I do as she tells me, and sure enough, by the time I’m comfy, the tech is here and ready to get started.
She has kind blue eyes and introduces herself as Belinda. After squirting some of the warm gel onto my stomach, she begins pushing around the wand, making notes and taking measurements as she goes.
“Are you finding out the gender today?”
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice comes out a bit louder than this small space calls for. “I would love to know.”
“All right, let’s see what we have here then.” She begins to move the wand and press on my abdomen. This goes on for what feels like an eternity, and I’m quickly losing hope that I’ll find out today. I’m working on firming up my resolve to wait another month to find out when she blurts out, “It’s a boy!”
She shows me on the screen, and goodness gracious, is she right. My little man is showing it all off, proud as a peacock. I’m overcome with emotion, tears of joy streaming down my face. I’m getting my little prince after all. I’m so high on cloud nine, nothing can bring me down.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Belinda asks, softly giving my arm a little squeeze.
“Oh! Yes, ma’am, I’m just so-so-so happy.”
“Oh, good. I hate seeing mothers disappointed. A healthy baby is the real goal here." She smiles before telling me that I can head back out to the waiting room because Dr. Mills isn't quite ready for me.
Back in my chair, I flip through the ultrasound images Belinda gave me before digging my phone out of my purse to call Azalea with the news. Lord knows, she’ll kill me if she isn’t the first to know.
“It’s a beautiful day at Southern Roots! This is Seraphine, how may I assist you today?” Her creative greetings always amuse me.
“Well, hello there, Seraphine. Is Azalea with a client?”
“Myla Rose! Did you find out? Do you know? Hang on, I’ll go grab her!” I hear her drop the phone to the desk without putting me on hold, and within a few seconds, they are both yelling into the receiver. “Myla, we put you on speaker. Now, did you find out? Do you know?”
“I do.” I let my words linger.
“Are you gonna tell us?” AzzyJo barks.
“Yup.” I keep on with the short answers just to ruffle her feathers.
“Myla Rose, you tell us right this instant, or I’ll—” her threat is cut off by the nurse calling me back to finish the rest of my appointment.
“Sorry, sister-girl, they just called me back. I’ll have to tell y’all later!” I end the call and chuck my phone back into my bag before she can start griping at me.
After the dreadedweigh-in at the nurses' station, I’m led to an exam room to wait on Dr. Mills. I’m sitting on the table giggling softly to myself at the flurry of text notifications from Azalea and Seraphine when there’s a soft knock. “Come in,” I call through the door.
“Good morning, Ms. McGraw. I presume you and baby are well? According to the ultrasound notes, the little tyke is right on track.” He always makes a point to ask about the baby, and not necessarily in a doctor way. Sometimes, it’s in a more concerned way. He never gets too personal, but I can tell from his tone of voice that he wants to know more about his grandson, so I always try to offer up little tidbits here and there.
“Yes sir, we are. I’m so excited for a little boy.”
“Good, good. I–I’m glad to hear that.” His voice is soft, almost wistful. I know he cares about this baby, even if his wife and son don’t. “Lie back now, please, and I’ll take some measurements and then we can listen for the heartbeat.” I follow his instructions, and he goes about his work in silence.
“All right, Ms. McGraw, you’re measuring right at 16 weeks. Let’s take a listen to baby’s heartbeat.”
More warm gel, and then the small exam room is filled with a swooshing sound, the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard—my little man’s heartbeat. My eyes once again fill with tears, and with a quick glance at the good doctor, I see his have, too. It’s moments like this when I truly want to hate Taylor for not being involved. How he cannot love this baby is beyond me. Dr. Mills may not be the most affectionate man, but his heart is good. It’s a damn shame Taylor didn’t take more after him.
“Sounds good, 135 beats per minute.” He rolls over to his desk and hands me a towel to wipe off the goo, discreetly wiping his eyes before extending a hand to help me sit back up. “Do you have any questions for me today?” he asks as he enters notes on the computer.
“Um, yes sir. I do.” He swivels around to face me with an arched brow. “Is it a pregnancy thing to have weird dreams?” I stare at the wall behind him, embarrassed by my silly question.
“Oh, yes. Yes, Ms. McGraw. It’s from your increased hormone levels. Nothing to worry about. Anything else?” I shake my head no. “All right then, please have them schedule four weeks from now, and be sure to call if you have any questions.”
He stands and leaves the room, and I follow quickly behind. I’m sure the girls are losing their minds waiting on me.
Decidingto take a page from AzzyJo’s book, I want to get creative with telling the girls I’m having a boy, so I make a quick trip to Sprinkles, our local cupcake shop.
On the drive over, I call the store and ask them if they can whip up what I’m wanting on short notice, and they assure me they can. Fifteen minutes later, I’m out the door and on my way to Southern Roots, cupcakes and all.