Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
She laughed nervously. “Hey. This is a surprise.”
I entered the room, closing the door behind me. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure I could make it, so I didn’t want to say anything ahead of time.”
“That’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.”
I stood awkwardly by the door, uncertain if I was supposed to sit in the little chair by the counter or remain on my feet. I felt vaguely in trouble, like I’d been sent to the principal’s office to hear about the consequences of my reckless behavior. My eyes wandered to the screen on the other side of the examination table Mabel was on. “Should I—”
Two quick raps on the door interrupted our conversation. “Ready?” called a female voice from the hall.
“Yes!” Mabel called out.
I jumped out of the way as the door opened.
“Hi Mabel,” said the woman who entered. She reminded me a little of my mom, and I felt guilty that this stranger knew about my kid before my mother did. “I’m Catherine. I’ll be doing your ultrasound today.” After dimming the lights, she turned to me and smiled. “Is this Dad?”
Christ. I was Dad.
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely audible.
Mabel hiccuped.
“Perfect. You can stand right there by her side,” Catherine said, moving to the foot of the table. “Okay, Mabel, I’ll have you lie back and put your feet in here . . .”
While Catherine arranged Mabel’s lower body and fiddled around beneath the paper sheet, I took a step closer to her. “Is this okay?”
“Of course.” She smiled, but I detected the worry behind it and moved even closer.
I wasn’t sure where to put my hands, so I folded them in front of my crotch.
“Okay, this gel will be a little cold, sorry,” Catherine said, her hand disappearing under the sheet with some kind of wand that looked like a microphone.
Mabel’s hands were clenching and unclenching at her sides. Instinctively, I took one and held it in both of mine. It was cold. “Are you nervous?”
She nodded, her blue eyes wide. The smile and the hiccups had disappeared.
“Okay, are you ready to see your baby?” Catherine asked.
Neither of us answered, but we both looked at the monitor.
Fuzzy, ghostly shapes that reminded me of jellyfish blobbed around on the screen.
“There we are . . .” Catherine moved her arm and clicked a few buttons on her console. “Okay, this pregnancy looks just beautiful. There’s the yolk sac,” she said, indicating what looked like a small glow ring. “And there’s the embryo.”
“That’s the baby?” I asked. My puck in the net looked like a small frog to me.
“Yes. This is the baby’s head, and that’s his little butt.” A dotted line appeared on the screen, and she clicked some more buttons. “You can see arm and leg buds have formed, and everything looks just perfect.”
I exhaled with relief—I hadn’t even realized I’d been scared. Mabel squeezed my hand, and I held hers even tighter.
“And now . . .” Catherine moved her arm again. “See that flickering in the center there? That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
My chest grew tight. How was it possible to see something so small? Hadn’t Mabel said the baby was only the size of a pea? “It is?”
“Yes. Let’s have a listen, shall we?”
More clicks, and then suddenly I could hear it—this wild little galloping that made my own heart feel like it had just been given a jolt of electricity.
“Doesn’t that sound nice?” Catherine asked. “It’s at one-sixty-nine, which is perfect.”
Stop talking! I almost yelled. I just wanted to hear that sound. Suddenly I realized why Gianni had suggested recording this moment.
But Catherine moved on before I could ask permission to take a video, taking more measurements and chatting with Mabel about her cervix, which I tried not to hear. When it sounded like she was about done, I spoke up.
“Would it be possible to get the heartbeat once more?” I asked. “I’d like to take a video, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Catherine tapped some buttons, and the little flicker appeared again, along with the graph on the bottom and that quick fluttering sound.
“You want to take a video?” Mabel looked up at me in surprise as I pulled out my phone.
“Yes. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, I’m just—” She smiled. “Yes. It’s fine. I’d like to have it too.”
“I’ll send it to you.” I aimed my camera at the screen and hit record, my own pulse accelerating as I captured that tiny beating heart.
A feeling I couldn’t explain engulfed me like a tidal wave.
Outside, I walked Mabel to her car.
“Are you missing training camp?” she asked.
“No. I caught a flight after practice this morning. Rented a car at the airport and shot up here.”
“When do you go back?”
“Really early tomorrow.” I paused. “I thought maybe after this, I’d drive down and tell my parents.”
“Oh.” She glanced up at me. “Are you nervous?”