"Maybe I just thought you were pretty," I said. "Maybe I wanted to sit next to a pretty girl."
She laughed. "Maybe?"
"Maybe."
We were still looking at each other all moon-eyed when a nurse stepped through the door to the waiting room.
“Camila?” she said.
I squeezed her hand.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
They took us back to the ultrasound tech, where everything was already nearly ready. The room was decorated on a shoestring—some kind of botanical print on the wall, a string of fairy lights along the top of the monitor cart, a small diffuser on the counter putting out something that might have been eucalyptus. Cold, though. The AC was running hard against the July heat and I'd felt it the moment we walked in. Millie sat on the exam table and I pulled the chair up beside her. She reached for my hand without looking.
The technician came in, introduced herself, snapped on gloves, and asked Millie a few quick questions while she pulled up the machine.
"First ultrasound?"
"First one," Millie said with a nervous smile.
"Best part of my job,” the tech said, smiling back. “Don’t be nervous—nothing invasive, you just need to pull your pants down just a little and relax.”
Millie pulled her waistband down an inch and the tech moved the wand into place. I kept her hand in mine as we all watched the monitor, the tech’s brow furrowing.
“Alright…” she said, humming to herself. The screen just showed static and grey shapes, nothing distinct. “It can take a second to find this early, but—ah! There we go.”
I squinted.
And right there–
All the breath went out of me in a bigwhoosh. Millie gasped at the same time, squeezing my hand.
It just looked like…a curved shape.Tiny, but there, andours.
“There they are,” the tech breathed, clicking on their monitor as they took readings. “And…if you look close at that little flicker—that’s the heartbeat.”
I'd known. I'd known since the test, since before the test, had been so certain that Millie had laughed at me about it. But knowing and seeing were not the same thing, and I felt that gap close all at once and something move through me that I didn't have a name for and didn't need one.
"Strong heartbeat," the tech said. She clicked something, took a measurement. "Good size for eight weeks. Everything looks exactly like it should."
Millie's hand tightened around mine.
I looked at her. She was looking at the screen, jaw set, eyes bright.
The tech looked over at her when she sniffled. “Oh, mama,” the tech said with a sympathetic smile. “I know! It’s cool, right?”
“Yeah,” Millie breathed. “I’ve just…I’ve wanted this for a long time. Didn’t know if it was going to happen.”
“Mm,” the tech nodded, looking back at the screen—clicking, taking more readings. “You’ve been trying for a while?”
I exchanged a look with Millie. Not at all; it felt like it had taken no time at all, like maybe I’d knocked her up that very firstnight. But how were you supposed to explain that you’d just met in a fertility clinic two months ago, that you’d never expected to come into each other’s lives in the first place? It was…funny and absurd and?—
“Yeah,” Millie confirmed, glossing over all that. “It’s been a while.”
The printer started up and we went quiet again, the tech handing over the photo as soon as it was printed. She smiled at both of us again and gestured toward the door.
“You’re welcome to go whenever you’re ready,” she said. “Congratulations.”
