Page 65 of Jake and Conner
"Point taken," he said. "Next time I'll try to get a later appointment. Sorry for making you wait."
I nodded, even though part of me wanted to argue that he should maybe try taking things a little easier at work now that he was pregnant. The reason I didn't say that was because I knew I would never survive suggesting such a thing. My mate was a smart man. I had to trust that he would listen to his body and make good judgment calls without my nagging.
We arrived at the doctor's office twenty minutes later than we had planned to be there, but the friendly staff assured us they could still fit us in.
Conner thanked them profusely and we took a seat in the waiting room. There were several other men and women there. For a second, my gaze lingered on an obviously pregnant omega male who sat across from us. What struck me was how there wasn't anyone with him.
Following a subconscious impulse, I took Conner's hand and squeezed it.
I could never imagine not being here with him, being a part of this. We were on this journey together, and I didn't want it any other way.
Conner squeezed back with a questioning look in his eyes, but I only gave him a smile in response.
After about half an hour, we finally found ourselves in the examination room. The doctor, a kind middle-aged woman with a warm yet professional demeanor spread some gel on Conner's belly as he sat in an odd-looking chair that kind of reminded me of a medieval torture device, if I was being honest.
I held his hand again, because I didn't feel like there was any other way that I could be of use.
"See this screen?" Doctor Stetton asked, pointing to a little monitor to the side of the chair. "We can see your uterus here," she made a broad circle with her hand, "andherewe can see your baby."
I squinted at the screen, not sure what I was supposed to be looking at.
"There," Conner said, pointing at something on the screen. He must have read my confusion on my face. "Doesn't quite look like a baby yet, does he?"
"He's going to grow pretty quickly," the doctor said confidently. "Everything is looking good so far. Let's just take some measurements and then..." She muttered something that I didn't quite catch, fiddling with her instruments. Finally, she pulled out a Doppler device, and then, and then, over the machine's speakers, we heard a fast, rhythmic thumping. Our baby's heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.
I stared at Conner.
I'd known that he was pregnant, but this, this was the moment that made itrealfor the first time. There was a tiny person growing inside of him. A tiny person with both mine and Conner's genes who would refer to us as his daddies. Or her daddies. It could be a girl.
"When can we find out the sex?" I asked.
"Oh, not yet," she said. "I estimate that you're about twelve weeks along at this point. We might be able to tell the sex at your twenty weeks check-up."
"That's a long time," I said.
"An even longer time before the little one is born," Conner reminded me.
"I can't wait to meet her," I said, suppressing a groan. How was I going to wait for months?
"Me too. But we'll keep busy in the meantime," Conner said, as if he could tell what was on my mind. He probably could. There wasn't anyone who knew me as well as he did. "We have to set up a nursery," he added.
"But we don’t know yet what color to paint it," I pointed out. "Personally, I'm gunning for pink."
"Really? You want a girl?"
"You don't?"
"I'm fine either way, but I feel like it's a boy."
"Nah, I bet it's a girl."
Conner huffed as if he thought I was being silly. "How would you know?"
"I just do." I shrugged.
Conner shook his head at me but didn't argue any further and I grinned and started to plot.
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