Elle and James have had a whirlwind last few years! Now they have to begin a new adventure, much different then the one that brought them together that fateful day so many months ago!
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December 7, 2023 Elle's POV
"Elle Bridgewater," I check in at the front desk, holding tight onto James's hand as he stands beside me for support.
"Take a seat and the doctor will be right with you," the nurse smiles at me.
"Thank you," I nod and head to two chairs in the empty waiting room.
"Are you nervous?" James asks, sitting beside me.
"A little," I admit, taking in all of the pictures of cute little babies and their families all over the small room.
"Me too," James sighs, squeezing my hand.
"We can do anything together," I give him a smile which he returns, easing some of my nerves. We drift into comfortable silence as we wait patiently for the doctor to come get us.
"Mrs. Bridgewater," an older woman smiles at me from behind a propped open door. I recognize her, Dr. Thompson, as one of Darby's friends who attended the wedding just 5 months ago. Perks, or maybe it's a bad thing, of being in a small town is that everyone knows everyone.
"Hi," I say as I stand and walk over toward her, James's hand still in mine as he follows closely.
"How are you doing," she closes the door behind us and starts walking down the hall, stopping at a scale and stadiometer.
"Good and a little nervous," I respond with a forced smile.
"Completely normal," she chuckles. I kick off my shoes and step onto the scale. After she takes my weight and height, she leads us to a small room that's painted pale pink. "Alright, you're here to confirm a pregnancy?" She looks up from her clipboard at me as I take a seat on the bed.
"Yeah," I nod.
"And James is the lucky dad to be," she smiles at him.
"Damn right," he nods, causing the doctor to laugh. We go through the boring questions that you do at every doctor's appointment before getting to the fun part. The part where we see Baby Star.
"Alright, push your shirt up. It's time to see if we have a little baby in there," the doctor smiles at us. "The gel might be a little cold." James scoots his chair over to the head of the bed, grabbing my hand and squeezing, as Dr. Thompson squirts the gel onto my stomach and moves the wand around. "Ah, yes. There is a little baby in there," she spins the monitor towards us. "Right there," she points to a tiny gray spot inside of a larger black area.
"So small," James whispers. I turn to find him watching the screen intensely. Tears form in my eyes as I watch him study our little baby on the screen.
"Do you know or have a guess of how far along you are?" Dr. Thompson asks.
"No," I shake my head, turning to look at her.
"It doesn't look like you are too far along. I'll give you a close estimate of the conception date and gestational age in just a moment," she pauses the screen so it's frozen on the image, before she removes the wand, hands me a paper towel to clean up with, and exits the room.
"We are really having a baby," James smiles up at me in disbelief as I wipe the gel off and pull down my shirt again, tossing the paper towel in the trash.
"Baby Star," I sigh happily looking at the monitor. I have a baby growing inside of me. A baby that James put there. It's all so surreal.
"Alright," the doctor breezes through the door. "The pregnancy is about 6 weeks along. Meaning the conception date falls right around," she looks down at her clipboard, "October 26."
Me and James nod along to everything she says, absorbing it and storing it away.
"Do you plan on telling anyone soon?" She asks.
"No," James and I say in unison.
"Alright then. My lips are sealed," she makes a zipping motion across her mouth and tosses away the imaginary key.
"Thank you," I chuckle.
"Don't mention it," she waves me off with the flick of her hand. "All of your numbers look good and healthy right now, so I think that's about all we have to go over. I won't see you again until after Christmas and New Years Eve. You'll be around 11 weeks and almost into your second trimester. I don't think I need to tell you but just in case, no alcohol at all. No cold lunch meat either," she says. "Limit the coffee to one cup a day. Preferably decaf. And no hot baths."
"Got it," I smile.
"I've already scheduled your next appointment for January 11th and here you go," she hands me pictures of the printed sonogram. "Congratulations and see you next year," she winks before leaving the room.
"I'll hold onto those," James grabs the sonogram from me and puts it in his wallet. "I want to be able to look at our baby at any moment in time," he explains. My heart melts into a puddle on the floor as I listen to his words.
