“Now the fun part,” Amber said as she dimmed the lights. She keyed some information into a laptop, and the huge screen in front of us—which I thought was just a TV—lit up with Mahasin’s information in the right-hand corner and the center’s branding on the left. “Let’s see Auntie’s beautiful baby.”
Amber opened the gown Mahasin was wearing and revealed her little belly. Seeing her bare skin made it obvious that she was indeed pregnant. I couldn’t help but lean in and place a few gentle kisses on her stomach.
“Aww,” Amber and Elle sighed in unison.
Amber squeezed the gel onto her stomach—and the way she flinched, I knew it had to be cold. She picked up what I now knew was the ultrasound transducer and pointed to the screen. I gazed up, but at first, I didn’t see anything—just some stuff that looked like brown water.
Then suddenly, an image of a baby appeared. It wasn’t the black, white, and fuzzy picture I was used to seeing. This one was clear—real. I was looking at my baby.
Lost for words, all I could do was look at Amber.
“It’s a 3D ultrasound, so yeah, it’s a realistic view of the baby,” she said, like my confusion was outlined on my forehead. She took her time showing each arm, leg, and the babies head, and was about to say something when Mahasin took the tool from her.
“I just want to measure the fluid myself,” she said, moving the transducer around her stomach.
“Fluid?” I asked.
“Yeah, an increased level of fluid behind the baby’s neck area is a sign that the baby has Down syndrome,” Amber responded.
“So, what does it look like, Dr. St. James?” Elle asked, already confident she knew the answer.
“Everything is perfect,” Mahasin replied, but her voice sounded like she was holding back tears.
“Relax, Dollface,” I said, kissing her forehead. “You’re not alone.”
“Baby is measuring around 15 weeks. Y’all want to know the sex?” Amber asked.
“I already saw, but it’s up to Gage if he wants to know,” Mahasin replied.
“Yeah, I said excitedly. I want to know. Fill me in, Dollface—but y’all better make sure to embarrass her if she’s wrong.”
“Ha! Me wrong? Imagine that. Anyways, smart ass—it’s a girl.”
Amber clapped, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the monitor. “Can I have a printout of her picture?”
“Of course. Okay, I’m going to draw for your NIPT panel—genetic and chromosomal. You said you wanted to add on a paternal profile, right?” Amber asked Mahasin.
“Will that confirm paternity?” I asked.
“Wow,” Mahasin replied, annoyance present.
“Aye, Dollface, don’t take it like that.”
“So how should I take it, Gage? One minute, you’re ready to buy us a house, and the next you’re questioning if she’s yours?”
“Listen,” I said, palms up. “It’s not an attack on your character. It’s just... look at how we conceived, okay? One night. No contact after. You found me months later. Anyone would ask.”
“He’s got a point, sis,” Amber muttered, then raised her hands when Mahasin shot her a glare. “I’m just saying.”
Mahasin blew out a breath. “Fine. The test I’m doing is non-invasive. It pulls DNA fragments from the baby’s blood—which is in my bloodstream—and compares it to yours. The lab will confirm it’s a match and email us the results of the test as well as establish paternity.”
“Thank you,” I nodded.
The email came in just after midnight, but I didn’t check it until I had my breakfast and morning coffee in front of me.
Subject:NIPT + Paternal Panel — St. James/Blaque.
Mahasin must have paid a substantial amount of money to expedite these results, especially on a weekend. I made a mental note to ensure that I would reimburse her. Swirling my spoonin my coffee, making sure it balanced well with the creamer, I dreaded the thought of the test saying baby girl wasn’t mine. My eyes found the line that mattered most.
