Page 23 of Shining Pearls
They returned his friendly nod before making eye contact with me for the first time. It was as if now that I had a partner by my side, they didn’t have to avoid my gaze any longer. While I appreciated Dean’s comforting presence in this moment, it made me dread even more going through most of this baby’s milestones alone.
I didn’t have too long to ponder being a single parent because the nurse flung open the door that led to the hallway of exam rooms and called my name. Dean took my hand within his large, warm one. It was a soothing gesture that immediately calmed my jittery nerves.
“Dr. Wilkes will be right with you,” the hard-working nurse informed us after she took my vitals. With that, she swished out of the sterile-smelling exam room and left Dean and me to stare at each other.
True to her word, the doctor knocked on the door less than a minute later. I smiled at Dean, thinking of the at-least-forty-five-minute waits I had endured at my sports physicians’ offices in Boston and said, “Gotta love small towns.”
Once I responded to the light rap for her to ‘come on in,’ the petite doctor hurried into the room and quickly got down to business. Before I knew what was happening, icy cold gel was slathered across my stomach and the doctor was using a handheld device to display the first images of my child onto a monitor.
Dean and I both stared at the screen with our mouths hanging open in awe. The doctor pointed at one edge of the beautiful blob inside me. “There’s your little one’s head.” Moving her finger to the other end of the curved form, she added, “And the feet.”
I leaned forward trying to make out each part of the tiny miracle growing inside me, unable to quite believe it was real. Pointing at my belly, I said, “Logically, I knew there was a baby in here, but seeing it makes it seem so much more real. This is truly happening.”
Turning to Dean, I fluttered my lashes as I tried to make sense of the images before us. Dean looked as stunned as I felt. His single word, “Wow,” made it obvious that he was as moved by seeing this as I was.
“I could stare at it forever,” I revealed to them both as I turned back to gaze up at the screen.
Dr. Wilkes chuckled and said, “Well, I have several other patients to see today, so I can’t quite make that work.” She gave me a friendly smile before adding, “Everyone seems to be trying to get in before we close later this week for the long weekend for Thanksgiving, but how about if I print you some pictures so you can take a look at this little miracle any time you like?”
“Really?” I asked, thrilled by the prospect of being able to show them to Aunt Mimi.
“Absolutely,” the doctor smiled before asking, “Would you like to know the sex of the baby?”
Dean gave her a perplexed look. “You can tell the gender from that?!?” He pointed at the alien-looking figure on the screen.
“I can,” Dr. Wilkes nodded.
I didn’t like the idea of someone else––even the doctor––knowing the gender of my baby, while I didn’t. My first instinct was to find out, but I wasn’t sure if that was what I truly wanted. I looked to Dean for guidance. We stared at each other for a long moment.
Dr. Wilkes shut off the equipment, wiped off my stomach with a paper towel, and said, “I’ll give the two of you a minute to discuss it and make a decision. I’ll be right back.” With that, she left and closed the door behind her.
Dean and I sat in silence. Finally, the questions started rushing out of me. “Should I find out? I should, right? I mean, it’s better to mentally prepare for these types of things, isn’t it? Or would I be ruining the big surprise on delivery day? Maybe I should do one of those gender reveal parties where they make a pink or blue cake. Or is that too dramatic? And what if the doctor’s wrong? I’ve heard about people being all prepared for one gender and then another pops out.”
I barely paused to take a breath as my stream-of-consciousness flowed out in a barrage of questions that I didn’t even give Dean a chance to answer. When I finally stopped, Dean chuckled and said, “Slow down and take a deep breath. It really comes down to one thing. Do you want to know now, or would you rather wait and find out when Little Bit is born?”
Hearing Dean refer to my unborn child by the nickname I used was heartwarming. I focused on his calm, easy demeanor and pondered his question. Suddenly I felt certain of the answer. With utter confidence, I said, “No, I don’t want to find out early. That would ruin the surprise. I want to wait and find out on my baby’s birthday whether it’s a boy or girl.”
“Perfect.” Dean answered, and I suddenly realized that although it was a lot of pressure to be in charge of all of the decisions surrounding my child, it was also rather nice to be able to do what I wanted, without ever having to compromise with regard to what I believed was best.
As if she somehow sensed that we were ready, Dr. Wilkes gave a light rap on the door before breezing back inside. She handed me the screenshots of my tiny angel and asked, “Did you make a decision about whether you want to find out the gender?”
I surprised us all by saying, “Yes, I want to know now.”
20
Claire
Since Hannah’s school had scheduled the entire week off for Thanksgiving, Alex and I dropped our daughter off with Alex’s sister, Avery, on Monday morning. The woman and I had our issues with each other, mostly because I didn’t appreciate the way she had always relentlessly teased Alex. I knew all about sibling rivalry, however Avery took it to a whole new, uncalled-for level. But there was no denying that she loved her niece with all of her heart, and Hannah felt just as strongly about her fun Aunt Avery.
I did feel bad that Avery had lost her job as a paralegal––presumably for publicly standing by her brother’s side while Alex had been thought to be the town’s first murderer––although the law firm would never admit to that being the reason for her dismissal. She’d been struggling to find gainful employment since, so I knew the extra cash from babysitting Hannah would come in handy, although she would likely fight us about accepting it. I would win that battle, even if I had to stuff it into her purse on the sly.
Alex was taking a rare morning off from writing, and I had reluctantly asked the bank for a day of paid time off. Although my year-long leave of absence hadn’t been voluntary, I still felt guilty about asking for vacation time so soon after my return, especially since I was now enjoying a schedule with shorter work hours. But I had a good reason for requesting the day off.
My period was late. The last time it had been late, Hannah had been the cause. It wasn’t just that, though. Ifeltpregnant. My breasts were tender, just like they had been during the first trimester with Hannah. More than that, my body knew there was another life growing inside it. Oh, and the drugstore pregnancy test that Alex had purchased late at night––hoping to avoid starting the rumor mill, in case it was negative––had resulted in a fabulous pink plus sign.
I knew it wasn’t fair to place so much desperate hope on an innocent baby, but I couldn’t help but think that this child might be just what Alex and I needed to get our relationship back on track. The miracle of Hannah’s birth had been an incredible bonding moment for the two of us. It wasn’t wrong of me to crave getting back to that wonderful, comfortable place with my husband. This baby was our return ticket to that easy intimacy. It had to be.
The niggling fear wouldn’t go away that now that I was pregnant, Alex wouldn’t have any reason to make love to me. The few times we’d touched each other since my return had been prefaced by a mention of our decision to have another child. Hopefully, the news that we had successfully created another life would make him realize that we were growing a family that needed two parents, who fiercely loved not just their children, but each other, as well.
