First, I’m shushed, then I’m told to sit still. Is this some sort of motherly instinct taking over?
“The EMTs cleaned and cleared me,” I shared to ease her concern.
“No harm in double-checking.” She leaned back suddenly. “I did it again. Just jumped in with zero explanation. I swear, this baby is going to be a genius because she is siphoning my brain cells. I’m not some random nutjob poking and prodding at you. I’m actually a nurse nutjob poking and prodding at you.”
“I’m really fine,” I said, trying again to squeeze out of her hold.
That time, she let me go. “It’s not as bad as it looked at first. Keep an eye on that redness, though.”
Her words were reassuring, but the look on her face was anything but.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Baby girl is testing her somersault skills, and I think she was using my kidney as a kickoff point.” O reached toward me but caught herself. “Want to feel?”
Yes.
Wait, no.
Don’t do it, dummy.
“Uh, if you’re sure,” I answered instead, unable to help myself.
She grabbed my hand and pressed it to her lower belly.
Nothing.
“Of course she stopped. I just know she’s going to be a pain in the ass like her daddy.” She grinned. “And, fine, also me.”
Feeling awkward just sitting there with my palm on a stranger’s belly, I was about to shift away when I felt it. A roll followed by a kick.
Wow.
My chest clenched with such an empty ache, it stole my breath. I quickly dropped my hand.
“That must feel wild for you,” I said.
“It’s indescribable.” Still standing, she put her hands on her lower back and stretched backward.
I fought the urge to grab her in the same way she’d grabbed me, worried she would fall over if she kept it up. Or that the movement would squeeze the baby down. I knew that wasn’t how it worked—at least, I was pretty sure—but she was still making me nervous.
I must not have been hiding my fear well because she caught the look on my face and started laughing. “She isn’t going to launch out of me.”
“I didn’t think that,” I said.
And lied.
I totally thought that.
“I’m only a little over halfway there,” she added.
I didn’t have a wealth of knowledge about pregnancy or motherhood or any of that. My mom died when I was barely a toddler. My dad never remarried. He hadn’t even dated—at least that I knew about—so there were no maternal figures there. My brother Silas’s ex had barely come around the family when they were together. And I was a young teenager when Maggie was pregnant with Logan and Cora, so I didn’t remember much.
But even still, it was rude. I knew it was rude. Yet I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening that she wasn’t closer to her due date. Her stomach was just so perfectly popped out.
“I know, I know. When Mac was pregnant… Did you meet Mac?” At my nod, she continued. “When she was pregnant, she had this evenly rounded belly. It looked fake, that’s how picture-perfect it was. I was bloated before I even knew I was pregnant, and itnever went away. It just keeps growing straight outward instead of to the sides. Like I’m smuggling an oblong watermelon.”
“You look beautiful, if that helps. I know this is cliché, but you really are glowing.”
