Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
My leg bounces nervously as I wait. This is the weirdest experience of my life.
I’m sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for them to show me the first signs of life for a baby I created with the most perfect woman to walk the Earth.
I don’t know how I got here, but I take a deep breath and instead try to think of what a beautifully unexpected moment this is.
I never gave much thought to my life past the next day. Bite-sized pieces were all my mind would allow me without feeling like I was drowning in the noise.
I reach out, taking Isabelle’s hand in mine, thankful for all the curveballs life has given me, that she was one of them.
She smiles at me, those dimples popping, and she becomes my reason to keep doing better.
To keep working on myself, and to stop letting the little moments pass me by without appreciating them.
I almost regret the things I might have missed over the last decade when I was hiding behind redemption, but if I had done anything differently, I might not be here right now.
“We’re going to do a transvaginal scan for today’s appointment. You mentioned over the phone you were in a car accident recently, so this will give us a clearer picture of bubs,” says our doctor as she pulls on some latex gloves.
Isabelle’s hand squeezes tighter around mine as my eyes shift to the screen behind Doctor Reeves. What I’m not expecting is the doctor to pick up a dildo that almost makes me question my manhood. Almost.
“You know we’re here to see our baby, right?” I ask, eyeing Isabelle to see if she’s also slightly concerned.
Doctor Reeves lets out an amused chuckle. “We use a wand transducer earlier in a pregnancy or if there are any areas of concern.”
Isabelle pulls my hand to rest over her belly. “Don’t stress, Grim,” she whispers, and I force myself to take a breath.
I nod, and the doctor smiles, taking her cue to continue. Isabelle looks at the screen, so I do the same. After a few seconds, we watch as a black blob takes up the space. A tiny white bean settled in the bottom, a flickering pulse in the centre.
“You’re measuring eight weeks and three days. Does that sound right to you?”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Isabelle confirms, and her cheeks turn a soft pink. I kiss the back of her hand, then look back at the monitor.
“Does everything look okay?” I ask.
She hits a few buttons, adjusting the picture on the screen. “Everything looks great.”
“You’re sure? The accident didn’t affect the baby?”
Isabelle squeezes my hand, but I keep my eyes trained on the doctor.
“From what I can see, everything looks exactly how we want, but I’ll pop that in your notes to make sure we keep an extra close eye.”
“Okay. And what about work? She works long hours. Is there anything we need to be doing to make sure they’re both healthy?”
“I work a regular amount of hours.” She laughs.
Maybe I’m being a tad overcautious, but I believe in being prepared.
“Your wife is perfectly fine to keep going about her daily habits as normal.” Dr Reeves smiles, but my stomach takes a nosedive when she calls Isabelle my wife.
I booked our appointment under my name purely because I thought we’d have less trouble getting in quickly, and I didn’t want them saying I couldn’t act on her behalf if we weren’t married.
I didn’t realise I would like hearing it so much, though.
My thumb brushes over the back of Isabelle’s hand as the doctor speaks to her directly. . “There’s no need to change your routine. Just listen to your body. It’ll tell you if you need to slow down. And, if there’s anything super concerning that you’re not sure about, you can always give us a call.”
“I have had a drink here and there over the last few weeks, before I found out. Is that something we should be worried about?” Isabelle asks.
“While it’s unlikely an occasional drink in early pregnancy will result in high risk complications, the most important thing we can do now is make sure you’re not consuming any alcohol going forward, be on top of your prenatal vitamins and eating a balanced diet, and making sure you attend all your routine scans so we can monitor the baby’s progress.
” Doctor Reeves smiles, trying to reassure Isabelle as her shoulders slump.
“Statistics show around fifty per cent of women consume alcohol before they realise they’re pregnant, so you’re not alone.
We can only do our best with what we know. ”
“Okay,” Isabelle says on an exhale, and I brush my thumb over her knuckles.
“Let’s see if we can hear a clear heartbeat.”
My thoughts are stolen as the room fills with a whooshing thump.
“Nice and strong. That’s good,” Doctor Reeves says.
Isabelle turns her hand over in mine to link our fingers.
“Did you have any more questions for me today?”
I’m almost lost for words after hearing our baby. The emotions that take over me are so unexpected and overwhelming, in the best way. Taking care of Isabelle and our baby–loving them–it’s going to be the best thing I do.
I spent most of the day researching pregnancy, trying to get myself ready for this appointment, and understanding all the ways to support your partner.
“What about sex?” I ask.
“Henry!”
“What? She said to ask about anything we’re not sure about.
” That was the one thing I couldn’t find an answer for that I was satisfied with.
I felt reassured that I wouldn’t poke the baby with my dick, and glad I wasn’t the only dad who was concerned about that.
To be fair, I have a lot of inches to be concerned about.
The doctor smiles at Isabelle, who’s now hiding her face behind her hands.
“As I said, you’re fine to go about your normal routine.
After your first trimester, you’ll want to avoid lying on your back for too long, and you may need to adjust positions depending on what feels comfortable as bub grows.
But, as long as your pregnancy stays low risk, there’s no need to change anything. ”
She reaches over to her desk, picking up some paperwork.
“Here’s a list of which weeks you’ll have regular check-ups. A pamphlet for healthy eating and general wellbeing. Did your GP recommend prenatal vitamins?”
“Yes, we’ve started those,” I say. Two sets of eyebrows are raised in my direction. Isabelle rolls her lips, hiding her laugh before answering the doctor herself.
“Yes, I’m taking the vitamins.”
“Excellent. Well, that’s all I need for today.” Dr Reeves reaches under the monitor and pulls out a set of photographs, handing them to me. “When you leave, you can schedule your next appointment for your twelve-week scan.”
“Thank you so much,” I say in a daze as I look down at the photos of our baby. Emotions threaten to spill from my eyes. My baby buttercup. I stand from my chair, quickly shoving my crutches under my arms before helping Isabelle off the table.
“It was a pleasure to meet you both. Remember, call the office if you have any questions.”
“We will.” I nod as I follow Isabelle out of the room.
“Can I see?” She holds her hand out, reaching for the photos.
I stop in the middle of the hallway, handing her the photos. I lean back against the wall so I can pull her back into my chest. Wrapping my arms around her middle, my hands splay over her stomach as I look over her shoulder.
“How are you doing?” she says softly up at me.
As I stare down into her bright blue eyes, warmth wraps around my heart. “Never better.”
***
My fingers tap against my leg as I help Isabelle hop out of my ute.
I hate the fact that I can’t drive her around, but I won’t deny how hot I find watching her drive a stick shift.
There was no way I was squeezing my body into her tiny car, so she’s been driving my new car around the past week whenever we’ve been out together.
I could have had my old one fixed—it wasn’t a complete write off from the accident—but I didn’t want the memories.
I take in the older-style, white brick home in front of me. There’s a green gable roof, with matching shutters open on the front window. Pink roses are planted along a white picket fence, and a trellis of ivy grows up the front wall of the house.
“What are your parents’ names again?” I ask, for probably the third time.
“Jennie and Joe.” Isabelle beams up at me as she rubs my stomach up and down in an attempt to settle my nerves. “Don’t worry. They’ll love you. Dad might give you a hard time, but don’t take him too literally.”
My tongue flicks uncontrollably over my lip ring.
“Grim.” Isabelle places a hand on either side of my cheeks, pulling me down and pressing her soft, warm lips against mine.
I feel my stomach settle with the contact, humming as my body melts into hers. She pulls back before I’m ready. “It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
I nod as she leads us to the front door, not bothering to knock before she steps inside.
“We’re here!” Isabelle calls.
We move down the pale blue hallway, one side filled with family photographs. I try to stop and take them in, but a gruff male voice interrupts us.
“Hi, cherub.”
A guy stands from an armchair and walks over to us, sizing me up as he crosses the room.
He’s got a thick salt-and-pepper beard, but no hair on his head.
His grey and blue checkered shirt is rolled up his forearms, and there’s a big tattoo on one side.
I can make out enough letters to figure out that it’s the names of Isabelle and her sisters.
“Hi, Dad.” Isabelle reaches up on her toes to kiss his cheek, while his eyes feel like they’re burning a hole through my head.
I offer my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. I’m Gage.”
Isabelle smacks his stomach with the back of her hand, and he slowly takes my hand in his, squeezing just enough to let me know he won’t be won over easily.
“We were happy to hear you were alright after the accident.” Joe gestures to my crutches, then mutters under his breath, “Not too happy you ghosted my baby.”