Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
The thought is almost laughable, but I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll puke.
Rachel just lays there like this is nothing. She even has her other hand propped under her head to raise it, so she can watch what’s going on.
Dr. Anchors has already run the ultrasound wand over her lower belly and located the baby’s position. He did that while the local anesthetic he gave her was working its mojo. Now he gets all his implements ready, which is basically just a big fucking needle he’s going to stick in my woman.
The doctor has laid a blue sterile paper over Rachel’s lap, which is where he puts the needle. I watch uneasily as he rubs a gauze soaked with a reddish-brown antiseptic all over her belly. She’s at fifteen weeks now and according to the internet, the baby is as big as a navel orange. I read that last night after Rachel went to sleep. It seems awful big, which means there’s not a lot of room in there for the doctor to make a mistake.
Just thinking about that again causes my anxiety to flare. I want to scoop Rachel off the table and run.
I get another squeeze of her hand in mine, and my gaze travels to meet hers. She’s staring at me knowingly, but she doesn’t make a big deal out of my fears. I give her hand a squeeze back, but that’s not enough. Bending over, I put my lips to her forehead and whisper, “Brave girl.”
“Okay,” Dr. Anchors says. I pull back from Rachel to watch. I don’t want to, but I’m going to because it’s the least I can do. “Let’s get started.”
A nurse moves in close with the top of the syringe that will draw the fluid out. It’s oddly shaped—a rectangular-looking unit with a pull lever and cylindrical container in the middle for the fluid. Dr. Anchors puts the ultrasound wand back to Rachel’s belly and quickly locates the baby. My breath catches much as it did the first time, and I sneak a quick peek at Rachel. She’s staring at the ultrasound screen with large eyes full of wonder.
Dr. Anchors holds the wand in place and carefully takes the needle in his other hand. He deftly pierces her abdomen, pushing it down through her uterine wall. My head swims for a moment, but then I blink it away. The nurse moves in, attaches the thing she’s holding in her hand to the cap on the needle, and pulls the lever. The cylindrical container fills with a golden yellow liquid. She pulls on it slowly but steadily, and I get a little dizzy again at the amount of fluid coming out.
My eyes cut to the screen and I have to swallow hard when I see the needle hovering so very close to the baby. My hand reflexively bears down on Rachel, but I don’t care at this point. I assume she’ll pay me back during childbirth.
When the tube is filled, the nurse disconnects from the needle, and then Dr. Anchors is pulling it free. He moves the wand a little, checks the baby again, and then pronounces, “All done.”
“That wasn’t so bad,” Rachel says lightly.
Dr. Anchors chuckles. “I find that the women usually have an easier time than the men with that procedure.”
“Not this man,” I say in a deep, confident voice with my chest puffed out slightly. Thank God, the nausea has passed.
“While most of the results will take a few weeks, we’ll have the gender back in a few days,” Dr. Anchors says as he pulls off his gloves. A nurse dries Rachel from the antiseptic that had dripped down her sides, and when she’s done, I help her sit up on the table.
“It’s a boy,” Rachel says as she comes up to the sitting position.
“Oh, yeah?” Dr. Anchors says with interest. He pushes up from the stool and goes to the sink to wash his hands. “I believe Bodie declared it was a girl on the last visit.”
“It’s definitely a boy,” she says confidently. “I just know it.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” I say somewhat accusingly. Many of our discussions focus around the baby and the pregnancy, and my little proclamation about it being a girl was just a joke. I have no clue whatsoever.
“I didn’t know it until just a little bit ago, when we saw him on the screen. And then I just knew.”
“Huh,” I say in contemplation. She’s so confident about it, I sort of believe her. I could totally handle a son. But then a thought hits me. “I’ve got a weird request, though.”
“What’s that?” Rachel asks.
“I don’t want to know the sex just yet.” Rachel doesn’t even look surprised. In fact, she has sort of a knowing smirk on her face. “I mean… I don’t want to find out by Dr. Anchors calling us in two days. It’s kind of—”