One More Chance

Grant

The next day, at the doctor’s office, Harlow lay on the examination table with her shirt pulled up, her bare stomach exposed for the ultrasound. It was still flat. You couldn’t tell there was anything inside. She looked normal. Well, as normal as a very anxious person can look. She had spent all morning cooking breakfast, even though she never cooked breakfast. Then she’d spent an hour trying to decide what to wear. I could tell she was nervous, but you would have thought we were going to be introduced to the baby and she wanted to make a good impression.

We were at the doctor’s office to hear the heartbeat. I had Googled the process and discovered that if we didn’t hear the heartbeat, that meant the baby hadn’t made it that far. Harlow hadn’t had any bleeding or cramping, but apparently, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have miscarried.

Miscarrying this baby would devastate her. The idea of seeing her brokenhearted wasn’t something I wanted, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear today. I just wanted Harlow to be OK. Safe. I needed her to be safe. And happy. I just wasn’t sure there was a way for me to have both.

Again, I was completely helpless. I hated this feeling.

“OK, are you ready?” the doctor asked, looking down at Harlow. Somehow he knew not to ask me, because he knew I wasn’t ready. If we heard a heartbeat and it was healthy, that meant this wasn’t over, that I had to continue living in fear of losing Harlow. But if we didn’t hear a heartbeat, the pain she would endure might be too much for her to bear.

“Yes,” Harlow said. The excitement and nervousness in her voice weren’t lost on the doctor. He smiled reassuringly. He did this all the time. He seemed positive, which was good. Or wasn’t. Hell, I didn’t know what was good anymore.

Then it happened. The sound that changed it all.

A rapid, steady thumping filled the room, and all I could do was stare down at Harlow’s stomach. Her hand reached out and grabbed mine tightly, and she let out a sob that startled me. I looked up at her, and she was smiling so damn big, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. The wonderment on her face said everything I was thinking. There was a life in there. One we had created. It was real.

“Sounds strong. That’s a very good sign,” the doctor said.

Harlow’s hand squeezed mine, and she laughed. The heartbeat sped up a second with her laughter, then went back to normal. Had the baby heard her laugh?

“I think this is a good start. I feel positive about this. You look good. I’ve studied your records, and as you know, we had to change up your medications. Some things you can’t take while pregnant, but I feel sure this will work out just fine. You call me if you feel funny at any time. Don’t wait. Call me.” He turned his focus on me. “She needs to call me immediately,” he repeated.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. Not something he had to demand of me. The second I thought she was having problems, I’d call the ambulance, then I’d call him.

He pulled the monitoring equipment up, and I pulled Harlow’s shirt down and helped her sit up, but not before kissing her nose. I had to kiss her somewhere. She held on to my arm for a moment, that huge, brilliant smile still in place. “We heard it,” she said, as if to reassure me that we had heard the baby’s heartbeat.

“Yeah, we did,” I said.

How was I supposed to not want that? How could I choose anyone or anything over Harlow? I was a mess. A confused mess. I loved that sound because it was us. Our baby. It also made her so damn happy. Was I being selfish not to want her to have this because I might lose her?

The doctor told Harlow some more things about her new medications and said that she should continue with moderate exercise as long as she rested often. She assured him that she would, and then we were escorted out through the back entrance again.

When we were in the truck and headed back to Rosemary Beach, Harlow scooted close to me. “That was amazing,” she said softly.

I didn’t want to agree with her, but she was right. It was. “Yeah, I know.”

She wrapped her arms around one of mine and laid her head on my shoulder. “In about two more months, we’ll find out if it’s a boy or a girl, and we’ll be able to see it move.”

A boy or a girl . . . see it move . . . I wanted those things. I wanted them with her. Only her. But I couldn’t forget the risk. Was this the way it was supposed to be in life? You couldn’t have every dream, but you could have part of it? You could only have a taste of something but never the full thing?

My precious baby,

Today we heard your heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. I’ve never felt so much joy. Until that moment, I didn’t know that much joy was possible for one human to process. My heart was bursting with love. Knowing that you were in there. That you were safe.

Your daddy said that when I laughed, your heart rate sped up as if you heard me. I hope you did. You make me so very happy. You aren’t even here, and my life is so full.

I’ve never seen your father quite so moved, either. He didn’t say much, but the wonder in his eyes as the sound of your beating heart filled the room was something I will never forget. I will carry it with me forever. You became real to him today.

Don’t get me wrong. He loved you before. He just didn’t know how much until he heard you. He doesn’t have the connection we have yet, because you’re safely tucked inside of me. You will bond with him soon enough, though. You will be the reason he laughs and finds joy in life. I just hope I get to see it.