Page 8 of Better Than Baby (Better Than Stories #9)

seven

“Are you okay?”

Lena spared me a wan almost smile as she sank into the upholstered chair in the lobby of Dr. Gwinn’s practice. “I’m—no. Excuse me.”

Aaron and I watched helplessly as she disappeared behind the nurse’s station for the second time in twenty minutes.

“I’ll check on her,” he volunteered, wiping his palms on his perfectly pressed khakis.

I didn’t bother pointing out that Lena preferred to deal with her morning sickness on her own. We’d told her from the start that we’d be there for her through all the good, bad, and not-so-pleasant parts of pregnancy, and the past few weeks had definitely qualified as unpleasant.

Who knew morning sickness could be an all-day thing?

Okay, a lot of people knew, including Aaron. Me…not so much. But I’d done my research and according to the experts, the near constant nausea and vomiting would hopefully subside once she hit the twelve-week mark.

Geez, I’d have thought it would have tapered off by now. I couldn’t remember the last time Lena hadn’t looked like Casper the ghost’s sister. I mean…she’d been so sick, she’d lost weight. Only a pound, but still…that couldn’t be good.

I wished I could have asked my mom and my sister or Aaron’s mom and sisters for advice.

A little real-experience feedback would have been appreciated.

But the doctor had assured us repeatedly that Lena’s symptoms were perfectly normal for a healthy woman in her first trimester of pregnancy, and we weren’t sharing this news until we officially entered the second trimester.

I glanced up as Aaron returned. “How is she?”

“She didn’t lose her lunch this time,” he reported worriedly. “The nurse shooed me away. She’s going to clear a room for Lena and have us join her as soon as she has a gown on.”

I reached for his hand and threaded our fingers. The woman sitting across from us flitted her gaze our way curiously. Fine by me. I hadn’t thought about hiding who I was or who I loved in a very long time. I certainly wasn’t going to start now.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Fine. Then again, I’m not the one who’s been barfing three times a day for five weeks. I’m also not the one in danger of my skin tone clashing with an adorable shade of violet.” He gnawed his bottom lip as he twisted to face me. “Good news…she gained a pound.”

I grinned. “Really? That’s awesome.”

“Maybe. She lost one last week, so I’m not so sure.”

“We’ll bring it up with Dr. Gwinn.”

“ Hmm .” Aaron stared at a point over my shoulder before meeting my eyes.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m just wondering if we’ll still want to tell our friends and families when your parents are here. Maybe we should wait till Lena feels better. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

I inclined my chin. “That’s two weeks from now. The baby genius Instagrammer says a lot changes once she gets to the second trimester.”

“Baby genius, huh?” Aaron beamed. “You’re cute, Matty.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Adorable.”

I huffed. “I’m not adorable or?—”

“Matt and Aaron Mendez-Sullivan?” The cheery young nurse hugging a clipboard stepped into the waiting area. “This way, please.”

Aaron squeezed my elbow as we followed her into a bright office furnished with low cubicles that let in natural light from the bank of windows overlooking the parking lot and a copse of evergreens in the distance.

A maze of hallways flanked the hub where nurses and admin coexisted.

Too preoccupied to pay attention to directions, we would have gotten lost without a guide.

This was a whole new world to us—pastel tinted and laced with a joyful air I assumed was unique to obstetricians’ offices.

Artistic black-and-white photography featuring parents in silhouette holding their swaddled newborns graced the walls.

And women in varying stages of pregnancy passed by in the hallway—some accompanied by partners, some solo, and one brave soul with two kids who couldn’t have been older than five or six.

I smiled at the mother wrangling her active kids and marveled at the idea that we could be just like her one day.

Okay…maybe I wasn’t entirely immune to hope.

“Is the ultrasound set for today?” Aaron asked outside the door with a file marked “Rodrigo/Mendez-Sullivan” sticking out of a plastic holder. “And does the doctor handle it?”

“It is, and Dr. Gwinn will see you afterward,” she replied.

Aaron’s mouth fell open. “Now? It’s happening now?”

“Yes.” The nurse chuckled. “Head on in. Your technician will be with you shortly. And don’t worry, they’ll take lots of photos for you…and video too.”

“Video! Oh…my God, Matty. We’re going to see him…or her.”

I nodded mutely, my mind whirling in a few directions at once as we entered the semidark cramped room.

Lena lay on a raised platform wearing a white gown, her long hair fanned around her like a halo. Her cheeks were hollow and her lips were chapped, but she glowed with vitality and a strength that made her look beautiful.

I set a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Feeling okay?”

She gave a wobbly smile. “For now, yes. Your baby is kicking my ass.”

“I’m sorry you feel like shit.”

Lena patted my hand and closed her eyes. “My mom says it won’t last much longer. But just as I think it’s getting better, my body decides it can’t stand the smell of something I used to love. Like peanut butter.”

Aaron groaned sympathetically. “At least it’s not coffee. My sister is a coffee-holic and she couldn’t drink a drop while she was pregnant with my nephew. She drank black tea instead and?—”

Knock knock

“Good morning!” A redhead with twinkling eyes and an ample bosom breezed into the room and sat on the stool in front of the monitor positioned near Lena’s head. “I’m Irene, and you must be the dads to be. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” That was Aaron.

I’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. My head was spinning now, and my heart was doing its best to leap from my chest. I shuffled with Aaron to Lena’s other side, unthinking.

My body was too big for this space. I felt like a giant in a dollhouse.

It was claustrophobic and—geez, was it hot in here or was that just me?

“Oh, you’re fine where you are. I’ll make sure you see everything I do,” Irene assured us. “Are you ready to meet your little one?”

I fiddled with the top button of my oxford shirt and cleared my throat while Aaron nodded emphatically.

The monitor buzzed to life under the gelled wand on Lena’s stomach. The screen hummed with a whooshing noise.

“What are we looking for?” Aaron asked.

“Your little peanut, and…there he is. Or she.” She hovered the wand and pointed at a blob. “I’ll see if I can get in there and check the sex if you’d like, but it’s still early and I’d hate to be wrong.”

Aaron scrunched his nose and leaned in. “Uh, we haven’t decided if we want to know.”

“You have time. It’ll be more obvious within the next two months. Okay, now…” Irene tilted her head thoughtfully. “I’m going to take a few scans for the doctor and point out a few details for you. Just bear with me.”

I peered over Aaron’s shoulder and swallowed hard, unsure what I was seeing yet completely and utterly transfixed. The second I was sure I could make out fingers or toes, the picture shifted and I was in the dark again. But then…

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

“What’s that?” I rasped, my voice rough and unsteady.

Irene flashed a sunny grin. “That, my friends, is a heartbeat. A nice, strong heartbeat.”

She was still talking. Something about developing eyelids and ears, but I could only make out every other word.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

The sound reverberated in my chest, humming through me like an engine. It was so loud that it clogged my throat, and pierced my eyes. I sucked in a gulp of air and somehow that activated tear ducts…and no, I wasn’t crying.

Or was I?

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

Holy shit.

There was a baby in the room. Our baby. Our son or our daughter.

Ours.

My nostrils flared as I fought to contain the rogue wave of emotion, my eyes fixed on the tiny beanlike pod on the screen.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

Aaron wiped tears from his eyes with a laugh that turned into a sob. He wrapped his arms around me and held tight.

This was real.

Sure, we had thirty weeks to go, and my practical nature wanted to insist that there were a hundred things that could go wrong and that one of us had to be realistic and prepared for the worst. But at the moment, I couldn’t be bothered with reality.

I kissed Aaron’s temple as he reached for Lena’s hand. The three of us shared a tentative smile that morphed into laughter. Aaron said his ears were like mine, I said she had Aaron’s spine…which was ridiculous, so we laughed some more.

Irene wiped the gel from Lena’s belly and stood. “I’ll have photos ready for you at the front desk, along with a video for your records. The next time you have an ultrasound, he or she will look a lot more like a baby. You’ll be blown away by the 3-D imagery.”

“We can’t wait.” Aaron waved as she closed the door.

“What do you think, Dads?” Lena glanced between us, squeezing Aaron’s hand, then mine. “This is good, huh?”

“Incredible,” I agreed. “It’ll be even better once you feel like yourself again.”

“Everyone thinks that’ll be within the next week or two. Just in time for you to share the news with your friends and family.”

That was going to be…surreal.

We’d been on our own through most of this journey, and the idea of sharing this news was both unimaginably cool and a little nerve-racking.

Our parents would be over the moon, of course.

My mom would go especially bonkers. I’d have to warn Lena about her smothering tendencies and mentally prepare for her to insert herself into everything from decorating the nursery to what type of diapers we should use.

But those were worries for another day.

Today, we could celebrate the little things…like a healthy baby with a strong heartbeat who had no idea how much they were already loved.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum