Invisible String

3

Travis had left before sunrise, kissing my forehead in the dark and whispering, “Good luck today, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

I’d just nodded, too sleepy to speak but too anxious to fall back asleep once he was gone.

By mid-morning, the Kelces had taken over the house — Jason in full snack-mode in the kitchen, the older girls sprawled across the floor with markers and coloring books, and Kylie juggling Finnley on her hip while keeping an eye on Elliott and Bennett arguing over which princess got which crown.

“Ready to go?” Kylie asked, shifting Finnley into the car seat. “She’s already fed and changed. She’ll pass out before we hit the freeway.”

I grabbed my bag and nodded, heart racing a little too fast. “Yeah.”

Jason kissed Kylie quickly. “Tell Tay she’s got this. We’ll hold down the fort.”

“Tell your uncle to win,” I said to Wyatt, who gave me a dramatic salute.

Kylie laughed as we headed out the door. The drive wasn’t long, but I kept fidgeting in the passenger seat, twisting my rings, tapping my foot. Kylie didn’t comment—she just reached over and held my hand.

By the time we got to the clinic, Finnley was out cold in her car seat, her little head bobbing with each bump in the parking lot. I carried her in while Kylie handled check-in, grateful for something small and warm in my arms.

In the room, I changed into the paper gown, laying back on the table while the cold of the stirrups made me flinch.

Kylie sat beside me, Finnley now nestled peacefully against my stomach, her soft breaths rising and falling in rhythm with my own.

“You okay?” she asked gently, wrapping her fingers around mine.

“Getting there,” I whispered. “Travis hates missing these.”

“He’s here,” she said softly, squeezing my hand. “He’s just yelling at a ref instead of a nurse today.”

I laughed quietly, wiping under my eyes before the tears could fully fall. The nurse came in, kind and efficient, going over the procedure for the scan, measuring follicle growth, timing for the next shot, and potential retrieval. It was all technical, but it never felt routine.

Especially not today.

Kylie kept her grip tight on my hand while the doctor worked. Finnley shifted a little in her sleep, the weight of her grounding me more than I expected. A living, breathing reminder of what we were fighting so hard for.

“Good girl,” Kylie whispered, brushing Finnley’s back as the monitor beeped in the background.

After the appointment, I changed slowly, my body sore in ways I couldn’t quite name. I came out to find Kylie still holding Finn, bouncing gently, like she'd been doing it for hours.

“C’mon,” she said with a soft smile. “Let’s go home. Jason says Bennett tried to use peanut butter as shampoo. Your house might not exist anymore.”

I laughed, more out of exhaustion than anything else, and slid into the passenger seat again. As she backed out of the lot, she looked at me sideways.

“You were brave today.”

“No,” I said. “I was terrified.”

“You can be both.”

I looked down at Finnley’s sleepy little face, then out the window, my heart heavy and full all at once.

“Maybe one day,” I whispered, “my baby will sit on my stomach like that.”

Kylie didn’t say anything. Just reached for my hand again. And held on.