"No. Just normal morning sickness and fatigue."
"Good. That's all within normal range. Now, let's see this baby."
She has me lie back, arranging the paper drape, squirting cold gel on my abdomen. Kade stands beside the table, his hand finding mine again as the ultrasound wand presses against my skin.
The screen flickers to life, showing grainy black and white images that mean nothing to me initially.
Then Dr. Rivera adjusts, and suddenly there's a shape.
A tiny, bean-shaped form with a rapidly flickering light at its center.
"There's your baby." Dr. Rivera's voice is warm. "And there's the heartbeat. Let me get the sound."
She presses a button, and suddenly the room fills with a rapid whooshing sound—thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump.
My baby's heartbeat.
Strong. Fast. Perfect.
"Oh
