"Good." The nurse finishes her notes. "Dr. Patel will be in shortly for the exam."
When she leaves, I look at Tucker. "You didn't have to do that."
"Do what?"
"Ask about helping me. I can manage."
"I know you can manage," he says. "But you don't have to manage alone anymore. That's the whole point." He gestures vaguely between us.
"The roommate arrangement?"
"The co-parenting partnership." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Sloane, you're growing two humans. My humans. The least I can do is make your life easier while you do it."
Before I can respond, Dr. Patel enters with her warm smile.
"Good to see you both again. How are we feeling?"
"Tired," I admit, eyeing Tucker. "But okay."
"Excellent. Let's take a listen to these babies."
She squirts the gel on my stomach—still cold, still startling—and presses the doppler wand against my skin. Static fills the room, then that rapid flutter of a heartbeat.
"There's Baby A," Dr. Patel says, moving the wand slightly. The heartbeat changes pitch. "And Baby B. Both sound strong and healthy."
Tucker reaches for my hand without seeming to think about it, his fingers threading through mine as we listen to our babies' heartbeats. I should pull away, maintain boundaries, but I can't make myself do it.
"Heart rates are excellent," Dr. Patel continues, making notes. "Growth is on track. Everything looks great. You’ll start feeling movement any day now if you haven’t already.”
I grin at the thought of that, of feeling my babies swim and turn inside my body. What will that be like? And then I’m hitwith a wave of sadness wondering if my own mother was even aware enough to appreciate my internal gymnastics.
"What about the exhaustion?" Tucker asks, his voice cutting through my melancholy. "The nurse said it's normal, but it seems extreme."
Dr. Patel gives him an appraising look. "Twin pregnancies are demanding. Her body is working overtime. The exhaustion should improve in the second trimester, which she's entering now, but with twins it might persist longer."
"So rest, small meals, and what else?"
"Hydration is crucial. Prenatal vitamins. And Sloane—" She looks at me seriously. "Don't try to maintain your pre-pregnancy schedule. Your body has different priorities now."
"I have school," I repeat weakly. It’s all I have right now. A few classes and shacking up in a fancy palace full of designer baby gear. I need to recalibrate. Remember my mission. I’m building the experience of the people I said I want to help, right? First-hand knowledge.
Dr. Patel taps her fingers on her leg. “Well, I would say whittle your days down to absolute must-dos and use the rest of your time sleeping and hydrating. There's no prize for pushing yourself to exhaustion."
Tucker squeezes my hand. I squeeze back.
"Any other questions?" Dr. Patel asks.
"When will we be able to tell what they are?" Tucker asks. "Like, boy or girl?"
“We should do an ultrasound to check things out visually. We'll schedule that for your next appointment."
I tune out as Dr. Patel goes through the now-familiar litany of what I should expect for the next round of appointments. My belly will be goo-ed up, the babies will be on screen, and I will double in size. Tucker helps me off the exam table with a gentle arm that dances across the small of my back as we make our way to the parking garage. I realize I like the feel of it, the warmth of his skin, the quiet support of his physical strength.
In the car on the way home, Tucker is quiet. I watch the city pass by the window, settling in to the growing comfort of being around him.
"Thank you," I say finally.
"For what?"
