“Okay,” she closed the door. “We have you booked in for an ultrasound just to be on the safe side. When did you take your test?”
“Tuesday.” Keren had a bit more colour in her face now. “My implant had run out and I hadn’t remembered. Or noticed anything differently. I’m eight weeks at the most.”
So he could’ve gotten her pregnant the first time when they were in the bar. Or even on her bathroom floor. He stroked her hair.
“This is a new relationship?” The nurse smiled. “It doesn’t seem like it.”
“We’ve known each other forever. But it’s only recently become more.” Keren’s hands brought Scott’s to her belly.
He kept them there, wondering just how his life had changed so much in just a few hours.
They had to wait a couple of hours for the scan, during which time Keren’s blood tests came back showing a small level of carbon monoxide in her system, but nothing to be overly concerned about. The blood tests also confirmed that she was pregnant; probably seven weeks, which put it the weekend of her bike crash.
They were going to be parents.
The thought kept ricocheting through him. He was going to be a father in around seven-and-a-bit months. Nappies, night time feeds, bottles, baby-sick… His heart felt huge in his chest and he wanted to burst.
She lay back on the bed, his t-shirt pulled up to just below her breasts. The nurse – a different one – smeared some form of gel over her belly. There had been a conversation about a vaginal ultrasound and he’d tried to listen, but it had gotten a little… complex.
Then there was an exclamation from the nurse and a laugh.
“There’s your baby. Tiny at this stage, a little more than half an inch. That white dot is its heart.”
He looked at the screen, not making much out apart from what looked like bad interference and technology gone wrong.
“He can’t see it,” Keren said. “See that bean. That’s our baby.”
She held his hand tightly and he saw her tear up.
“Holy fuck, we’re going to be parents.” It suddenly felt very real. “I better start researching car seats.”
Her laugh was sheer music.
“I think we’re going to need to think about more than car seats.” She was captivated by the image on screen and Scott couldn’t blame her. “I can’t believe that the little bean there will be a real human baby in seven months.”
The nurse nodded. “I’d say you’re seven weeks and everything looks fine. I’ll give you a couple of minutes while I get someone more technologically minded than me to sort out a cable so you can take a photo with you.”
She left them alone. Scott looked at Keren, realising that he was going to need to let this catch up with him.
“This is huge.” He wasn’t sure if this was the sort of thing he should be saying, but he needed to get his words out there. “How are you feeling? I mean without everything that’s happened with the fire.”
“Exhausted. A little numb. Excited about the baby. Relieved because your reaction was nothing like I thought it would be. Wondering what the hell I’m going to do…”
“We’re going to do. You’re not in this on your own, Key. Whether you want me or not, I want to be a father to our child. It’s a bit of a shock, but I have seven months to get my head around the idea.” He felt odd saying the words.
She gave a nod and squeezed his hand. “I knew you’d want to be a dad. I didn’t doubt that. I was worried you’d be cross because I completely fucked up my contraception.”
“There’s no point me being mad about it.” He watched the little bean on the monitor, struggling to see how that was his child. “I’m not. When you think about having a baby you picture being married or living together and the standard relationship. So we’ve done things in the wrong order. We can deal with that. And I can’t think of a better mother for my child.”
He saw her eyes fill up. “You need to stop crying. It’s worrying me.”
She shook her head. “Hormones. I’m going to be a nightmare.”
“You’ve been a nightmare for the past fourteen years. If insulting me helps you then I can take it.”
She started to combine tears with laughter. “When do we tell people? It’s usually at twelve weeks I think.”
“Let’s do it then. I might tell my dad beforehand. And I don’t think anyone’s going to be talking about us after the fire.” He took out his phone which was still switched off. “I really need to let people know you’re okay. As soon as I switch this on I’m going to be bombarded.”
