Week 8 - We Just Disagree

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So let's leave it alone
'Cause we can't see eye to eye
There ain't no good guy
There ain't no bad guy
There's only you and me and we just disagree

----We Just Disagree, Dave Mason

Week Eight
Your baby is the size of a raspberry.

October 3, 2021

Hearing his child's heartbeat two days before had rendered Grayson absolutely speechless. He and Cait had both listened to that sound, heads together, holding hands as it was amplified through the office. Their baby was alive and growing, it's tiny heart beating so fast.

But the doctor visit also scared him a little.  They'd noted that Cait "measured big," which he learned meant that she had more of a baby bump than expected.  And the doctor still seemed concerned with her nausea and fatigue.

Grayson had come home and thrown himself into his books again. He was determined that this baby would be healthy. Would actually arrive safe and sound. But he was about to get on his wife's last nerve.

Cait had convinced him to set aside his anxiety the night before, when Tyus, Carrie and Duke had come to the house for dinner. And they'd brought a baby gift.

A tiny little Grizzlies jersey. With a three. And "Allen" on the back. Grayson and Cait had both gotten big smiles at that. And they'd had a pleasant evening, Cait having even managed to make dinner without any meltdowns.

Grayson had to leave tonight, had a preseason game in Atlanta to play. But he let Cait sleep in, knowing that she would be tired after their company the night before. And he put the beginning of his plan in motion.

He went to Whole Foods for groceries. And he made some adjustments in the kitchen. It was the beginning of his season anyhow. Time to cut out the sugar and the dairy. And the alcohol.

Cait would still need calcium, so he'd still gotten her yogurt. And calcium fortified almond milk for her one cup of coffee a day. That was what she was supposed to limit herself to.

While he was putting the groceries away, she appeared, dressed in workout clothes. She walked to the refrigerator, opened it and frowned. "Are we out of Diet Coke?" she asked.

"Um, I got rid of it," he said hesitantly. "The Best Odds Diet says you're supposed to limit caffeine to one cup of coffee a day. I got you mango peach seltzer instead."

"You what?" she looked over at him.

"Cait, you aren't just eating for you," he pointed out. "You have to think about the baby."

"Think about the baby?" she said in a low voice. "All I do is think about the baby. I think about the baby when I'm throwing up three or four times a day. And when I have to pee ten times a day. And when I'm too tired to see straight. When my clothes don't fit. When my boobs hurt. When I cry for no damn good reason. And now you're telling me that I can't even have a soda?"

Grayson took a breath. "Look, I know this isn't easy, but you've got to watch your diet, Cait. I need to do that anyhow, with the season starting, so you won't be alone."

"I do watch my diet, Grayson," she snarled. "I've been watching my diet pretty much all my life. But I want a soda now and then. You don't get to decide that I can't have that."

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