Wide Awake |N.P|

Last month we found out that Bean is a girl, and honestly? I have run with that. Not literally though—because, like, obviously, I'm six months pregnant now and running is so not happening—but emotionally? Full sprint. I've been completely obsessed. I've spent basically every free second searching online and raiding stores for the cutest baby girl clothes I could find. Seriously, you would think I'm opening a boutique or something with the amount of stuff I've ordered. Little pink dresses with tiny bows, onesies that say things like "Daddy's Girl" and "Future Star," frilly socks, ruffled bloomers—you name it, I probably bought it.

Trying to figure out her name has been a whole other mission. Noah and I had already agreed, even before we knew she was a girl, that whatever name we picked, her last name would be hyphenated. So, our little Bean will officially be a Berry-Puckerman. Which I think sounds perfect and important and definitely like she's destined for greatness, obviously. Plus, it's the perfect way to honor both of our families. Noah actually grinned like an idiot when we wrote it down for the first time. He kept saying it out loud and practicing introducing her like, "Hi, this is my daughter, Berry-Puckerman," and honestly? It made my heart melt every single time.

Daddy even pulled my old crib out of the attic the other day—the same crib I slept in when I was a baby. It's this beautiful white wood crib with these delicate little floral carvings, and it actually still looks amazing even after all these years. Daddy and Dad have been working on cleaning it up and sanding it down a little to make sure it's perfect for Bean. Noah insisted on being the one to put it together when it's ready. He was so serious about it too, like he was preparing for some kind of epic challenge. He even borrowed Dad's toolkit and has it sitting in the corner of my room like he's ready to go to battle or something.

I'm not gonna lie, seeing him so excited and protective over everything just makes me fall for him even more. Like, it's not just about us anymore. It's about her too. And the fact that he's all in? That he's choosing to be here for both of us every single day? It's everything.

Anyway, Sectionals is in like, three days, and honestly? I'm low-key freaking out. I've been trying so hard to make sure I have everything in order—like, making sure my solo parts are perfect, running through choreography a thousand times in my room even though I'm super pregnant and my center of gravity is basically nonexistent right now. I've even been practicing the dance moves with a water bottle strapped to my stomach to make it feel heavier, because, you know, realism. Not that anyone else is doing that much preparation. But, whatever. I take my responsibilities seriously.

And of course, because the universe has a twisted sense of humor, Mr. Shue decided it would be an amazing idea to have me sing lead. With Finn. Again.
Like, I get it—I have the best voice in the club (sorry not sorry)—but literally every time I sing with Finn, he gets those stupid goo-goo eyes at me, and it's just... ugh. It's so uncomfortable. I can feel him staring at me like he's trying to memorize every hair on my head or something. And it's so awkward because, hello? We are both in committed relationships! I'm literally pregnant! Visibly! And he's supposedly in love with Quinn or whatever and about to be a dad too.