Nineteen #2
Rowena met his gaze, wondering if he knew the constant torment going on inside her over this matter. As a woman—a mother—she wanted to see her baby. As a midwife, she knew it was the medically responsible thing to do. But every fibre of her being shied away from it because what if?
The what ifs in her brain had quietened more and more as the pregnancy had progressed but they were still there. Still hiding and jumping on her in that place where she was most vulnerable—the point where hope and despair intersected.
Except, this wasn’t just her baby. And Lachlan had been incredibly patient. She didn’t think for a minute that he’d demand it, but she had to stop thinking only of herself because it wasn’t just about her. It was also about him.
And yeah, okay, as much as she knew how bittersweet it would be, a tiny part of her wanted to see the baby, too.
‘Yeah,’ she said quietly.
He blinked, a tentative smile touching his lips. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ She nodded, her throat suddenly thick with a rising well of emotion. ‘It’s time.’
His smile grew bigger as his blue eyes lit up and, before she could evade him, his hand slid to her cheek to cup her face. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured. ‘Thank you.’
A traitorous tear brimmed over and spilled down her cheek, and he gently wiped it away with his thumb before leaning in, kissing her forehead and folding her into his embrace.
Rowena settled against his chest, the worn flannel of his shirt soft against her skin. She inhaled, the faint aromas of his musky deodorant, the laundry detergent Reggie used and something far more elemental filling her senses.
It felt so good like this, leaning into him. It wasn’t throwing her down on his bed and making her come so hard she saw stars, but right now, it was exactly what she needed.
*
Three days later, Rowena was lying on a narrow examination couch in a darkened room with Lachlan standing beside her and Will, the radiographer, sitting at his machine as he squeezed cold goop onto her exposed belly.
‘Okay,’ he said, as he picked up the probe and fiddled with some buttons on his machine, the screen lighting the room with a fuzzy white glow. ‘Let’s meet this little tacker, huh?’
Rowena’s heart rate trebled as a strong surge of dread and inevitability injected hot, lead bolts of panic into her limbs. She could hear the rough timbre of her own breathing and wondered if she was about to have another panic attack.
But then Lachlan’s hand found hers and squeezed, pulling her back from the edge, grounding her immediately. She took some deep breaths as he smiled at her with such confidence.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ he murmured.
Rowena had no idea how he could be so sure when she was the one carrying this baby and he was not, but it helped. She returned his smile, although hers was wobblier. And then, in one swipe of the wand on her belly, their baby appeared.
It was a fuzzy black-and-white blur but it was there, squiggling around on the screen. There were hands and feet and a spinal column and, right in the centre of its little fuzzy chest, a tiny manic flutter, beating away strong and sure.
Lachlan’s other hand came to rest on her shoulder and she swore she could feel him trembling.
Will went through what he was seeing and what he was looking for.
It wasn’t a proper morphology scan—that usually took place around twenty weeks—but at almost fifteen weeks, the baby was more advanced than most dating scans so he had more to work with.
He also knew this was their first time seeing the baby so was giving them the full treatment.
Rowena had witnessed many, many foetal ultrasounds over the years, so she was familiar with the procedure. Still, she clung on to every image, every word. Every organ and blood vessel that checked out was a boost. Every foetal and uterine measurement that was normal, a source of hope and relief.
And when he clicked a button, filling the room with the whop, whop, whop of the heartbeat, a lump the size of the outback threatened to choke her.
‘What a beautiful noise,’ Lachlan murmured, raising their joined hands and kissing the back of hers.
‘One hundred and forty-seven,’ Will murmured. He smiled at them. ‘Perfect.’
Given how gestationally advanced the baby was, it only took the right move at the right time for Rowena to see the gender. ‘It’s a girl,’ she said. She was having a little girl.
They were having a girl.
Will smiled. ‘It is.’
‘A girl?’ Lachlan leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the fuzzy image. ‘We’re having a daughter?’
Rowena wasn’t sure if Lachlan was seeking confirmation or expressing disappointment. Maybe in his head he’d been dreaming about a blond mini-me in matching boots, Levi’s and Akubra who would follow him around the farm like a little shadow?
‘Yes,’ she confirmed.
With a zillion things to worry about, Rowena hadn’t even thought about gender. But maybe it mattered to Lachlan?
He turned suspiciously bright eyes on her. ‘Oh, that’s perfect.’ He smiled so big it tore a huge gash in Rowena’s chest. ‘A daughter.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Reggie’s going to be beside herself.’
Rowena laughed. ‘She will, won’t she?’
They grinned at each other and, as much as Rowena tried to temper this rising feeling of optimism, right now she was just about levitating off the bed.
Will pressed some keys and confirmed what they already knew. ‘Fifteen weeks and one day. Due date March sixth.’
March sixth.
Dare she hope that by some time around that date, she’d actually, finally, be able to hold her baby? That she’d be a mother? That Lachlan would be a father?
Will clicked around for a few more minutes, printing off two copies of an image from the scan—their daughter in profile, one hand raised as if waving. Then it was over and Will was wiping the goop off Rowena’s belly.
‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘She’s perfect.’
He departed then, but neither of them noticed as they stared at the picture. Lachlan nuzzled her temple and said, ‘She’s perfect.’
Rowena nodded, tracing the image with her finger, too overwhelmed to speak.