Damn horny pregnant women.
I was actually relieved when the lady came to direct us out the back. But then it also became very real.
I was about to find out what my babies were.
Marcy, the ultrasound technician, was a bright and bubbly older woman. “And how are we feeling today?” she asked joyfully.
“Little nervous,” Optimus grumbled as he helped me onto the bed.
“I think she was talking to me.” I chuckled.
“Dad’s get stressed too you know?” He folded his arms and dropped down into the chair beside me with a sulky pout that awkwardly, I found kinda sexy.
Marcy giggled under her breath. “And you, mamma?”
“Exhausted. But doing okay,” I answered with a shrug as she lifted my shirt and tucked it up under my breasts and then slipped a small towel in the waistband of my pants which were now sitting so dangerously low, if Marcy slipped, she could almost break my water.
“She’s had some pain,” Optimus threw in, causing me to look at him strangely.
“How did…” He was right, I had been having some pain over the past few days, but I didn’t want him to worry. It was probably just Braxton Hicks like the doctor told me to expect. Then it clicked. “Argh, Deacon told you didn’t he?”
“He shouldn’t have had to. You should have told me.”
“All righty!” Marcy interrupted as she squirted the sticky goo onto my belly. “We’ll have a look. If I have any concerns then we can talk about it. But otherwise, I would recommend for safety sake to see your doctor.”
Optimus took my hand, and with a wave of Marcy’s magic ultrasound wand, all was basically forgotten as a beautiful little face popped up on the screen. Neither of us could stop smiling as Marcy moved around our babies, checking their measurements and taking pictures of their heads and spines and feet and everything else. We’d had a scan before, but I swore this was the clearest. Their features were so little but so well defined now. They were beautiful little people.
“Do Mom and Dad want to know whether we are boys or girls?” Marcy sung happily.
“Yes,” we both answered together.
We did want to know. I wanted to be prepared, and we wanted to be able to discuss names and themes and colors and clothes. I was desperate to start buying little outfits for them to wear. I didn’t care if they were boys or girls. Baby clothes were all damn cute.
“Well, I’ve double and triple-checked, and it looks like you’re having…”