If the second month of pregnancy was defined by emotional breakthroughs, the second was defined by a very specific kind of madness: The Divyansh Singh Over-Preparation Protocol.
Avni sat on the edge of their bed, staring in disbelief at the mountain of cardboard boxes taking over their suite. Divyansh was currently wrestling with a high-tech, "all-terrain" stroller that looked more like a lunar rover than a baby carriage.
"Divyansh," Avni said, dodging a stray piece of bubble wrap. "I am barely six weeks pregnant. The baby is currently the size of a sweet pea. Why do we have a stroller that features GPS and 'independent suspension'?"
"It’s about safety, Avni!" Divyansh grunted, clicking a wheel into place with obsessive precision. "What if we go for a walk and the pavement is uneven? This thing is built for shock absorption. Only the best for our little girl."
"Or boy," Avni reminded him with a smirk.
"Girl," he insisted, pointing a screwdriver at her. "I’ve already looked up the top-rated schools. If we want her to be a doctor, we need to look at the primary curriculum in the suburbs."
Avni leaned back against the headboard, exhausted just from watching him. The morning sickness had transitioned into a permanent state of "afternoon fatigue," and the mere thought of school curriculums made her want to hibernate for a decade. "Can we focus on the fact that your brother is getting married in seven weeks? We have a Sangeet to plan, and I can barely look at a piece of spicy food without wanting to cry."
Divyansh dropped the screwdriver and was at her side in an instant, his face shifting from "Engineer Dad" to "Protective Husband."
"Right. The wedding," he murmured, his gaze falling to her stomach. "I’m just worried about you. Vivek knows, and Kajal knows, but the rest of the guests won't. I don't want you overexerting yourself for the ceremonies."
"I have Kajal on my side," Avni reminded him with a soft smile. "She’s been more worried about my health than her own bridal fitting."
The jewelry showroom was a palace of velvet and diamonds. Usually, this would be a dream for any bride-to-be, but Kajal spent half the time looking at necklaces and the other half watching Avni like a hawk.
As the attendant brought out a heavy gold set for Kajal to try on, the scent of the strong rose-water perfume used in the store began to fill the air. Avni felt her stomach do a slow, agonizing somersault. She tried to take a discreet, deep breath, but the nausea was winning.
Kajal noticed the slight paleness in Avni’s cheeks immediately. She didn't miss a beat.
"Oh, this light is terrible!" Kajal suddenly exclaimed, dramatically dropping the necklace back onto the velvet tray. "It’s giving me a massive migraine. Avni, would you mind coming to the lounge with me? I need a break from these sparkles before I pass out."
The jeweler looked confused, but Kajal was already ushering Avni toward the private seating area. Once they were out of earshot, Kajal pushed a bottle of cold ginger ale into Avni’s hand.
"Drink," Kajal whispered urgently. "I saw the way you turned green when they brought out the incense. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick today? I would have cancelled this."
"It’s your wedding jewelry, Kajal," Avni said, taking a grateful sip. "I didn't want to ruin your day."
"Don't be silly," Kajal chided, fanning Avni with a brochure. "My niece or nephew is way more important than a necklace. If you need to vomit, you do it in the designer washroom and I'll tell them it was me. I’m the bride; I can get away with being 'bridezilla' for a day."
Avni laughed, the tension leaving her shoulders. Having Kajal as an ally made the overwhelming transition of the first trimester feel manageable. "Divyansh is currently building a stroller that can probably fly. I think I’m the only sane one left in that house."
That evening, the family gathered for a casual dinner. Vivek was in high spirits, talking about the "Groomsmen Entry" he was planning.
"I was thinking we do a full choreographed dance to a medley of 90s hits," Vivek said, gesturing wildly with a fork. "Divyansh, you’re the lead. I need you to do that one flip you used to do in college."
Divyansh, who was currently reading a book titled What to Expect: The Toddler Years (despite the baby being months away), looked up in horror. "A flip? Absolutely not. I have... back issues."
Vivek squinted at him. "Back issues? Since when? You were at the gym yesterday."
"It’s a very specific, sudden onset of 'Dad-Back,'" Divyansh improvised, shooting a panicked look at Avni. "And besides, Avni shouldn't be dancing either. The... air quality in the banquet hall might be poor."
Vivek stared at his brother. "The air quality? Divyansh, you’re acting like we’re planning a wedding in a coal mine. We all know the truth."
Kajal kicked Vivek under the table, though she was struggling to hide her grin. "Vivek, leave them alone. If Divyansh wants to worry about air quality and strollers that look like tanks, let him. It’s better than him ignoring the fact that he’s going to be responsible for a tiny human."
Vinayak roared with laughter, looking at his eldest son. "He’s right, Vivek. When your mother was pregnant with you, I tried to child-proof the entire garden. I even tried to put padding on the rose bushes."
"See!" Divyansh said, feeling vindicated. "It’s a paternal instinct."
"It’s a paternal panic," Avni corrected, leaning her head on Divyansh’s shoulder.
As the family joked and planned for the double joy of a wedding and a baby, the Singh house felt fuller than ever. The secret was out among those who mattered most, and as Avni looked at Kajal—who winked at her while secretly swapping Avni's spicy plate for a blander one—she knew she wasn't just gaining a sister-in-law. She was gaining a lifelong partner in the beautiful, messy journey of family.
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