24. Malik
T he morning of Sametra’s appointment, I was up before my alarm even went off.
My mind was racing. Nerves, excitement, a little bit of everything brewed inside of me.
Today I’d get to see our baby for the first time.
Hear the heartbeat. Watch that little body move on the screen.
That thought had me in a complete chokehold.
We we’re really having a baby. Not maybe.
Not someday. Now. And that reality shifted everything about how I was moving through life.
I needed to marry Sametra before she gave birth.
I wanted her to be Mrs. Holloway when she brought our child into the world.
She’d more than earned that title. I needed to, adjust my retirement planning and update my insurance.
Find us a home. Sametra liked my house, but I wanted a better backyard.
I had a family now. But mostly, I had to make sure Sametra was loved, protected, and well-fed.
“Baby, please don’t get in there asking a million questions,” she said, checking her reflection in the visor mirror.
I smirked, but I didn’t argue. Truth was, I had been doing the most. I’d read every damn thing I could find, forums, articles, even cracked open a couple of journals I still had from school. I had half a degree in fetal development at this point and a running list of questions in my phone.
She caught me last night watching a video called “What Dads Should Know in the First Trimester” and laughed like I was watching cartoons. I didn’t care. I told her then, and I’d say it again, if I’m in, I’m all the way in. Ain’t no halfway. Not for her. Not for our kids.
“Why not? I’m a curious father,” I said, cutting my eyes at her. “I’m tryna make sure this baby don’t come out jittery ‘cause you sneaking around drinking iced coffee like it’s water.”
“What? I’m not!” she said, way too fast.
“Sametra.” I hit her with a slow head turn. “You posted a picture yesterday, cute lil’ selfie in the car. Real innocent. But what’s sitting clear as day in the cupholder, baby?”
“What?” she asked innocently, though we both knew she was caught.
“A large, iced coffee from Lasater’s. Weirdest damn thing.”
She burst out laughing, caught in 4K. “Okay…but listen, I can’t just stop . If I go cold turkey, my head’ll be pounding, and you’ll be asking who the hell I turned into.”
“I ain’t ask you to go cold turkey, but you could ease up. Maybe step down to a small. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
“I will. I promise,” she said, grinning like she knew she was lying. I kissed her knuckles, anyway, knowing damn well she’d be in that same drive-thru tomorrow morning like a crack addict.
“You ready for this?” I asked as we pulled into Dr. Cole’s office. She looked stunning. Anxious, but stunning. Her hand was warm in mine, thumb rubbing circles like she was trying to soothe both of us.
“Yeah,” she nodded, adjusting the bracelet I gave her. She’d been wearing it every day and seeing it on her wrist made me happy. “And I plan to pay attention this time. You ready?”
“I been ready since the day I found out,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Today’s the baby’s first photo shoot. We definitely gettin’ one of them 3D joints later. Put it in a frame or somethin’.”
She laughed, tension easing from her shoulders. “Don’t get too hype. It’s probably just gon’ look like a lima bean or something.”
“A cute little bean, though,” I said dead serious, making her crack up again.
Once we checked in, we sat in the waiting room, surrounded by soft music and other couples who all looked calm as hell. Meanwhile, I was bouncing my damn leg like it had a motor.
There was this one couple across from us, she had to be six months in, belly out, glowing, with her husband rubbing her back. That was gonna be us soon. Sametra round and glowing, me getting on her nerves with how much I hover.
“Relax, baby,” she whispered. “It’s gonna be fine.”
I tried. But my mind was on overdrive. Hands dragging down my joggers, trying to shake the nerves.
“Malik,” she said softly, tapping my leg. “You’re vibrating the whole row of chairs.”
“My fault,” I said, sitting up straighter. “Just... I don’t know. I’m excited. And terrified.”
Her whole vibe shifted. She turned toward me, eyes soft but serious. “Everything’s okay. My labs were good, blood pressure’s normal, no red flags. Our baby is strong.”
“I know,” I nodded. “It’s just... I want this so bad. Like, deep down bad. And the idea of anything going wrong? It’s got my stomach flipped.”
“Then you gotta speak life over us,” she said, grabbing both of my hands. “The energy you carry matters, Malik. Your voice, your presence, your faith, are part of what’s feeding our baby, too. So, no fear, no doubt. Just love. Just faith.”
I leaned in and kissed her, right there in the waiting room. I didn’t care who saw it. This was why I loved her so damn much. She was so strong, so wise.
“Sametra Andrews?” the nurse called out, and we stood together.
“I got you,” she whispered, lacing our fingers. She looked up at me, and I nodded. We made it to the room in no time. After she left, I helped Sametra up onto the exam table, smoothing the paper blanket over her legs.
“You good?” I asked, brushing my knuckles across her thigh.
“Yeah. A little tired, but that’s normal,” she said, locking eyes with me. “You don’t have to hover. I’m not made of glass.”
“I know,” I said softly. “I just... I want to take care of you.”
“You do. Every day.” She reached for my hand. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
A knock interrupted the moment, and Dr. Cole stepped inside with a warm smile. She was a middle-aged Black woman with calm, kind energy that immediately settled the room.
“Good morning, Sametra. And you must be Malik,” she said, extending her hand.
“Yes ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Congratulations on your engagement,” she added.
“Thank you. And thank you for taking such good care of my wife.”
“My pleasure,” she said, moving to wash her hands and prep the ultrasound. “Let’s take a look at this baby. Based on your last cycle, you should be right around eight weeks. We should be able to see quite a bit today.”
Eight weeks. Our baby had been growing inside her for eight whole weeks, and this would be the first time I got to meet them. The thought alone made my stomach act up.
“Alright, Sametra, go ahead and lie back and lift your shirt. This might feel a little cold,” Dr. Cole said as she squeezed gel onto her stomach.
I stood beside the table, holding her hand. The machine hummed to life as Dr. Cole placed the wand gently on her skin.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here...” she murmured, eyes focused. “Ah, there we go.”
The screen flickered and there it was. Our baby, our little sweet pea growing and blowing my mind already.
“Oh my God,” Sametra whispered, tightening her grip on my hand.
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even move. I was looking at our baby, our actual baby, and I swear I’d never felt anything more beautiful or more terrifying in my life.
“Everything looks perfect,” Dr. Cole said. “Nice size, good placement. Let’s see if we can find...”
And then it hit…the sound. A rapid rhythm filled the room, strong and steady.
Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
That sound wiped out every doubt, every fear, every worry I’d been carrying. My baby’s heartbeat. Our baby’s heartbeat. Strong as hell.
“That’s the heartbeat,” she said, smiling. “One-sixty beats per minute. Exactly where we want it.”
I turned to Sametra and leaned in close, my voice subdued and full of nothing but love and the utmost respect. Our baby’s heartbeat still echoed through the room.
“Anything you need or want, I got you. You’re carrying my whole life in there. I could never repay you for that. Not ever.”
She turned her head, blinking fast. “What did I tell you about making me cry in public?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing my thumb along her wrist. “I just need you to know… nothing’s out of reach. You want the moon? I’m on the phone with NASA to get you the damn moon and a few stars too.”
She laughed through tears, shaking her head. “Stop. Please.”
Dr. Cole chuckled softly. “Malik, I’ve heard a lot in this room over the years, but that? That was beautiful. Exactly what a mama needs to hear. You two are gonna be just fine.”
She continued the exam, pointing out different angles, taking measurements, and narrating every step. I soaked it all up, asking questions about development and what to expect over the next few weeks.
“Do you want me to print some pictures?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” I said before she could finish. “As many as you’ll give me.”
She laughed. “I can tell you’re excited. First baby?”
“First one,” I said, still staring at the screen.
Then I leaned into Sametra’s stomach, dropped my voice to a whisper meant just for my growing child. “Sweet pea, your grandma is getting on her first airplane just to meet you when you’re born. That’s how loved you already are.”
Sametra’s hand rested on my shoulder.
“Your mama’s here too,” I continued softly. “She’s the strongest, most beautiful woman in the world, and she’s going to take such good care of you. We both are. Oh, and you got a brother too. But I plan to be your favorite.”
“Anyway,” Sametra said laughing, but I was serious.
Dr. Cole finished the ultrasound and handed us several printed images. I held them like they were bonds, studying every detail of our baby’s tiny form.
“Everything looks perfect,” she said, cleaning the gel from Sametra’s stomach. “You’re measuring right on track for eight weeks and six days. Your due date is looking like March 30th.”
“March 30th,” I repeated, doing quick math in my head. “That’s about seven months from now.”
“Time to start planning. They’ll come quick,” Dr. Cole said with a smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”
I pulled out my phone and scrolled to my list. “Actually, yes. Several.”
“Bae,” Sametra scolded.