Page 58 of Only for Tonight
I move over so he can sit beside me on the bed and he shakes his head. “Rest,” he urges. Standing up, he turns to ask the nurse something. I want to listen to them, but my eyes feel so heavy. I close them for just a second and the next thing you know I’m drifting off to sleep.
My eyes flutter open and I see the room is almost dark. I hear the sound of people talking in the distance, and I look to the side to see Jaxon stretched out in the chair in the corner. His feet are in front of him, folded on top of themselves. His hands on top of each other on his stomach and his eyes closed. I close my eyes again, feeling so much better as I look up at the clock over the door, seeing it’s been three hours since I’ve been here.
As if on cue, his eyes open and he sits up when he sees me awake. “You’re up.” he says nervously, “How are you feeling?”
“Oddly enough”—I smile—“like a million bucks.”
He smiles as he gets up and groans, “I’m going to go and get the nurse.”
I watch him walk out of the room, closing my eyes again for just a second. “How are we doing in here?” the nurse asks me, walking in with Jaxon trailing behind her.
“Feeling like a million bucks.” I smile at her. “You must have given me the magic potion.” I point up to the IV bag.
She laughs. “That’s what they call it.
“Your color is back and everything.” She smiles. “Doctor is about to come in,” she mentions and right then a man walks in wearing beige slacks and a Burberry dress shirt with a white jacket.
“Ariella Weber,” he reads the chart in his hand.
“That’s me.” I sit up and laugh. “Obviously, I’m the one in the bed.”
He smiles at me and looks down. “You were sick for close to twenty-four hours?” he says and I look at Jaxon.
“Almost,” he confirms, coming to stand on the other side of the bed next to me.
“You are ten weeks pregnant?” he continues, and I automatically put my hands to my stomach.
“I am.”
“No cramping or bleeding—a good sign.”
“What does that mean?” Jaxon quickly asks. “Is the baby okay?”
“If she was cramping and or bleeding,” he starts to explain, “that would mean the fetus isn’t viable and she’d be starting to miscarry.”
“So it’s good, then?” Jaxon asks and he nods his head.
“We’ll be able to tell by doing an ultrasound,” he states and looks at the nurse, who just nods her head and walks out of the room. She comes back wheeling in a machine as the doctor takes it from her. “If you can pull up the hospital gown,” he instructs me and I move the cover down to pull up the blue robe. Jaxon’s hands quickly move the blanket back up, covering my panties and I just look at him as the doctor tries not to laugh at him. He grabs the white bottle of gel, squeezing some onto the bottom of my stomach, moving the blankets down a little.
“Can we get the lights?” he asks the nurse, who turns off the little lights that are in the room. He puts the transducer on my stomach as he looks at the screen. He pushes down as he moves it right and left. “There it is,” he says, clicking on the screen and I look over to see our baby, “still there.” All I can do is look at the screen as the baby literally flips upside down. “Arms are starting to form as well as legs.”
I feel Jaxon bend and kiss the top of my head. “Everything is okay, then?” he questions. The doctor presses a button, and we hear swishing at first followed by the sound of trotting.
“That’s your baby,” he announces and Jaxon’s eyes go big.
“Can I film this?” he asks, taking out his phone and the doctor smiles at him and nods his way.
“Not of my stomach,” I tell him and he side-eyes me before placing his camera on the screen.
“That’s the heartbeat,” he talks to himself, “and that’s you.” He stares at the screen and I can’t help but cry and smile at him at the same time.
The doctor moves the transducer off of me before grabbing a towel and wiping the gel off. “Everything is good,” he confirms and tears off a paper from the machine. “I suggest contacting your doctor in the next couple of weeks.”
“Why do you think she was throwing up?” Jaxon asks him.
“It’s hard to say. It could be the flu, it could be something she ate. We’ll never know,” he says, then turns to the nurse. “Keep her on the fluids until morning and then she can go as long as she doesn’t vomit.” He turns back to us. “This is for you.” He hands us the pictures of our baby. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I look down at the baby who is the size of a raspberry but looks like he’s huge in there.
