A fetal heartbeat. I’ve done so much Googling lately that all the information jumbles up in my mind.
“What’s the difference, anyway?” I ask, drawing Morris’ gaze as the cuff grows tighter and balloons around my bicep. “Why won’t the dermal wand work?”
“It’s really just an issue of distance. This fetus is about this big,” She holds up her hand, curling her thumb and forefinger for show. The release on the cuff hisses before she unfurls it from around my arm with practiced movements. “And your body makes so many other sounds. Your heart beat, your intestines, your breathing. So to hear the baby’s heartbeat, you really want to get as close as possible, and the vaginal wand does that. The dermal wand has to pass through your skin, any layer of fat, and muscle before reaching your uterus, and then it has to send those waves back out through it all again.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” I say before a soft knock on the door interrupts us. Morris goes to answer, and Baron steps inside to smile warmly at me, holding up a paper bag. My mouth waters. “Did they have the salad I wanted?”
“Yeah, they did. They had that brand of dressing you like the most, too,” Baron shuffles to sit in the chair in the corner as my stomach grumbling fills the small, crowded room. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing much. You’re just in time. My nurse should’ve told you when she called to confirm your appointment yesterday, but this works best when you have a full bladder,” Casting me a quizzical look, Doctor Morris smiles when I nod. “Good. It’s quick, but the pressure might make the urge more intense.”
“That’s okay. I absolutely will not pee my pants while listening to my baby’s heartbeat for the first time,” I shake my head, and Baron snorts a laugh from his spot in the corner. Scooting up to lay down on the bed, I look over as he stands up to leave the bag on the chair. “Do you have any comments about the past week about me?”
Baron’s eyes fly to me at my question, and I arch a brow pointedly. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he glances between the doctor and I. “Uh, not particularly, love. Did you tell her about how you’re chomping at the bit?”
I nod, and Baron shrugs. “Then I don’t have anything to add. What am I gonna complain about? It’s not like I can blame you for being restless, Delaney. Baby aside, you still have your ribs to worry about. You bend down or something wrong, and you’re shit outta luck, love. It’s not like you can put a cast on them.”
“I promise you that taking these two weeks and not straining yourself is going to get you back to it faster, Delaney,” Morris says as she moves to stand in front of the ultrasound machine to my left, propped up against the wall. “You always want to take it easy. It’s better to be sure than risk seriously injuring yourself worse and taking even longer to heal.”
Anxiety and excitement mingle in equal amounts in my blood, and Doctor Morris taps around on the machine for a moment before glancing at me. “If you can pull your shirt up and unbutton your jeans? Just shimmy down as much as you're comfortable. While we’re on the subject, you should stick to stretchy waisted pants from here on out. Leggings or sweatpants, or you can get some maternity pants preemptively. Depending on what size you buy, they’ll usually last your entire pregnancy.”
“Yeah, we were going to go shopping after my next appointment next week. After that, I’ll only see you once a month, right?” I ask curiously, and Doctor Morris nods as I roll my shirt up under my bust. Unfastening my jeans, I arch slightly to shove them down, the waistband bunching up under my arse. She tucks a thin towel against the waistline of my pants.
“As long as everything goes fine and you don’t trip over any more kitchen furniture,” Morris smiles as she grabs the wand and a squirt bottle, and I blush fiercely. “This’ll be a little warm. Exhale as much as you can for me, please.”
I do as I’m told, and Baron walks up on my right side to grab my hand and tangle our fingers together. Morris squirts the rounded, flat tip of the wand with the gel, and goosebumps blanket my arms and chest. My heart pounds with excitement, and I clench my jaw hard. Touching the wand to my abdomen, I shiver and gasp. It’s not just warm! It’s actually fairly hot! I arch to free the tension building between my shoulder blades before she works the wand downwards.
“You can hear you’re hungry,” Morris mutters absently, staring at the machine screen as strange, alien swishes and fluttering sounds flood the room. I don’t dare blink for fear of this being a dream. “There’s the little bugger. Let’s try to find a good angle.”
The world goes quiet for a split second before I hear it. My baby’s heartbeat is fast- so much faster than my own as it stutters in my chest. Pressing down on my abdomen, Morris uses her free hand to clack around the specialized keyboard of the machine out of the corner of my eye. I stare at some distant point on the wall, my vision growing bleary as the beating grows louder.
“I told you it’d have your cell shape,” Baron murmurs hoarsely, his gaze glued to the monitor. “Ah-h. . .”
“Can I see?” I look up swiftly, my croak a mere whisper. Morris nods mutely, turning the monitor to me. There’s a little, tiny dot on the screen, surrounded by a thin line. “That’s it?”
“That’s it. Right here,” She points at the small blob on the monitor, contrasting strikingly against the grainy blackness. My heart leaps into my throat, and my face grows hot. “Pretty soon, it’ll start wiggling around in there. I’m told it’s like bubbles popping in your abdomen. It’s already starting to develop bones and teeth and arms and legs, and bouncing around in your uterus helps promote proper muscle structure.”
“Ca- can we have more pictures?” I whisper hoarsely, but I can’t take my eyes off the screen. The sound of our baby’s heartbeat is strong, pummeling me from all sides with powerful reverberations. “I. . . don’t know, Baron. I think it’s got your cell shape.”
“Hmm. . . I guess you are pretty dense, Delaney.” Baron mumbles, and my gaze snaps to him before he tenses and looks at me through wide eyes. Frowning, I smack his arm with my free hand. Grinning lopsidedly, he leans to kiss my forehead when I turn back to the monitor.
“Everything looks good, and honestly, I don’t see any cause for alarm in your blood pressure or daily habits. I do want to see you in a week, Delaney, but for now,” Morris takes the wand off me, and the sudden silence is startling. I blink hard, turning to her as she grabs a few paper towels from the dispenser swiftly. “Are you taking anything for the pain?”
“Um, no. Why?” I ask worriedly.
“I was just going to tell you to stop. Tylenol doesn’t harm the baby, but obviously, any medication taken consistently over time does damage. When you come back next week, I’d like to know what the pain is like- is it achy, or only when you breathe- that sort of thing. Now that you’re nearly in your second trimester, you can expect some discharge and maybe some spotting. Don’t be alarmed by a few drops over the day, but if you develop uncomfortable cramps, pain, or if there’s a worrying amount of blood, you should definitely go to the ER again.”
“He’s an uncomfortable cramp in me arse sometimes,” I point at Baron, and he scoffs playfully as I wipe the gel away and sit up. “I just make another appointment up front?”
“Yeah, I’ll let the receptionist know, and I’ll see you in a week.” Morris smiles at Baron and I before slipping out of the room, and I flop back to heave a massive sigh. Clinging my arms over my head, I peek at Baron from under my elbow. He stands there, a dazed, far away look in his eyes before they suddenly flicker to mine. Holding out his hand, he grins broadly when I take it.
“You’re amazing, love.” He says as I stand on my feet, wrapping his arms around me in a tender hug. I savor his scent, his strength, and Baron runs his hands through my hair before pulling back.
“I am, aren’t I?” I reply, and he chuckles heartily. Walking to the chair to grab the bag while I shoulder my purse, he nods before we leave the exam room. The receptionist is already waiting for me, ready to make my next appointment.
Walking to the car, I climb into the front passenger seat while Baron takes the driver’s side, and I pull a small notebook out of my purse. Flipping through the filled pages, I hum softly to myself as he looks over. “What’s that?”
“I decided that since Jennifer’s got a good handle on managing the events at work, I’d try to come up with some wedding ideas that we could feature. Packages. Mostly just thoughts and notes that pop up sometimes when I’m becoming one with the sofa,” I answer, holding up the pad to show him. Baron’s brows twitch in surprise. “I don’t like doing nothing, and scribbling a few things isn’t going to break my rib. At least it helps me feel useful.”
