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“Will we be able to see the baby?” It’s subtle and I doubt Brenda noticed, but I don’t miss the hint of hope and, dare I say, excitement in his question.
She nods and points to the monitor. “Yes. This examination will be longer than other ones you’ve had, but you’ll see the baby right here.”
Brenda doesn’t give him a chance to ask any further questions, turning to me to explain the process with the ultrasonic gel and wand.
“Okay, let’s get started.” She glances at Ridge. “Please understand that I’m not here to interpret the scan. That’s what Doctor Anderson will do. But if you have a question about what you’re looking at or if you want me to point out things, I’m happy to do so.”
My fingers tighten around Ridge’s palm—he hasn’t let go of my hand since I put this thin gown on—and I smile first at him, reassuringly, and then at the technician. “Thank you. We understand.”
He closes his mouth and watches the ultrasound wand glide over my abdomen, starting low on my pubic bone. A growl escapes him.
Brenda stalls with the wand, eyes widening. “Is everything okay?”
“Where are you going with that?” His chin points to the wand sitting close to my bikini line.
“Um…” Her cheeks flush as her mouth opens and closes a few times, and I try hard not to giggle at how absurd he’s being. “In order to see the baby and all the different angles, I need to slowly move this around Ms. Hallman’s stomach.”
Tentatively, stealing furtive glances at Ridge, she resumes sliding the wand slowly and purposely up to my belly button.
At first, his eyes don’t veer from the wand, as if he knows what’s expected and plans on grading her. Once he’s confident that she knows what she’s doing, his sharp gaze locks on to me, cataloging my every breath and twitch as the wand glides over my belly.
A strong galloping sound fills the room, and I can’t help but smile at the sound of my baby’s heart.
Ridge stands and knits his dark brows together. “What is that? Is something wrong?”
This is his first time at an ultrasound, and I gently pull on his arm to get his attention.
His head swings to me, and the overwhelming adoration, clouded by the confusion and concern that swim in his blue eyes, causes my heartbeat to sputter. His genuine and unabashedly apparent love for our unborn child intensifies my joy and excitement at seeing our baby inside of me. I’m glad to share this moment with him.
Brenda beats me and says, “That’s the baby’s heartbeat.”
Ridge doesn’t look away from me as a blindingly massive smile erases any doubt or worry from his handsome face. “Wow. That’s a strong beat.”
I nod as a single tear, hot and happy, slides from the corner of my eye down to my ear.
Ridge softly wipes at the wet and presses a kiss to my temple. “That’s our baby.”
The growing ball of emotions clogging my throat only allows an, “Uh-huh,” from me.
Brenda clears her throat and resumes the exam. Every so often, she stops the wand, presses a button on the keyboard, and that’s followed by a click like a camera. Tiny lines tighten around Ridge’s eyes and his mouth presses into a thin line as he stares intently at the TV-like screen.
He leans over me, his free hand pointing at the screen. “Is that an arm? And the head.”
Indiscernible gray-and-black blobs fill the screen, but I think he’s right. That could be an arm and I can easily make out a head with a pea-sized nose.
“Yes.” Brenda points at the screen. “And this is a leg.” She pivots to face us both. “Do you want to know the baby’s sex?”
I say no at the same time he says yes. Ridge stares down at me. “You don’t want to know? Why not?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” My response is more defensive than I intend, and he arches a brow.
“It’s not that it matters to me—” Ridge starts to say, but Brenda interjects, as if sensing things could get heated or maybe because she’s done this so many times and figures it best for us to talk about this in private.
“You two can think about it and if you want to know, Doctor Anderson can tell you.” She turns back to the exam, and Ridge and I remain silent.
As much as I don’t want to be, I’m bothered that Ridge wants to know the baby’s gender. Why does he care? Is it about some stupid legacy and inheritance thing with the Kincaides?
“All right, we’re done.” Brenda cuts through my upsetting thoughts and hands me a few paper towels to wipe the gel off my stomach. “The washroom is just down the hall and Doctor Anderson should be in within a few minutes.”
