“Missy. Hagen. What can I do for you?” I know I agreed to this, but the words are stuck in my throat and the tears are building fast. I squeeze his hand, silently asking him to please do this. He looks at me with love and understanding and squeezes me back.
“Dr. Denise, we would like to stop everything for right now. It is all too much on her emotionally and physically. We need to put on the brakes and reevaluate.”
“I understand. A lot of couples find it daunting and emotionally taxing. I am glad you picked up on it sooner. We can certainly halt things. I do need to take some blood and vitals. You know to make sure nothing else has changed that shouldn’t have, and we will discuss what’s next.”
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and nod at her. The nurse comes in, takes my blood, and then we wait. Instead of sitting on the bed I sit in his lap, needing to be close to him. More and more lately. It seems like forever, before the doctor comes back in. In her hands are a bunch of papers and a bag. I assume it is information on adoption or like a support group or something.
“Alright. So, it seems the first insemination took. Congratulations!!! You’re pregnant.” I have no clue how long I sit there in the chair. Mouth open, heart beating a mile a minute. I look at Hagen and he is staring at me with much the same look.
“What?” I whisper. Needing to hear it again. “I thought it was too soon to tell?”
“By urine it would have been. That is why we take blood. It’s true. You’re having a baby.”
“Oh my God!! Hagen we’re…having…baby.” I cannot get the words out. I am so beyond anything right now.
“Missy. You did it. Baby, we’re having a baby.” He picks me up out of the chair and spins me around.
We kiss, not worrying about the audience we have right now. Eventually, she gives us all the stuff in her hands. Information on the first trimester. I make an appointment to come back in five weeks for our first ultrasound. Information on the signs of miscarriage, the do’s and the don’ts, and a bottle of prenatal vitamins.
Cloud nine can’t begin to describe it. When we finally make it home, he strips me as soon as we make to the bedroom and immediately, my pussy pulses for him. Instead of sliding his cock inside me, merging us together, my strong, powerful, Viking of a man, falls to his knees, tears in his eyes and kisses my abdomen that is now housing the life we made. He spends several minutes down there whispering to our baby how much we love him and have waited for him, as tears of happiness fall from my eyes, dropping to his chest right above his heart. The heart I own, and now so does our baby.
What more can a girl ask for?
Epilogue
Hagen
Fifteen Months Later
The day my son, Magnus Odin Jorgensen, was born my whole world changed. That was six months ago. I have begun to work a lot less, but most of what I do can be done at home and it has been freeing. The diner is thriving, even in this economy. Missy is living her dream and I would do anything to make sure that is always the case.
“Hagen? Where are you guys?”
“In the office,” I say. Magnus is strapped to my chest napping while I located a suspected drug and human trafficker, Dan Fielding. He’s originally from Upstate New York, but current intel has him in Miami.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re working hard over here,” I say chuckling. Dad jokes come easy to me now. It’s almost as if they were downloaded into my brain the second the nurse placed him in my arms. She giggles and holds her arms out. I stand and reach behind me, unbuckling this torture contraption and carefully hand Magnus out to her.
“Mommy missed you all day,” she whispers to him, breathing in the indescribable baby scent. “I am going to put him down and then we need to talk,” she says.
“Okay, I’ll be right out,” I say but I can’t help but wonder what this is all about. Her tone gave me no indication whatsoever. I make it to the living room before her. I grab a beer for each of us. I pop the top on mine and sit on the couch waiting for her. When she comes back out, she’s changed into one of my t-shirts. Her long legs tuck up under her as she sits down. I am momentarily distracted because I know she hates panties and I know she isn’t wearing any right now. “Beer,” I ask.
“No. Can’t drink,” she says rubbing her belly.