Chapter 18 Mia
EIGHTEEN
MIA
The gel is cold as it hits my belly. My breath hitches, my fingers tightening around Jensen’s. He squeezes back, calm and reassuring.
The sonographer winces. “Sorry, I know it’s cold.”
“It’s fine,” I smile as she presses the probe just below my belly button and takes a seat in front of the ultrasound monitor. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
There’s definitely no hiding the fact I’m pregnant anymore. In the last few weeks, my bump has grown into a defined curve that my husband cannot keep his hands off.
Even now, he’s rubbing his knuckles along the side of my belly.
I wince as the sonographer applies pressure. My bladder is bursting, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to embarrass myself.
I stare at a spot on the ceiling, clenching internally like my life depends on it.
Jensen presses a kiss into my hair. “You alright, beautiful?”
I hum, breathing through my nose like it’ll help. It doesn’t. “Just concentrating on not peeing my pants.”
The sonographer shoots me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about that, too. I wish we could do these scans without a full bladder, but it makes it easier for us to see your cervix. You’ll be able to use the bathroom in a moment.”
Jensen strokes my hair, his eyes soft, like I hold his entire universe in my uterus. “You nervous?”
I nod. “A little.”
That’s an understatement. I’ve been on edge all week waiting for this appointment.
In true Jensen fashion, he booked out the entire clinic again so that it’s just us here, and this time, I’m grateful for that.
If there’s something wrong with the baby, if my pregnancy isn’t progressing how it should, I don’t I want an audience for that.
“The baby will be fine.” He repeats the same words he’s given me all week while I’ve been fretting over this. “We’re just going to have a little peek to make sure they’re snug in there and then find out whether you’ve given me the gift of a daughter or son.”
My eyes burn when he says things like that. The way he already loves our child is beautiful.
“Okay,” the sonographer says. “Everything looks good, so you can go pee and then we’ll finish the scan.”
Jensen helps me sit. His arm wraps around my back, and he supports me as I slide off the table. My belly isn’t huge, but my center of gravity isn’t where it used to be so I have to be careful.
He helps me into the bathroom, and as soon as I start peeing, I groan with relief.
“Baby, that sound isn’t human.”
I look up at him. There’s no dignity anymore. I don’t even care that he’s watching me on the toilet. There’s no part of me he hasn’t seen anyway. He’s been inside every inch of my body. “You’d make that sound too if your bladder was burning and close to bursting, Jensen.”
“I would have peed all over the bed the moment she pressed my stomach,” he admits.
I snort. “I nearly did.”
I wash my hands when I’m finished and Jensen helps me back over to the table.
As soon as I’m settled again, the sonographer gives us her attention. “Better?”
“Yes.” I shuffle my leggings down again under my bump. “I nearly ruined your table.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
“Really?”
She nods and picks the probe back up. “It happens more than you think. Now, back to baby. Do you want to know the sex today?”
I glance up at Jensen, checking he’s still okay with our decision. He brushes a hand over my head.
“Yeah,” I say to her, “we do.”
No one speaks for a moment, and the only sound is the clicking of her machine as she takes measurements. “Okay, let’s have a look and then I’ll tell what you’re having. So your baby is measuring perfectly for twenty weeks. Everything looks great. Have you felt any movement yet?”
Jensen’s hand twitches in mine.
“I’m not sure.”
“It can feel light at this stage. If you’re feeling anything, that’s probably the baby.”
“Sometimes I get these little bubbles that I think could be them, but it’s probably just gas.”
The sonographer laughs, still clicking on her machine. “You wouldn’t believe how many people think their baby’s first movements are gas.”
“Should we be worried the baby hasn’t moved yet?” Jensen drops the question like a bomb. I snap my eyes to him. I didn’t even consider that it might be sign of an issue and now my stomach’s churning.
Her laughter morphs into a gentle smile.
“In first pregnancies, it’s not unusual for movement to be felt a little later, but if there’s still nothing by twenty-four weeks, let your OB know.
But those bubbles, Mia—that’s probably the start of your baby wiggling around in there.
And I can see movement on the ultrasound. ” She turns the screen toward us.
Unlike last time, I can see the clear outline of something baby shaped and, like she said, moving. My throat feels suddenly tight, my chest so full my breath comes out ragged.
“Fuck,” Jensen murmurs. “That’s our kid, Mia.”
“This bit here,” the sonographer points at the screen, “that means it’s a girl.”
I blink. And then I blink again because I can’t see through my tears. I knew it was a girl. I just… I had a feeling.
Jensen’s fingers lock around mine, and I glance up at him. My chest cracks open even wider. He looks destroyed, like he doesn’t know where to put all the feelings he’s having right now. His eyes are shiny, his jaw tight like he’s trying to hold back the dam of emotion and failing.
“It’s a girl,” I say in barely a whisper. “I told you.”
He lowers his gaze to me, and I swear I have never seen that look from him before. He’s so fucking gone that my usually controlled husband is unraveling in front of my eyes.
“Jensen? Are you okay?”
“Do you want me to get a chair?” the sonographer asks.
He scrubs his free hand over his face, but I can tell he doesn’t know where to put himself. “I’m pulling together every security protocol I have to protect our girl.”
Relief has me smiling. He’s okay. Just overwhelmed. “She’s not even born yet.” I swipe my wet cheeks.
“You have no idea how much I love you—both of you.” He rests his hand against the side of my belly, like he’s holding our daughter under his palm. He kisses me, soft and claiming. “My perfect little miracle maker.”
After the sonographer has finished taking all the measurements, Jensen gently cleans my belly and helps me sit up. He settles my sweater over the swell of my bump, his hands lingering there for a moment.
“You ready?” His eyes are filled with tender, soft devotion.
I nod and he guides me off the table, steadying my hips when my feet hit the floor. He doesn’t say a word as he slips his fingers into mine, leading me back through the clinic. It’s still empty, only Theo waiting for us in one of the squishy chairs.
He comes to his feet as we approach, scanning both of us as if he’s expecting to see wounds.
I hand him the printed picture of our daughter.
And Theo—built like a tank, hired to take a bullet for me Theo—swallows like he’s choking on his own tears.
“It’s a girl,” I say.
Theo lifts his gaze between the two of us, taking in my teary smile and Jensen’s frozen deer in headlights expression. He stares for a beat, like he’s checking to see if my husband is losing his mind. “You good, boss?”
Jensen exhales. It’s dramatic and loud. “I’m fine.”
Theo’s brow lifts a hair. “Your eye’s doing the thing.”
I turn to look. Oh, yeah. It is. It’s doing that twitch thing he does when he’s anxious.
I know he’s happy we’re having a girl, but his stress just doubled in the last five minutes.
He’s never going to have a moment’s peace between me and our daughter.
He’s probably already running through security strategies faster than a Secret Service agent.
“I’m not doing anything,” Jensen grumbles. “I’m perfectly calm.”
I bite my lip to hold back the laugh bubbling behind my teeth when Theo doesn’t let up.
“You want me to grab a paper bag for you to breathe into, or…?” Theo trails off, which makes Jensen scowl.
“I don’t need a paper bag.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“Theo, ease up on him. He’s suffering,” I say, curling against Jensen’s side as we walk, trying to soften my teasing.
“You’re both evil,” he mutters.
I poke his side. “We’ll be fine, besides the first ten years will be tea parties and dolls. It’s the teen years where you’ll need to take up day-drinking.”