Catching my breath, I clear my throat to speak. “That’s a nice way to wake up.”
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“It’s okay, Lex, you work. I get it.”
“But it’s only our second night together here.”
“We’ll have plenty more nights.”
He pulls himself off me and lays by my side, resting on his elbow. “I have some bad news.”
“What?”
“I have to go to California on Saturday but just for a day. I’ll be back on Sunday night.”
Of course, I’m disappointed. I mean, it will be our first time apart, and it hasn’t even been a week. I try my best not to show it, but my damn hormones are all over the place.
“Okay. Will this happen all the time?”
“No… I mean, occasionally. I’m sorry I can’t get out of this one. Look at me, please.”
I turn to face him, trying not to cry. I blame the hormones—always blame the hormones.
“This is an adjustment for both of us. I’m not used to having to factor someone else in just like you aren’t. But I’m learning the word delegate… please be patient with me.”
“Of course, I’ll be patient with you. This is a huge adjustment for me, too.”
He wraps his arms around me, burying his head into my chest. Stroking his hair, I remember the ultrasound appointment, scolding myself for forgetting to text yesterday.
“I booked in the ultrasound, it’s at midday. I’m sorry I completely forgot to tell you. Will it be okay, or should I reschedule?”
“I’ll be there… wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
At midday, we are in the ultrasound room as the sonographer moves that wand-looking thing around my belly smeared with lube. Oh gross, it so reminds me of Eric’s endless KY stories.
“Okay, so I’m just going to take a few measurements first.” She continues to click on buttons and type as Lex sits beside me, resting his hand on my forearm. Both of our eyes are glued to the screen, waiting in anticipation for her to finish the important stuff.
Having a medical background, Lex is analyzing the image, his face serious as he watches her do her job. Secretly, I think she is intimated by his persistent stare.
“So, this here is your baby,” she says, pointing to this little pea-shaped thing on the screen.
“And judging by the size, you are about nine weeks along.”
“Nine weeks already?” I ask, stunned.
“Give or take a few days. Now time to hear the heartbeat.”
She turns up the dial on the monitor, and I wait, holding my breath until the loud thumping sound echoes through the room. It’s like music to my ears, the tell-tale sign that our baby exists, but this time I treasure this moment. This unbelievable life-changing moment consumes me so much I’m ready to burst into tears.
My eyes refuse to leave the screen as I watch our baby, in its tiny form, move up and down on the screen. It may be black and white, making absolutely no sense, but that little pea is our baby, and I cannot take my eyes off it.
“You have a very happy baby inside there.”
I glance over to Lex, who is unable to hide his happiness, his eyes dancing so bright as if the emerald lights up the dark room. His grin is infectious as I watch him experience this moment he has been so desperately waiting for.
“Do you hear that? Our baby is happy.” He beams.
The sonographer hands us a picture of the baby, my hands shaking as I stare at the image until Lex asks to hold it for a moment. He takes out his phone, snapping a photograph of it.