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“It’s my favorite throuple,” the doctor says.
“Fourple now,” Dylan says.
“Quadruple,” I correct him before realizing how stupid that sounds.
“Whatever you call us, we can’t wait to learn the sex of the baby!” Hazel squeals in delight.
“Well, you seem to be coming along quite well, so that’s good. Any notable problems? Queasiness? Discomfort?” the doctor recites.
“I’m pregnant. What do you think?” Hazel teases.
“Fair enough. Pull up your shirt, please. The jelly can feel quite cold, so brace yourself,” the doctor warns, as usual.
The doctor moves the ultrasound sensor around Hazel’s belly until a clear picture comes up on the screen.
It still looks a bit alien to me, but you can distinguish the arms and legs and the body of the little baby in her belly.
“Who do you think it looks like?” Hazel asks.
“Well, I have to say it will probably look like Andrew or Dylan due to the penis,” the doctor answers.
“Oh my God! It’s a boy!” I scream.
“I knew you wanted a boy,” Dylan laughs.
“Now, we have to have a quick conversation about paternity,” the doctor says, sitting down.
“What do you mean? We all have equal rights and responsibilities as parents for the child’s life. Not that we will need to divide things up ever,” Dylan chimes in immediately.
“I understand that. I also believe that you stand a far better chance than a lot of the parents who walk into this building. However, do you want to learn the paternity of the child just for your own knowledge? Legally, you will all share the same glories and difficulties of parenthood. However, knowing the father can provide valuable health information in the future,” Dr. Toner informs me.
“Now I’m conflicted. I don’t want to know, but I think we need to know,” I say.
“Is there a way to get the tests done and put the information in the child’s medical file without giving the information to us?” Hazel asks.
“We can do something like that, but I find these types of secrets hard to keep. However, you can move forward in blind bliss for as long as possible,” the doctor smiles and nods.
“Won’t we find out when the child develops its appearance?” Dylan asks.
“The possibilities can lead to a number of different outcomes that won’t allow you to accurately determine the paternity of the child without a test. You both have light eyes and tan skin. Plus, we need to include Hazel’s genes into the mix as well,” the doctor explains.
“I know if it’s a stud like me, I’m the dad,” I blurt out.
“Let’s hope I’m the father,” Dylan jokes.
“Well, everything looks great. Mom and baby appear healthy. You can still fly if necessary, but you can’t stand during the flights or help put luggage into the overhead compartment,” Dr. Timer tells Hazel.
“I think you may need to take a break from work for a while,” I suggest to Hazel.
“But I don’t want to be alone without you two,” Hazel pouts.
“We will take turns instead of taking flights together like we usually do,” I offer.
Hazel gives both of us a giant smile and starts to cry.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I’m sorry. It’s the hormones. But I really love you guys,” she says through tears.
“What do we name him?” Dylan wonders.
“Maverick,” I say.
“Maverick,” we all say together.
“I can’t wait to meet him,” I say.
