As Jessica’s due date approaches, there is an increased amount of anxiety in The Evening Sun newsroom. None of this angst is from Jessica, of course. She is as relaxed and calm about the whole thing as one could possibly be considering that she’s supposed to be having a baby in just a few more weeks.

No, it’s the rest of us. OK, maybe it’s just me. I’ve never been this close to a pregnancy before. Sure, I’ve got plenty of friends and family with children, but I’ve always been hundreds of miles away as they went through it all. But since I spend most of my days sitting a paperclip’s throw from my gestating co-worker, separated only by a cubical wall, this time I’ve had a front row seat.

And before you ask, no, I’ve never touched her belly uninvited, asked her to verify how many children she is carrying in her womb or passed comments about her weight. Do I look stupid?

Jessica was not lying in her column yesterday. She is as far from the typical stereotype of a pregnant woman as you can get. Her hormonal craziness has been at a minimum. She’s not the one crying at her desk in the morning or craving ice cream every afternoon. (That would be me.)