Katie makes another small adjustment, the image flickering on the screen as a whooshing rhythm fills the speaker. A flood of relief spreads through me when it’s followed by a rapid thumping that echoes through the room.
“There we go, mama. That’s one strong heartbeat,” she exclaims, easing the probe slightly.
Heath shifts forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “See, Charlie? Our baby’s just fine.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “I’ve never heard a more perfect sound.”
He wipes it away with his thumb before looking back at the screen. “Me either. Definitely the cutest wrinkly turtle I’ve ever seen.”
Katie casts us a sideways glance but doesn’t comment on our comparing our baby to a reptile.
I cover my mouth as a bubble of laughter escapes. Heath watches me with a soft grin, his thumb stroking my cheek. I’ve never seen him so carefree and relaxed, and the sight does dangerous things to my already fragile heart. I haven’t been this happy in ages, and it’s all because of him, and this tiny life we created.
Katie patiently waits for me to stop moving before continuing the scan. “There’s the head, and you can see a little hand tucked against the baby’s face,” she explains, pointing at the monitor. “I’ll grab a few snapshots to print so you can take them home.”
I nod eagerly. “We’d love that.”
Our baby’s heartbeat continues its steady rhythm in the background as Katie repositions the wand and taps the screen to freeze the frame. With each change of angle, I’m left in awe, eager to memorize every detail so I can hold on to this moment forever.
Once she finishes, she prints the images and pulls them from the tray beneath the monitor.
Katie grins as she hands them to me. “Here you go, mama.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, clutching them to my chest like a lifeline.
These small images are proof that I’m really going to be a mom.
While I’m busy admiring my baby, Katie wipes the gel from my stomach and returns the probe to its cradle.
She stands and grabs her tablet from the counter. “I’ve sent everything over to the doctor. She’ll review your chart and come in and talk with you in a few minutes.”
“Sounds great, thanks again,” I say.
“Yeah, thank you.” Heath echoes. “You made this process a lot easier for both of us. We appreciate it.”
“My pleasure.” Katie turns to me with a grin. “You picked a good one, Mama. This one’s a keeper.”
My gaze shifts to Heath, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes, he is.”
As if to prove my point, he reaches over and tugs my shirt down, carefully adjusting the tubing from my insulin pump so it lies flat against my side.
I’m only vaguely aware of Katie slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her.
Heath doesn’t look away from me as he stands and moves to sit on the edge of the exam table beside me. I shift over to make room, though it’s a tight fit. Our thighs press together, and his body heat radiates against my side. He leans his head against the exam table, his breath warm against my temple.
“I’m glad I could be here for this,” he murmurs.
“So am I… I wouldn’t have wanted to do without you,” I admit softly.
It’s almost laughable now that I thought I could do this alone. I couldn’t have imagined sitting here while Katie searched for the heartbeat without Heath to reassure me.
“And here I thought you were just using me as arm candy this whole time,” he teases.
I shake my head, chuckling. “Don’t forget about the free lattes, professional blowouts, and your cooking. I don’t think I would have survived this pregnancy without your omelets. Pretty sure they’re my first real craving.”
He reaches over to cradle my face. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You won’t have to.”
Heath is so close that our lips are barely an inch apart. He pauses there, his eyes dark, and dangerously focused on my mouth as if he’s waiting for me to close the final distance. A reminder of his promise that when we crossthatline again, I have to be the one to make the first move.
