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I look at the woman I adore beyond measure and manage a short laugh. “No, I guess we don’t. But what I can promise you, Dee, is that I’m not looking back anymore. I have too much in front of me.” I place our joined hands on her stomach and kiss her mouth, letting go of the past in the shelter of Dee’s love, and the overwhelming joy I feel for our baby.
“We’re pregnant, beauty.”
ChapterThirty-Eight
Dee
“Is any of this painful?”Dr. Tia asks, sitting at the foot of the table between my open legs.
“No.”
“Good.” She smiles.
Tanned and fit, with frosted blonde highlights, the maternal-fetal specialist reminds me of Jennifer Aniston. I have the absurd thought of Rachel fromFriendsstaring at my vagina. But that takes my mind off my nerves and from her gloved fingers probing inside me.
I still have to pinch myself.We’re pregnant. My brain couldn’t process it when Mick first told me. Even with confirmed test results, I spent several days in a state of shocked denial. Afraid to let myself believe it was true or possible, when all these years I’d been told it wasn’t.
Since I was released from the hospital last Tuesday, Mick has been more attentive and affectionate than usual, which is saying a lot. He gets a kick out of rubbing and talking to my belly. It’s really the sweetest thing. Our little miracle has brought a ray of happiness to a dark time.
Whenever I think about what Malcolm did, what he could have done to his own son, fills me with a potent mix of rage and pain formy husband. What kind of a monster would do such a thing? And yet, Mick is handling it better than anyone could rightfully expect. He’s channeling all his focus and energy into taking care of me and our baby-to-be.
Mick is going to make an awesome dad. Fun and loving. Like Cayo. Nothing like his biological father, who continues to languish in the ICU with a potential charge of attempted first-degree murder awaiting him. For the last ten days, that story has been the headline. A media sensation. How could it be anything else?
Mick hasn’t made an official press statement or said anything publicly about the case or Malcolm’s motive. He will respond in his own time and in his own way.
Our people have been absolute gems. Isabelle and my friends helped me through a week of convalescence when I was on mandated rest. Lena has held down the fort in my absence. Gabi was my source of entertainment, regaling me with stories from school and TikTok clips. The kids and Dwayde drew us cheerful pictures. Mama T made us her Mexican Chicken Soup that she swears is the wonder remedy for whatever ails you. Maria and James prepared a host of organic meals that we can just pop into the oven or grab from the fridge. Victor, solid and reliable, is a constant source of comfort in just being there.
As much as we love and appreciate them, we haven’t shared our pregnancy news. Mick, excitedly, wants to. But scared to jinx it, I’m adamant about waiting until after the first trimester.
When the internal exam is over, I sit up and Dr. Tia invites Mick back into the room. He looks at me seated on the table, a sheet draped over my lower half, and meets my gaze. A crackle of awareness fills the space between us.
“How did it go?” He comes to stand at my side and reaches for my hand as he often does. A simple gesture that conveys so much. Support, solidarity, love. It says,we’re in this together.
“The pelvic exam went well,” the doctor confirms, shifting her gaze from Mick to me. “Everything feels normal. I have reviewed your ultrasound scan and there is a fair amount of scarring on the uterus. But given its location, there appears to be adequate room for you to carry to term. We’ll do another ultrasound after your first trimester.”
“So, the baby’s fine?” Mick asks.
“Yes.” She’s quick with a smile to relieve any worry. “Growing right on schedule. We’ll get an image at Dee’s next appointment that you both can see. Though it may still be too early then to determine the sex.”
“I don’t care,” Mick says. “As long as Dee and the baby are healthy.”
“That’s the goal here.” She wheels her stool over to her computer. “Let’s check your due date. Dee, you said your last period was two months ago. Can you narrow that down?”
“Yes. I’m not regular so missing a month or two isn’t unusual for me. But I’m fairly certain my last period was around February 17th, not long before our wedding.” Touched that I could have conceived then, I glance up at Mick and we exchange a heated look of remembrance.
“Alright.” Dr. Tia taps a few keys. “Ah, that puts you at ten weeks tomorrow and your due date at November 24th.”
A Thanksgiving baby! How fitting.
“Have you had any morning sickness or nausea?” she asks.
“Neither.”
“Any spotting?”
“No. My breasts have just started to feel fuller and tender.”
“That’s normal. Any issues from your head injury?”
