He wasn’t kidding. This was our first time at this office since moving to Ventura, after weeks of waiting for our insurance to kick in. It was nothing like the trendy Santa Monica one I’d gone to for the other kids’ births. And we’d been on Medi-Cal at the time. This, apparently, was what private insurance got me further north.
“I guess our co-pay doesn’t cover complimentary Perrier anymore.”
“If you think about it,” Scott said, “L.A.’s home to the most valuable vaginas in the world. Makes sense they’d have quality waiting rooms. Here? It’s just working-class wombs. And the décor reflects that.”
His comment set off my giggles. I picked up a magazine and handed it to him. “No more shower thoughts for you today.”
Scott had only just begun flipping through the pictures when the nurse called us back. We followed her down the narrow hallway in single-file and into an equally no-frills exam room. No pink smock. No fluffy socks. No Ivy League obstetrician.
What we got was Dr. Ellen—middle-aged, no-nonsense, and refreshingly unpolished, like someone’s smart aunt who didn’t have time for mirrors. After the usual questions and checks, she smiled. “Right on the curve. I’m happy. Any questions, or shall we have a look at this baby of yours?”
Moments later, I was on my back in a dimly lit room. The machine buzzed softly as cold gel hit my stomach. The screen flickered to life, and grainy shapes shifted until a tiny body appeared. A strong, steady rhythmic beat filled the small room. “There’s the heartbeat.”
Scott’s breath caught. Mine didn’t. And I hated myself for it.
Dr. Ellen took measurements, explaining to us what we were seeing as she went along. “Baby is measuring right where it should. Strong and healthy.”
Scott squeezed my hand, his eyes wide with wonder as he got his first look at the baby. It was clear by his expression that he felt it—that unconditional love. I tried to meet him there, in that joy, but the connection still felt... distant. Physically, I’d recovered from the accident, but mentally I was still struggling to accept the life growing inside me. I thought by giving it time, I’d be more excited, but that hadn’t happened yet, and I wasn’t sure it ever would.
“Would you like to know the sex?” the doctor asked.
I said no. He said yes.
“How about I give you time to think about it?”
Seeing Scott’s disappointment changed my mind. Justbecause I didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl shouldn’t rob him of the moment.
“Actually,” I said, “I changed my mind. I do want to know.”
“In that case,” she said, turning the screen slightly, “congratulations, it’s a boy.”
On the car ride home,Scott rattled off names. Tyler, Brody, Zack. Every one of them sounded like they came with a surfboard accessory. I didn’t really care, because inside a quiet thought stirred.I just hope you’re strong, kid. Because you’ll have to be with me as your mother.
“Brett?” Scott tried again.
I shook my head. “Too... uncle-ish.”
“Okay, what about Chase?”
“No, I don’t want our son to have frosted tips.”
“You’re judging a baby for a hairstyle he won’t have for fifteen years?”
“Why set him up for failure?”
Scott drew in an exaggerated breath, playfully admonishing me. “Then what?”
“I don’t know, Scott. We still have a couple of months to decide.”
“Only a couple of months,” he repeated, beaming as he rested a hand on my knee. “It feels real now, doesn’t it? Seeing him.”
“Yes,” I replied on autopilot.
His brows furrowed, and his eyes returned to the road. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. The minute you hold him in your arms, you’ll know it’s right.”
My breathing turned shallow, uneven. I stared at his profile, searching the hard line of his jaw and the slight downturn of hislips for any sign, any crack in his perfect, supportive-husband façade. There was nothing.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice a thin, reedy thing I barely recognized.
