra I wore when pregnant with Devin – that wire bugs me some days (but not all).

Stretch marks? Nope.

Sleep: Good, other than the foot/leg cramps!

Best moment this week: Baby’s moving more!!

Movement: Felt baby move some more this week – more than little tiny pokes this time, felt like a lot of moving and rolling and kicking, but very muffled, very light.

Food cravings/aversions: Still craving sweets (keeping that in check), but nothing in particular. Which is frustrating. I’m hungry, but don’t know what I want?

Belly Button in or out? Same as it has been – in.

What I miss: My energy and not getting out of breath! I got up to dance one song at a party and my thighs felt like they were on fire and it took me 10 minutes to catch my breath. Yikes.

What I am looking forward to: Christmas!!

Weekly Wisdom: If you think something’s probably not the best idea… you’ll probably suffer for it later, lol.

Milestones: More obvious movements.

Symptoms:
– Nausea still going down! Not always gagging in the mornings, even. Being able to eat more and more without feeling sick at all.
– Big boobs.
– Bloat belly still comes back when I eat, but that lower belly is sticking out regardless.
– Foot and calf cramps really bad this weekend after wearing heels to a couple of Christmas parties. Some really bad charlie horses. Ow.
– I’m getting more stuffed up and runny nose – but I don’t know if it’s a pregnancy thing or if I’m getting a cold or if it’s just a weather thing. (It doesn’t feel like I’m getting sick, though.) Also been sneezing a lot at work, not sure what’s up with that, maybe someone wore a perfume that bothered me. It’s not getting worse, so I’m assuming this is a preg thing, not a sick thing.

I forgot to mention in my 16 week review that I’ve been getting headaches pretty consistently in the evenings. It’s not every day, but it’s a good 50% of them. If it’s bad enough (or if I’m at work) I’ll take a tylenol, but sometimes I just try to sleep it off – not always successfully. I know someone else mentioned pregnancy headaches in the second trimester, the timing certainly coincides. But I’ve also been noticing a lot more stress being held in my shoulders and upper back again, so I’m wondering if that isn’t contributing. I’m going to have to go for another massage to work out the knots again. My right shoulder was really hurting today.

Also, in other fun-ness, something is off in my lower back. It’s a shooting kind of pain that goes down my left buttcheek, then over my left hip and down my leg. I would say almost certainly something pinched, a job for my chiropractor to fix. This is something I do remember from Devin’s pregnancy – same side, too. It’s not all the time, but once in a while I’ll just get a jolt down that buttcheek and yelp.

I’m starting to feel things loosening up – which I suspect is what led to the back issue. I’m hearing a lot of pops when I get out of a vehicle or get out of bed. Things just feel… loose. Not really loose like they’re going to get, but I can definitely feel things relaxing (except, of course, my damn shoulders).

The above notwithstanding, I feel wonderful. I feel things starting to shift now, into that phase of pregnancy that I loved more than anything: feeling the baby move, nausea going away, carrying a round belly. I cannot even describe the joy that seeps into me when I close my eyes. This baby is such a gift – no more or less than Devin was, but a gift regardless.

They say you don’t really appreciate something while it’s right there in front of you. I’m getting a good taste of that right now. I knew it was going to be a bit of juggling to manage the household by myself with my husband gone, but I figured I’d have some nice, quiet “me” time, that I’d be miss independent for a couple of weeks and everything would be fine.

The reality, on the other hand, is that I am far more codependent with my husband than I really understood. Also, that bad luck seems to spring up when you are least prepared to deal with it.

First issue is dealing with the dog. His dog. Daddy-is-gone-oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-die dog. This gives me a giant headache and does not make the cats happy. But this was an expected frustration, and one I was set to deal with.

And then came the snowstorm. 6″ of snow, rain on top, and freezing temperatures. But it’s okay, BIL came to snowblow the driveway and walkway and clear off my porch, I put down icemelt, and I drove the SUV. All is well. I was very pleased with how well I’d handled that…

… until I got up the next morning and realized with a clusterf**k the backyard now was. Our fence is still unfinished, so twice a day I have to leash up the dogs to walk them through our backyard to the woods. It’s an inconvenience in the best of times. It’s a straight-out frustration when there’s snow to slog through. And when that snow freezes on top and starts to get nice and slick it quickly becomes dangerous. Add missing snowboots and two dogs urgently needing to reach the woods, tugging on their leashes and getting wrapped around me. In the dark. While I try to juggle a flashlight. And not fall down.

Add to that the “incident” of the dog eating two chocolate chip cookies wrapped in plastic wrap. Swallowed whole. (Because I was going to get it from him.) Which means he has a very upset stomach, diarrhea, and needs to go outside urgently. In the icy snow. Plus I need to watch the poops to make sure he’s not blocked.

AND THAT IS NOT THE END OF IT.

Plus the same dog broke two nails on the icy snow, bleeding and freaking me out. Plus the battery on the SUV died while I was at work today, so I had to get jumped by a coworker in 22 degree weather. Plus a string of the house christmas lights are out and today I came home to discover that a portion of it on the other side of the house fell down, giving my house a glorious white-trash christmas look.

And it isn’t even to the end of the first week yet.

All of that is very frustrating and certainly very bad timing, but it shouldn’t normally be meltdown material. But right now I can’t just turn to my husband for help – he’s not here to put the lights back up, or take the truck in to the shop, or take the dogs out in the icy snow. I’m left to manage alone, I can’t even just call him if I want to talk – he calls me once a day in the evenings, but the rest of the time is unavailable. He has no email or computer access. I don’t know if we’ve ever been apart and been able to communicate this little, and to be honest it’s upsetting me more than a little bit. I have moments at work where I’m just doing something simple like figuring out credit card payments and want to call him to ask if I should take the money from one account or the other. Or when my car battery dies and I might need a ride. Or when I’m ticked off about something and just want to call and rant to him for a little bit about stupid people. I’m realizing how many times a day I reach out to him instinctively, whether it’s for help or comfort or just to connect schedules. Without that I feel like I’m floating around without an anchor.

Today has been a far better day than yesterday, and I have successfully staved off a repeat of yesterday’s meltdown. I woke up and realized that my frustrations weren’t nearly so overwhelming as they seemed last night. In truth I think I knew that last night, too, but those damn pregnancy hormones really had me going.

Work was crazy-busy, as was my bank (I decided not to even attempt it after seeing cars lined up trying to get in to the parking lot), and Burger King. Seriously people, Burger King? Are you all really that desperate for a quick bite to eat before running off to a hair appointment? No, that was just me. Not sure what the rest of them were doing, but they delayed me. But I did make it to get my hairs cut cutely once again and left me feeling slightly perkier.

Friends are a fabulous thing. I was supposed to go over to a friend’s house tonight for some dinner, but after hearing about my meltdown yesterday she decided to come to me – along with her husband, who re-affixed the poor, sad lights to my house. We had pizza, played a board game, and got the cats wound up. It was so comfortable and relaxing and distracting.

Now I’m in bed feeling the baby wiggle (I think – it’s still so frustratingly vague) and watching You’ve Got Mail. When the husband is away, the wife will watch romantic comedies.