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But the weeks before that, Beau wouldn’t let me just hide out in the bathroom during the nauseous mornings anymore.
No, he insisted I keep the door open, and he’d come in and check on me. On really bad mornings, he’d stay beside me while I wallowed by the porcelain throne. He’d hold my hair back, rub my back, and help me into the shower after my stomach finally settled to get cleaned up.
He made sure there were always crackers by my bedside and that I ate some before I ever got out of bed. One of the many things he’d read in the pregnancy books—which he’d read cover to cover. I was almost certain that he was now more prepared for this baby than I was. Which was only slightly disconcerting, considering that sometimes it still felt completely unreal to me.
I mean, I couldn’t actually be about to have a baby in six months. That was ridiculous. Absolutely freaking bonkers.
Except that Mrs. H had come through after all. She’d found a doctor to come visit on the down-low.
It was a former belle, who Mrs. H believed could be trusted to keep our secret. The Order had no more sway over the former belle because her dream had been to be put through medical school. Well, the woman was a doctor now in Atlanta, and when Mrs. H had explained my situation, the woman had felt compassionate enough to agree to see me. Especially when Mrs. H explained that Beau would pay handsomely for her services.
So last week she’d arrived and been discretely smuggled into our room by Mrs. H. My belly was still flat. The only change I’d noticed in my body was that my breasts were getting a little heavier, especially now that Beau and Mrs. H were on a two-person team ganged up to get as much food down my throat as possible every day.
I couldn’t say I wasn’t anxious as the woman pulled out her portable ultrasound and plugged it all in. Then she turned on her laptop, squirted some cold gel on my tummy, and started to push her ultrasound wand against my stomach.
At first there was just silence, and I’d never felt more terror than I did in that moment of horrible, abject quiet.
But the next moment, there it was. Wom-wom-wom-wom-wom-wom-wom. The baby’s little heartbeat so rapid and absolutely rock steady.
Beau was standing right beside the bed where I was lying, and his hand had shot forward and grasped on to mine. I’d gripped back to his hand just as tightly.
Listening to that heartbeat made my entire world shift.
Yeah, I’d known there was a baby. But there was something different about knowing and hearing evidence of their freaking heartbeat.
Then, in addition to having our hands locked, I’d looked up and my gaze hit Beau’s and it was like pow. Not only was I having a baby. We were having a family.
A thought that freaked me out so bad, I tried to pull my hand back from Beau’s. But he wouldn’t let go. So I stopped fighting him.
We hadn’t talked about where we stood in light of this big bombshell I’d landed right in our laps. We hadn’t talked about where that put the two of us in terms of his all-important contract.
Did he still consider me just… contractually? Had anything changed for him?
I felt like an idiot in that moment. Thinking about romance, feeling insecure about how a man may or may not feel about me when I was hearing my baby’s heartbeat for the first time. But it wasn’t like these were exactly normal circumstances. How the hell was I supposed to be feeling? There wasn’t any template on how to do this.
And thankfully, the doctor broke into my thoughts before I could spiral down the looking glass too far.
“Everything looks great. You’re about twelve, thirteen weeks along, yes?”
I nodded.
“The baby was conceived on Friday, May 1st,” Beau said. “Does that match what you’re seeing?”
Well, that was a splash of cold water on all my fanciful angst-filled thoughts. He was checking with the doctor to see if I was lying about him being the father. To double-check the timing of the pregnancy?
The doctor laughed. “It’s rare a patient knows the exact specifics, but yes, May first.” She paused and looked toward the ceiling like she was double-checking her calculations. “That matches perfectly.”
She looked down at her watch. “So you’re twelve weeks almost to the day.” She went on to explain what I could expect as I entered the second trimester.
Beau proceeded to pummel her with question after question about my health. Gestational diabetes, his concerns about my continued nausea and whether or not I was getting enough caloric intake each day, even what was the best brand of prenatal vitamins.
She patiently answered all his questions, then looked back to me. “Now, are there any other questions you have, mama-to-be?”
