Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Babies? As in more than one?
Shit, no wonder the guy looks terrified.
“Me neither.” The woman smiles, rubbing her belly, which is so large I’m surprised she doesn’t topple over from the weight of it.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She laughs while the guy looks about ready to pass out.
Flexing my hand, I step into the room Harlow brings us to and half listen as she tells Franny it will just be a few minutes and to make herself comfortable. As Franny takes a seat on the side of the exam table, I look around. There are framed photos of babies on the walls and posters filled with information. So much information.
“Are you doing okay?” Franny asks, and I focus on her. “You look like you might pass out.”
“Do you have twins in your family?”
“No.” She laughs. “Do you?”
“I don’t know.” I scrub my fingers through my hair as she studies me. “I went into foster care when I was young. I don’t know much about either of my parents' families.”
“You—,” she starts, but there’s a knock on the door before it’s opened, cutting off whatever she was about to say.
Not that she needs to say anything. It’s obvious from the look on her face that she feels sorry for me. She shouldn’t. I was better off in foster care.
“Francisca.” A guy who doesn’t look much older than me steps into the room with Harlow right behind him.
“Hi, Dr. Bride.” She smiles as he turns to me, holding out his hand.
“Are you Dad?”
Shit, I’m going to puke.
“Yeah.” I take his hand and see Franny jerk in surprise. Hell, I surprised myself with the answer that came so easily.
“Congrats, man.” He lets my hand go and focuses on Franny. “Harlow told me that you’ve been having headaches.” He walks toward her.
“Yeah, pretty much every day.”
“Every day? Is that even normal?” I ask.
Dr. Bride looks over at me. “It can be.” He focuses on Franny, then. “Have you been drinking enough water?”
“Probably not.” She rubs her lips together. “I’ve been really nauseous most days, so I hate eating or drinking anything because I don’t want to get sick.”
“But you are eating, right?”
“I try,” she tells him, and he gives her a look filled with concern.
“You need to be eating small meals more often and drinking lots of water. I know it’s not easy, but that should help with the headaches. I’ll also write you a prescription for something that will help with the nausea if it’s that bad.”
“Thank you.”
“We want you and the baby to both be healthy and happy.” He looks between the two of us. “Now, are you ready to see your baby?”
Her eyes come to me quickly before going back to him.
“Yeah,” she whispers. I hate the fear I hear in her voice, but knowing that she is just as scared as I am makes me feel a little less alone.
After instructing her on what he’s going to do, she lies back on the table, and Harlow covers her with a blanket and helps adjust her pants before she walks over to turn out the light.
“Come on over, Dad,” Dr. Bride says, so I walk around the table to stand next to Franny’s head as he squirts some clear liquid on her stomach. With my eyes on the screen of the ultrasound machine, I try to figure out what I’m looking at as he moves the wand around on Franny’s still-flat belly.
After a moment, he turns a nob on the machine, and a soft swishing noise fills the room.
“Is that the heartbeat?” Franny asks softly.
“It is.” He smiles at her.
“Wow.” She whispers reaching for my hand.
“And there’s your baby,” he says, clicking away and drawing lines on the screen. I must be blind. I don’t see anything but gray and black. But then a white blur moves, and it’s like the image finally comes into focus, and I can make out a head, what looks like a round stomach, and even a leg. My heart picks up speed while Franny’s hold on my hand tightens.
I tip my chin down to look at her and she turns her head to look at me with tears filling her eyes.
I have no idea how this is all going to play out or what the future holds for us, but for the rest of our lives, we will be connected through our child. The reality of that is terrifying, but what is even scarier is the overwhelming sense of protectiveness I feel when it comes to her. It’s something I felt the first night we met; I just didn’t recognize it for what it was back then.
Drawing in a ragged breath, I look back at the screen and try to focus on Dr. Bride as he tells us about the baby and what to expect over the next few months. It’s a lot of information—more than I can process right now. Not with my whole world suddenly off-kilter.