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Chapter 26

Maxime

The waiting room is filled with women. Over by the window is a woman with a belly as big as a medicine ball. Up front, near the reception, two young girls are engaged in a lively discussion about the pros and cons of various contraceptive methods.

Attention: condoms are not as safe as you might think, I would like to whisper to them. Instead, I turn to Aurora, who is sitting next to me on one of the hard plastic chairs.

I reach for her hand. It feels damp and cold. "Are you nervous?"

"No." Her eyes burn with fire, yet she appears pale. "I can't wait."

Just like me. "We should be next," I say, pulling her into my arms. Not only to help her relax but also for my own comfort.

Side by side, we wait what feels like an eternity until Aurora is finally called in. Hand in hand, we enter the doctor's office. I can't keep my feet still as Aurora prepares for the examination.

Fortunately, our doctor, Monsieur Guiot, enters the room, smiling at me. His warm expression, with small laugh lines around his eyes and his unruly, gray-streaked hair, has a calming effect on me, just as it did during our first visit.

He closes the door behind him with a flourish. "Hello, Maxime. I'm glad you could join us again," he says, spreading a fresh cover on the examination table.

"I wouldn't miss it." Since my fingers are at risk of tearing each other's nails out, I shove them into my pockets. "Today, we're going to experience a very special moment." I sound like a little boy on Christmas Eve, but I don't care. There's so much joy inside me about this baby that I'd explode if I didn't show it.

A warm smile spreads across his face. "Then you should also make sure you have nothing planned for early May next year."

"It's already taken care of." Madame Durand is aware. The estimated due date is May 5th, and I can request leave at any time, two weeks before or after that date.

He nods approvingly, and at that moment, Aurora steps out from behind the privacy curtain. Although she greets our doctor in French, he asks her to lie down in English.

For me, this is another reason to feel comfortable with him as Aurora's and our baby's doctor. Many French people avoid speaking English, even if they know it.

He knows from our last visit that Aurora's French is still a bit shaky. He sits on his swivel stool next to the examination table and reaches for the ultrasound device. "Are you ready to meet your baby?"

I stand beside Aurora. Our fingers intertwine tightly. "Absolutely," I answer for her.

I stare intently at the black monitor. I don't even dare to blink until a gray-shaded image appears.

"Do you see anything?" Aurora whispers, tense.

Nothing at all. "To me, it looks like a slow-moving lunar landscape."

Monsieur Guiot laughs, then he lets the ultrasound device rest silently.

Suddenly, I see it.

There's an irregular dark spot, and within it, a bright figure is taking shape.

Aurora's hand tightens its grip on mine. "Wow," she breathes, full of awe. "The head is on the right side, right?"

"Correct. And here, you can see the body." His index finger moves across the monitor. "The heart is beating eagerly. The liver has already formed. And there are the legs already."

Touched by the moment, I step closer and squint my eyes. "Are these the arms?"

"Yes, I see them too." Aurora's enthusiastic voice gives me goose bumps.

Our doctor does something, but I barely notice. "Your baby measures three inches, and the limbs are well developed."

Three inches. I bring my thumb and index finger close together to estimate the size.

So tiny. Yet everything is already there.