“I’m not for the appointment. Just don’t like being in hospitals and stuff.”
“You were fine when we were waiting for Josie’s baby to be born,” she reminds me.
“That was different.”
“Why’s that?”
Thankfully the nurse calls Ashley’s name before I have the chance to answer. Especially since I don’t know how to answer her. There’s no logical reason for me to be nervous right now, but a big part of me keeps wondering what would change between Ashley and I if something were to happen to the baby. I don’t know if she would even want there to be anything between us. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I don’t know if I do, either. I like Ashley. A lot. For more reasons than the fact that she’s carrying my child. But if we take the baby out of the equation, is there still anything between us?
I’d like to think so.
And maybe that’s what has me so nervous.
I have never felt this way about a woman before. Not my first wife, and not Stacia, either. With both of them, I was reaching for something that wasn’t actually there.
That same thing I was reaching for, is exactly what I’ve found with Ashley.
I follow her to the exam room after they take her weight.
We take a seat and the nurse checks her temperature, her blood pressure and heart rate, typing everything into her laptop she carried in with her. After asking her a few more questions and continuing to type Ashley’s answers into the computer about how she’s been feeling, if she has any concerns, and a few questions to me about who I am to Ashley, she closes the laptop lid. “Okay, Ashley. We’ll need to take a urine sample. The restroom is right down the hall. There are containers on the shelf above the toilet. Simply put your name and birth date on the lid with the marker provided, place it in the cupboard, and I’ll grab it. The doctor will be right in.”
“Sounds good. Thanks,” Ashley replies.
“No problem.”
“Good thing I chugged a bottle of water while I was getting ready before you came,” she says before going out to do the urine test.
She’s not gone very long and only back a short time before the doctor follows her in. I met Dr. Fletcher at her last appointment and liked her. She’s probably fifteen years older than us, and has these bright blue eyes that somehow seem calming.
“Good morning, Ashley and Nik. How are you both today?” Dr. Fletcher smiles.
“Good,” we reply at the same time.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. I’ve had a couple days of morning sickness but nothing that I can’t handle. Just a little tired now. Earlier I felt like I could fall asleep at seven o’clock, but that’s gotten better. My appetite is starting to come back, too.”
“That’s good. What we like to hear. It looks like you’ve lost two pounds. This is not abnormal when you’re in your early stages. It’s nothing to be concerned about, especially if you’re getting your appetite back. Don’t be pushing yourself too much, but staying active will help. Do you have any concerns or questions for me?”
“Nope, not me. Nik?” Ashley asks.
“I’m good. Just excited to hear the heartbeat,” I admit.
Dr. Fletcher chuckles. “Let’s see what we can do about that, shall we? Climb onto the table.” She does and after using her stethoscope to listen to Ashley’s heartbeat and do some other basic testing, she says, “Good. Now, lie back for me then we’ll see about fulfilling Nik’s request.”
“Sweet. Let’s do this.”
They both laugh at my excitement. I can’t help it, though.
Five minutes later, I know why I was feeling anxious.
Hearing your child’s heartbeat for the first time might be the absolute best sound in the entire world.
There’s nothing that could top this. Maybe hearing him or her cry for the first time, but for right now? This is at the top of the list.
“Strong heartbeat,” Dr. Fletcher remarks, moving the Doppler against Ashley’s stomach.
We’re holding hands, Ashley and I, and staring at the little screen that doesn’t show us anything. But we can hear it.
“Oh my gosh,” Ashley whispers, tears in her eyes.
Thump — thump — thump — thump.
Thump — thump — thump — thump.
It repeats over and over. Faster than I expected it to be.
“Is that… it isn’t too fast?” I ask Dr. Fletcher.
“No.” She smiles. “It sounds perfect. Just how it’s supposed to be.”
We continue to listen, the sound exactly as Dr. Fletcher described it. Perfect.
“That’s our baby,” I say, reverently.
“Yeah,” Ashley replies, same tone in her voice. “It’s amazing.”
“Can I,” I lift my phone up, “Can I record it?”
“Of course.”
“Ooh, good idea,” Ashley says, beaming.
I press the button of the voice record app on my phone for thirty seconds, capturing our baby’s heartbeat so I can listen to it again later.
“I’ve been doing this for over fifteen years and I can honestly say this part never gets old.” Dr. Fletcher turns off the machine and takes a washcloth to clean off the goo she had squirted onto Ashley’s stomach. She sets everything aside then helps Ashley sit up, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. “If you have any questions or concerns between now and your next appointment, don’t hesitate to reach out. You can contact me through your patient portal or call the office directly. Otherwise, I’ll see you in a month.”
“Thank you.”
Dr. Fletcher nods and walks quietly of the exam room, shutting the door behind her.
“That was…”
“Incredible,” I finish for Ashley.
“It really was.” She wipes a few tears from her cheek. “I had no idea it would sound like that.”
“Me either. It’s so loud. And fast.”
“Can you send me the recording?”
“Yeah.” I open the recording and hit share, choosing her contact.
She slips off the bed and I help her into her coat, handing her purse to her once she’s settled.
“That was even better than I expected,” she admits.
“Same. It feels real now, at least to me. Not that it wasn’t real before,” I rush to explain, “but I haven’t had the pleasure of morning sickness to remind me of how real it is,” I say, smirking.
She wrinkles her nose. “The sickness definitely helps to remind me there’s a baby in there.”
“What do you have the rest of the day?” I ask her once we’re inside the truck and it’s started up.
“Today’s my day off so I planned to do some errands. I need to go to the grocery store and wash my car, do some laundry.”
“Fun day, then.”
“You know it. What about you?”
“Need to go into the office for a bit, but I would like to have dinner with you tonight, if you’re up for it.”
She smiles to herself. “Dinner tonight?”
“If you’re up for it,” I repeat.
“I think I can manage that.”