34. There’s no Way We are Naming Him Damien
thirty-four
There’s no Way We are Naming Him Damien
Leah
T wo weeks later…
19 weeks pregnant.
“You doing okay?” Dylan asks.
I adjust myself on the exam table as the paper rustles beneath me. “Well, I won’t make it to third base with the doctor this time, so I guess that’s a win.”
“I can’t believe we’re finally going to find out if it’s a boy or girl.”
“I know. Now, we can stop calling the baby it .”
He stands up and starts pacing. The man can’t sit still when he’s excited. “What do you think it’s going to be?”
“I don’t know. I go back and forth.”
“Okay, what are you hoping for?”
I think for a moment. “I really don’t care what we have. You’re going to be a great dad to either one, and hopefully, I won’t cost them too much in therapy down the road.”
He comes over to kiss me on the cheek. “You’ll be great no matter what.”
I love his optimism, and I wish I shared in it, but I have zero faith in my abilities as a mother. I mean, I can probably keep it alive, but beyond that? I’m not so sure. I’m not very nurturing.
The baby moves around in my belly. The flutters I was feeling remain, but they’ve intensified.
“What are you hoping for?” I ask.
“Number one, I just want it healthy. But I keep picturing it as a boy. I don’t know why.”
“I get it,” I tell him. “You’d like to have a son you can toss around a ball with and all that other father, son stuff.”
A knock on the door interrupts our conversation. An ultrasound tech walks in and makes a little small talk while she gets the machine set up.
She has me lift my shirt and says, “Cold,” before squeezing gel onto my belly.
I look at her. “How many babies do you see in a week?” I ask.
She makes eye contact. “A lot.”
“Any of them ugly?”
That gets her to laugh. “Of course, not,” she says with a wink.
She flips on the monitor and presses the doppler to my skin. She moves it around a little until an image of our baby appears on the screen. This time, it’s not just a tiny blob. It’s a baby. It actually looks like a baby.
She zooms in on the face. “Aw. They’re sucking their thumb. ”
Dylan holds my hand while kissing me on the cheek. “There’s our baby.”
“Yeah, it is.” I smile while my eyes stay glued to the screen.
“Let’s see if we can get them to move around a little.” The tech pushes on my stomach.
“It was kicking like crazy before you came in here.”
“Of course. That’s how it usually goes.”
Finally, she pushes in the right spot, and the baby rolls over a couple of times, trying to get comfortable again.
“Do you guys want to know the sex?” She asks.
Dylan speaks before I can. “No.”
I look at him in disbelief. “We don’t? Speak for yourself, Sparky.”
He backpedals a bit. “We do want to know. But can you put it in a little envelope for us?”
My disbelief has morphed into utter confusion. “Why?”
“Because I have a little surprise planned for you.”
The tech smiles. “No problem at all.”
I have no clue what Dylan has up his sleeve, but knowing him, it’ll be something good. So, I opt not to worry about it right now and instead enjoy the last few minutes of watching the monitor.
When we finish, she hands us some photos she printed and an envelope before upselling us to spend twenty bucks to add the whole video on a DVD. Of course, Dylan buys it. I had no doubt that he would.
I wipe the goo off my belly, and we get ready to go. The tech leaves the room so that we have a moment alone.
Neither one of us say a word, but he comes over and wraps his arms around me. No matter what is going on, good or bad, his hugs always make me feel better. Right now, not a single part of me even feels sad, but being in his arms is still comforting.
Once we are out of the room, we pay the copay and get on the road.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Can’t it be a surprise?”
“No.” I laugh. “I guess it could be, but I may have no nails by the time we get there.”
He grabs my hand and holds it up. “You don’t have any nails anyway.”
“Okay, then. I’ll start chewing your nails.”
He yanks his hand away. “Woman, don’t even think about it.”
“Oh, I think you’re safe. They’d probably taste like motor oil.”
That gets a laugh out of him. “Alright, full disclosure? I had something planned that was pretty epic, but the rain has kind of ruined it. So, I improvised.”
“Full disclosure? That literally tells me nothing.”
He grins. “I know, right?”
Trying to occupy my mind, I fiddle with the radio.
Dylan says, “It was really cool seeing the baby.”
“Especially now that it actually resembles a baby,” I agree.
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. My back hurts a little, but I think that’s normal.”
He keeps the conversation going, distracting me long enough to get us to our destination. Much to my surprise, we pull up in our driveway. I look over at him. Instead of giving me any type of explanation, he says, “Wait here for just a second. I’ll be right back. ”
“Uh…okay.”
He practically springs from the truck to the front porch. He’s only in the house for a couple minutes before running back. Opening my door, he holds out his hand for mine. I take it and let him lead me inside.
As we walk through the front door, I see there’s about fifty candles lit all over the living room. The lights are dimmed, and the room is bathed in a warm glow. “What’s all this?” I ask.
“You and I are going to have a relaxing and romantic evening together. I was hoping to do it somewhere else, but we’re making the best of it.”
I smile at him, so he knows I’m not upset. “I love it.”
“I’m going to make us something to eat. While I do that, I ran you a bubble bath in my bathroom.”
“With the big tub?” I beam.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I follow him there and see the bathroom is set up just like the living room. With all the candles. The bathtub is full of bubbles and rose petals. There’s even a little shelf hanging across the tub that holds a cold drink and an iPad.
“What’s with the technology?” I ask. “Are you hoping I’ll drop it in? Because I don't know that it would have the same effect as a toaster.”
“Please don’t drop it in,” he laughs. “I didn’t get the insurance on it. It’s there if you want to watch or read something.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.”
He leaves me alone so that I can get naked and settled in the water. It feels amazing to just unwind. The problem, though, is that it’s me. I’ve never been all that good at unwinding—unless there was booze involved.
It takes no time for my mind to start racing.
Is the baby a boy or a girl? Which would be easier to raise? They say girls are more mature, but the teenage years are hell. And little boys are filthy all the time. Do I want motherhood to be harder now or later? What if the kid hates me? What if they turn all demonic like the kid in The Omen? Thanks, Dylan, for making me watch The Omen. If it’s a boy, there’s no way we are naming him Damien. What would we name it if it’s a boy?
Aaron? Nope. Dated one of those.
Jimmy? No, that was the name of the kid who pulled my hair in high school.
Jonas? Nah, sounds like a cowboy’s name.
How the hell are you supposed to name a kid? What if we give them an awful name, and they resent us for it?
“Dylan!” I yell.
He comes running in. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. But what if we name our kid something stupid?”
He crosses his arms over his closet and leans against the door frame. “What?”
“What if we give our kid a dumb name, and they hate us? How the hell are you supposed to name a kid? They’re all either names of people I hate, or they’re demonic?” As I get more and more worked up, my voice cracks.
He comes over to sit on the toilet next to the tub. “What if we just don’t name our baby something stupid? I’m sure we can think of something.”
I let out a sniffle. “I don’t know. I hate an awful lot of people.”
He leans over the tub and wraps his arms around me. “Calm down, gorgeous. I thought letting you take a relaxing bath would help keep you calm. I see it had the opposite effect.”
“I’m sorry I’m crazy.”
“Not crazy. Just pregnant.”
He gets me a big fluffy towel to dry off in, and once I’m all wrapped up, he leads me to his bedroom.
“You want me to grab you something to wear?” He asks.
“Just a t-shirt,” I guess.
“Can I make one tiny suggestion?”
“Uh, okay.”
Does he want me to dress up to go to the living room?
He disappears into his chest, and when he returns, he says, “How about you wear one of my t-shirts?”
He hands it to me, and I slide it on. “Damn, this thing is soft.”
“It’s always been my favorite. But I don’t think I’ve ever liked it more than I do right now.”
“Really?” I ask, doing a little spin.
“Yes. But I’ll probably like it even more when I take it off of you later.”
I can’t help but smile. “How is it that I can be in the middle of a breakdown, and you can cheer me up?”
“That’s my job.” He gives me a quick kiss before leading me out of the room.
On the coffee table, there’s an assortment of my favorite snacks. Mini quesadillas. Chocolate-covered strawberries. Cheese puffs. Pickle spears.
I grin. “I love it when you feed me. ”
I’ve been so preoccupied that I’ve completely forgotten about our mysterious little envelope.
I ask, “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Always.”
“Which one?”
“I already put one in. I think this one will be my forever favorite.” He clicks on the TV and presses PLAY.
The screen fills up with the ultrasound video of our baby. We both stare at the TV for a moment.
I look up at him. “Our baby looks even cuter on the bigger screen.”
“You’ve got that right.” He pulls out the envelope from his back pocket. “Should we find out if we are looking at our son or daughter?”
I nod and clap my hands together.
He slowly opens it and pulls a card out. When we look at it, there are three little words.
It’s a girl.
“We’re having a daughter,” Dylan says
When I look at him, his eyes are full of tears—just like mine.
“Are you happy?” I ask.
“Are you kidding?” He pulls me close. “We’re going to have a beautiful little girl just like her momma.”
“Don’t you dare put that curse on us,” I joke. “I hope she isn’t as much of a handful as I was.”
He pauses the video for a second. “I need you to know something.”
“Are you finally going to tell me you’re a serial killer? ”
“Damn, you figured me out.” He smiles. “I need you to know that I will always be here for you and this baby. No matter what’s going on between us, I’ll never leave. I’ll never walk out. I’ll always be the best father I can be.”
“What if—”
“Nothing that you can say next will change what I said. I’ll never leave.”
My tears start to flow again.
“Leah, baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just really glad that after all the assholes in my life, I finally found a good man. I’m having a baby with the man I wished my dad would have been. That makes me really happy.”
“You make me really happy.”
I grab the remote from him. “Now, let’s watch our daughter’s first home movie again.”