Pink used to be Anna Trauslen's favorite color. Just yesterday, she was a fabulous, single, happening thirty-seven year old event planner. Then the stick turned pink. Pink as in positive...as in pregnant...as in pure, unadulterated panic. This wasn't supposed to happen: she's scheduled to marry the handsome, successful, and very appropriate Ross Davis in six months. Unfortunately, while Ross may not rock her world with kitchen-table sex, his technique worked well enough to put a bun in her thirty something oven. Now instead of a fabulous rooftop apartment, fabulous clothes, and regular drinks with the girls, all she has is a nasty case of morning sickness, a future mother-in-law who's become obsessed with "Ross's Baby," and a custom designed wedding dress she'll soon be too fat to wear. Although she's trying to take some small comfort in the fact that one is never too bloated for a really cute purse, impending motherhood also has her reassessing more than her wardrobe--wondering if thirty-six more weeks is enough time for her to finish growing up.
