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When I turn around, Lennon is sitting on the table, the paper draped over her legs. Dr. Monogan knocks on the door again, and I let her inside.

“All set, Mrs. Buckley?” she asks as she moves toward the computer.

“Yes.” Lennon kicks her legs as she sits there, probably from her nerves. Meanwhile, I’m fixated on the fact that the doctor just called Lennon, Mrs. Buckley.

Fuck. I like the sound of that way too much.

I walk over to her and grab her hand, sandwiching it between both of mine, rubbing it gently.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

“Trying to keep you calm,” I whisper back. Circle, circle. Tap, tap.

Lennon narrows her eyes at me with a quirk of her lips, but luckily, she doesn’t get a chance to respond.

“Okay, Lennon. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions before we do the exam?” Dr. Monogan asks.

“Of course.”

The doctor nods and then rattles off questions she must have memorized.

“Any constipation or hemorrhoids?”

Lennon turns to me. “Sorry that you have to hear the answers to these questions, but they’re standard.”

I try not to laugh too hard. “It’s okay.”

She faces the doctor again. “I’m in nursing school, so I get it. But I should have warned him.”

“These are common pregnancy symptoms,” the doctor says casually. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I can’t help but play along. “Come on, honey. It’s no worse than when you farted in front of me for the first time. We’re way past that now, don’t you think?”

Lennon’s mouth drops open with shock at my statement, but inside I’m fucking cackling. I love that I can still surprise her. But adding a little humor to the situation will probably make this easier for her.

Dr. Monogan laughs. “These are normal bodily functions, but I know they can be hard to talk about. However, if you experience any of these things during pregnancy, they are normal, and there are things I can prescribe to help with many issues.”

Lennon glares at me. Folding my lips between my teeth, I let my laughter subside as the two of them finish the questioning part of the exam. Then the doctor rolls an ultrasound machine closer to the table, propping Lennon’s feet in stirrups. I’ve watched enough medical dramas to understand the gist of what’s happening here.

“We’ll start with a transvaginal ultrasound, since you’re still early. If we need another view, we can try abdominal afterward.”

“Joy,” Lennon declares.

The screen comes to life as white and gray swirls fill it. Dr. Monogan covers the ultrasound wand, adds lubricant, and guides it into position while Lennon shifts on the table. She searches for the little bug that caused this turn of events in our lives.

When the bean-shaped blob comes into view, a tiny flicker near its center catches my attention, and Lennon and I both suck in a breath.

“There they are!” Dr. Monogan exclaims, pointing to the screen. She clicks around a few more times, zooming in on the little person growing inside of Lennon, and then turns on the sound as a thumping noise echoes in the room.

“Oh my god,” Lennon breathes out.

Meanwhile, my chest is shaking from the pounding inside. “Holy shit.”

“You look to be a little shy of ten weeks along, which is accurate given the date of your last period.” The doctor points to the screen again. “This is the head, the heart is that flicker obviously, and those little nubs are arms and legs.”

“There’s an actual human inside of me,” Lennon says as I grab her hand again and squeeze.

Dr. Monogan smiles. “Yes, there is. And everything looks good developmentally. Would you like some ultrasound pictures?”