“Why a magic wand?” Jordan asked.
“Because this is how we get to see your baby.”
“Where’s the outside thing that goes on the stomach—like the ones they use on TV?” Jordan pressed.
“We’ll use that when Georgiana’s further along.”
Her husband eyed the transducer warily. “You’re going to put that wand inside my wife?”
Dr. Beaver flashed his TV doctor smile. “That’s where the magic happens!”
She reached out, and Jordan came to stand beside her and took her hand. She needed this whole wizard and wand talk to be over. Would she ever be able to reread the Harry Potter Series without thinking of that giant medical dildo?
Her husband’s features grew pensive as he observed the probe, then turned to her. “You should be good with that size wand. Especially after the honeymoon and all the—”
She gave his hand a sharp squeeze. “Jordan, everyone here knows we’ve done it. We don’t need to rehash the antics of our honeymoon.”
“Don’t you worry about me! Sex machines are my bread and butter,” the doctor chimed.
That’s certainly not something one would expect to hear from a doctor, but she was having that kind of day. She leaned onto the crinkly paper lining the exam table.
Dr. Beaver held up the probe, then busted open a condom and rolled it down the shaft.
“What the hell is that for?” Jordan exclaimed like a nun who accidentally sauntered into a whore house—or an ob-gyn exam room.
“It’s for your wife’s protection. This fellow’s been around,” Dr. Beaver added, glopping a dollop of lubricant on top of the device.
This wasn’t her idea of fun either, but he wasn’t the one about to have Mr. Been Around shoved where the sun don’t shine.
“Jordan, it’ll be all right, and it’s not like Dr. Beaver is about to stick that thing inside you.”
“Jesus! I should hope not!” He glanced down at her. “Sorry, babe, I thought I knew about pregnancy, but this is all blowing my mind.”
“Aren’t you a CrossFit trainer?” the obstetrician asked, wheeling himself between her legs on the little doctor stool.
“Yeah, and my degree is in kinesiology. I learned how to advise women on how to exercise safely during pregnancy, but they never whipped out a giant vagina magic wand when I was in college.”
“Looks like you missed out!” the doctor replied with a made-for-TV laugh.
Should she ask to see his credentials?
“Do you have children of your own, Dr. Beaver?” she asked instead.
“I do. A boy and a girl,” he answered, donning a headlamp and turning on the vagina illumination light.
Okay, he was a father. He could sympathize.
“Did your wife allow you to deliver them?”
Dr. Beaver folded back the paper towel cover-up. “No, my husband and I adopted our children.”
“Oh! I assumed…” she trailed off, feeling like an asshat.
“No worries! The only vaginas I see are the ones at work. And, Georgiana?”
“Yes?”
“Yours looks great,” he answered, from between her thighs.
Again, not something one would expect your baby doctor to throw out casually, but before she could think of how to possibly respond, a cold tap to her lady area said this magical baby-finding probe session was a go.
“Watch the screen. I’m going to look around, take some measurements, then snap a few pictures,” the doctor said, beginning the ultrasound.
“Does it hurt?” Jordan whispered.
She shook her head. “It’s just weird.”
“You’re telling me,” he said under his breath.
“You didn’t expect to watch a doctor stick a giant medical magic wand in your wife this morning?” she teased—which was a pretty big accomplishment in her situation. Humor, while being probed, did not come easy.
“That’s some cervix you’ve got there!” the doctor remarked.
“Um…thank you?” she answered. Dr. Rosenstein had never complimented her lady parts, and she wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“I’ve never seen Georgie’s cervix, but everything else down there is pretty great and up to code,” Jordan replied, then cringed. “Sorry, words are coming out of my mouth, but they seem to be bypassing my brain.”
She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. At least, he was as nervous as she was. Between the magical probe and up to code vagina, today was going down as not only the day she learned she and Jordan would be parents, but the day she realized she didn’t have a clue about any of it. She stared at a framed picture hanging on the wall of a mother and baby in a state of maternal bliss.
That woman looked like she had it all under control.
Would she be able to do it?
“How about some music?” the doctor asked, cutting into her thoughts.
“Seems like a good time for some Michael Bolton,” Jordan answered, perking up. “I can pull it up on my phone.”
“That’s a great call,” she agreed.
There was nothing like his soothing voice and moving ballads. The man was a lyrical genius.
“Not that kind of music,” the doctor said with a chuckle, then pushed a button.
A quick whooshing sound engulfed the room.
“Techno?” Jordan asked the man, currently directing a probe in her lady parts.
“No, that would be your baby’s heartbeat.”
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Each punctuated splash of sound washed over her.
That was their baby—a real little person with a tiny baby heart.
Jordan crouched, so his head was even with hers, and wrapped his arm around her. They stared at the screen as the grainy image stilled, and a form came into focus.
“Is that alien peanut-looking thing our baby?” he asked.
“It sure is and measuring about the size of a blueberry. Everything looks great,” Dr. Beaver replied.
She stared at the alien peanut. Her alien peanut. Their alien peanut.
“Wow,” she whispered, emotion clogging her throat as pure joy—not the Joyce kind—the real thing, like opening your eyes on an extraterrestrial planet and experiencing an entirely new spectrum of color. An unexplored wonderland. A vast terrain of what-ifs. A million questions bubbling to the surface.
Jordan tightened his grip. “Wow, is right.”
“I’ll take a few pictures for you to put up on the fridge,” the doctor said, continuing the exam.
She nodded, but she wasn’t paying attention to the male model obstetrician between her thighs. This was a new chapter for them. As much as her life had changed in the past five months, finding Jordan, falling in love and getting married, it had been about the two of them. This chapter introduced a whole new plot twist—a plot twist with a little person, half her and half Jordan.
Dr. Beaver removed the probe, and she slid up to sit on the table.
“Oh my!” Dr. Beaver remarked.
Her gaze bounced from the probe to the ultrasound display to the doctor. “Is something wrong?”
“Babe, your gown is open, and you went with a fancy bra!” Jordan said, eyes wide.
She pulled the potato sack around her.