"I want to know," she'd said. "Today at the appointment. I want to find out the genders."
I nearly choked on the water I just took a sip of. Emma has been adamantly against finding out, insisting that she wants to be surprised at the birth. I've respected her decision, though I've been dying to know if we're having boys, girls, or one of each.
"Are you sure?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager. I didn’t want to jinx it.
"I'm sure," she'd said, laughing at my poorly concealed excitement. "I woke up and just... knew I didn't want to wait anymore."
Now we're moments away from finding out, and I can barely sit still.
"Grant and Emma?" A nurse appears in the doorway with a clipboard.
I stand up, taking Emma's hand as we follow the nurse down the hallway. Emma's palm is slightly damp in mine, and I give it a reassuring squeeze.
"How are you feeling today, Emma?" the nurse asks as she leads us into an exam room.
"Good," Emma says. "Though my back aches more. Is that normal?"
"Completely normal," the nurse assures her, gesturing for Emma to sit on the examination table.
"Your center of gravity is shifting. That'll continue as the babies grow."
The nurse takes Emma's blood pressure, weight, and asks several routine questions about movement and symptoms before making notes in her chart. "Dr. Martelle will be right in," she says with a smile before leaving us alone.
I move beside Emma, taking her hand again. "You nervous?"
"A little," she admits. "But mostly excited. I think knowing will settle me more about what’s to come."
"Me too," I say, placing my palm on her belly. As if on cue, one of the twins gives a solid kick against my hand. "See? He or she agrees."
Emma laughs, covering my hand with hers. "They've been so active today. Some days I feel like they’re just going to kick right on through."
There's a soft knock on the door, and Dr. Martelle enters with a warm smile.
"Emma, Grant, so nice to see you again. My nurse tells me you’re ready to find out the genders.
I figured you would change your mind eventually," Dr. Martelle says with a knowing smile. "Most parents do, especially with twins. Being pregnant with twins is, honestly, enough of a surprise."
Emma smiles at her and squeezes my hand tightly. "I woke up this morning and suddenly couldn't stand not knowing anymore."
"That's perfectly normal," Dr. Martelle assures her as she prepares the ultrasound machine. "Let's get you set up and take a look at these babies of yours."
Emma leans back on the examination table, lifting her dress to expose her belly. I can't take my eyes off her—the way she cradles her bump, the glow in her cheeks, the nervous anticipation in her eyes. My heart feels like it might burst with love for her and our children.
Dr. Martelle squirts the gel onto Emma's stomach, and Emma flinches slightly at the coolness. "Sorry about that," the doctor says.
I move closer, holding Emma's hand as Dr. Martelle positions the transducer on her belly. The screen flickers to life, and suddenly there they are—our babies, so much more defined than the last time we saw them. I can make out heads, bodies, tiny hands and feet.
"There's Baby A," Dr. Martelle says, pointing to the screen. "Looking very healthy. Good size, strong heartbeat." She moves the wand slightly. "And here's Baby B. Also looking excellent."
Emma's grip on my hand tightens.
"Let's take a closer look at Baby A," Dr. Martelle says, adjusting the wand slightly on Emma's belly. She studies the screen for a moment, then smiles. "Baby A is... a girl."
Emma gasps, her fingers tightening around mine. "A girl," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
I'm frozen, staring at the screen where our daughter—our daughter—is moving, her tiny hand seeming to wave at us.
"And now for Baby B," Dr. Martelle continues, shifting the wand again. She pauses, making sure she has a clear view. "And Baby B is... a boy."
