Page 41 of Interference
It takes another twenty minutes before they call me back. They weigh me and check my blood pressure and heart rate. Then they ask me to get changed into a little gown, making me feel insecure. Brett thankfully steps out, only coming back in when I yell that it’s okay. Then he holds my hand as we wait for the doctor.
When the knock comes, I swear my heart stops.
“Hello there. I’m Rebecca. I’m Dr. Nguyen’s nurse. I’ll be going over your intake with you. I see we have blood work from the Woodbury Urgent Clinic confirming pregnancy, so we can skip that part. Is this dad?” the woman asks as she looks at Brett.
“Yes,” I answer, my voice sounding shaky.
“I’m glad you could make it. Today we are going to do an ultrasound and get a good baseline on your health. Let’s start with the personal stuff. Are you okay with me discussing it with him in here?” Rebecca asks.
I squeeze his hand. He is not leaving me alone through this.
“That’s fine.”
After she goes through my file with me, she smiles. “I’ll go let the doctor know you are ready.”
When she steps out, I turn to Brett. “I’m scared.”
He smiles down at me, pressing his forehead to mine. “Me too. It’s okay.”
I let out a relieved breath. He has been taking this so calmly that I thought it was just me. I’m glad he is as scared as I am.
When the doctor comes in, she puts me at ease.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Nguyen. I hear we have a bun in the oven. How about we take a look at this little one?”
I nod, unable to speak.
She moves to my side and turns on a machine.
“This is supposed to be warm, but sometimes the temperature difference can be a bit much, so let me know if it bothers you,” she tells me as she grabs a bottle. Then she opens my gown around my flat stomach and squeezes some on. It makes me gasp, but I nod for her to continue. She uses a wand to spread it around as she looks at a screen. After a few minutes, a whooshing sound comes out of the machine. I’ve only ever heard it in movies, but I know what it is before she says it.
“That’s your baby’s heartbeat. It’s strong. You’re doing great, mama. Look. There is your little one.”
I glance over at the screen, tears filling my eyes. That’s my baby.
I hear a sniffle at my side and look up to see Brett crying.
No, it’s not my baby.
It’s our baby.
Our baby is on the screen. Our little apple.
Tears are streaming down my face, but I don’t care. I’m looking at our baby. Something equally part Emery as it is me.
I love you.
I send the thought to the baby through the screen. I never realized I could love something as much as I love this little blob on the screen. It’s not even a fully developed human yet, and I already feel such a strong connection.
That’s my blob, and I will do anything for it.
“Your baby is measuring about four and a half inches, so right about the fifteen-week mark, which is what you believed. He or she seems to be growing well. I’ll print you both a copy of this.”
The woman pulls back the wand and does something on the machine. Then she turns and wipes off Emery’s stomach with some paper towels. As she does stuff around the room, I look down at Emery. She is crying too.
I drop a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her hand. I am so happy that this happened with her. I cannot imagine having a child with anyone else.
When the doctor turns back, she hands me two photos.
