Midafternoon
my computer starts chiming, waking me from a nap with Ben’s telltale ringtone. His
calls have been much more frequent and I can count on them every couple of
days, usually pretty early in the morning my time. With that consistency, I’ve
found it easier to establish a routine for myself and have much less anxiety
about leaving the house and missing a call. An afternoon call, when I just
talked to him yesterday has me immediately worrying that something has gone
wrong. “Ben, is everything okay? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Yeah,
it’s late here but I wanted to call and find out how the appointment went
today.” Duh! Of course he’d want to know. I’m 16 weeks pregnant now and had my
mid-pregnancy ultrasound to measure fetal development.
Though
Ben is supposed to be back before my due date, Josephine has agreed to go to
all my appointments with me and be my labor coach should his flight get
delayed. Of course, asking Josephine has its own set of concerns, mainly that
she is pregnant herself and we’re due close to the same time.
“Everything
went fine. I even got a video to show you.” As I wait for the video to load (it
seems to be taking forever!) Ben asks to see my belly. I send him a picture
once a week or so, monitoring the progress of my bump. I know he enjoys feeling
like he is “part” of this pregnancy even though he hates missing it. I keep
reminding him that, in the long run, it’s better for him to be gone now and
have time when the baby is born rather than the other way around. I hoist
myself from the bed and hurry to the bathroom to snap the picture.
When I sit back down, the video has
finished loading to the computer. I press play and find the screen sharing
option. Though I had seen it firsthand, when our baby’s picture pops into view,
I’m still in awe. The technician had also recorded the fetal heartbeat and,
just then, the whooshing sound fills our speakers. “Aww, are you crying?” I
notice the light sparkling in the corner of his eyes.
“My
brain may be leaking just a little,” he admits with a huge smile. I understand.
When I heard the sound earlier today, my hormones had gone into overdrive and I
burst into tears in the exam room. It’s amazing and a miracle and so emotional
and, really, I have no words to describe how much love I have for this baby and
what hearing its heartbeat for the first time means to me.
His
computer pings, announces a new email and I hear his mouse clicks as he checks
it. “You look beautiful, as always. Can you send me an email of the video too?”
“Gonna
share it with your friends?”
“Hell
yeah! I’m a proud papa! I’m going to try to get back to sleep now though. We’ve
got a long day tomorrow. I may not be able to call again for another week or
so. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me okay?”
I
immediately start to panic but force a smile out. “Okay. Be safe. I love you.”