Page 77 of Interference
“Hi, I’m April, and I’ll be doing your scan today. Do you have any questions before we get started?” the woman asks.
“Not that I know of,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Awesome, if you don’t mind, please unbutton your pants and push them down some before you lay down.”
I do as she asks as she starts messing around with her machine.
“I apologize in advance, the gel is going to be cold. Dad, if you want, you can come stand next to mom,” April tells us.
Brett takes my hand as she squirts the gel onto my bump. I can’t help but suck in a breath when it hits my skin. I know she warned me that it would be cold, I just didn’t expect it to be this bad.
She grabs a wand-type thing and starts running it across my stomach.
“Your baby wants to be seen today. If you look right here.” She laughs as she points to the screen.
Brett’s hand squeezes mine as we stare at our baby on the screen.
It looks like an alien.
For a moment, guilt hits me for thinking it, but it’s true. The head looks large, and its body is small. The baby moves around, kicking its little legs. When it brings its fist up to its mouth, my heart clenches with happiness.
April babbles as she checks the lengths of our baby’s bones and the size of its head, rattling off all the stats, but none of them stick. They go in one ear and out the other.
That’s our baby. We made that. It hits me once again that I’m going to be a mom. I’m going to be responsible for this tiny little human for the rest of my life. This child will give me joy and heartache. I’ll get to throw birthday parties, spoil them at Christmas, clean their scraped knees, and everything in between.
Flashes of what my life is about to become flash before my eyes.
“Would you guys like to find out the gender?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Blinking, I look over at Brett and see him already looking down at me.
“What do you want to do, buttercup?” he asks.
“I want to find out, but at the same time, I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting this…”
He nods. “What do you think about doing it in private?”
“I’m going to be printing out photos for you two today. I can mark one with the gender and put it in an envelope for you guys to open when you’re ready,” April tells us.
“Really?”
“Of course. I do it all the time.” She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal.
I look up at Brett.
“What do you think?”
“Let’s do it.”
“All right, you two, no peeking. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to look again.”
Brett leans down and rests his forehead on mine.
Neither of us say anything, we just live in the moment.
As I drive, Emery holds on to the envelope in her lap like it’s a lifeline. In all honesty, I can’t blame her.
That little envelope holds the gender of our baby.
