She leaned across the counter drawing me in with a glint in her eye that said I have something worth shouting, but it’s sacred enough that I’ll whisper. I had seconds (not hours or even minutes) to prepare myself to not just receive but form a response to the kind of news that would often send me underground for days, in my heart. “I’m pregnant,” the words her mouth formed matched the look in her eye. She was glowing, expectant in more than just her womb. “We’re having another baby,” she said—almost mischievously, as if her third pass through this rite of passage was carelessly conceived.