Chapter 12

‘There. It’s all looking good.’

The gel on my tummy was still chilly, but I forgot all about it as the screen flickered and changed, showing Jason and I our child inside me.

‘Baby’s getting in position,’ the ultrasound technician told us, ‘getting ready for delivery.’

‘Locked and loaded,’ Jason whispered, in a voice as if an epic battle were about to ensue, his eyes narrowed intently at the screen. He was holding my hand, but let go and went to the screen and pointed. ‘See! I tell you, Bryna, we’ve got ourselves a junior here! A bouncing baby boy!’ He was pointing to what he assumed was a penis. I shook my head at him, laughing.

We had decided without any question we did not want to know what our child was until it was delivered, but that didn’t stop Jason guessing, hoping, and theorizing one bit.

The ultrasound technician watched us, her eyes glittering, amused, but she didn’t say anything. I knew she could tell for sure what our child was.

‘Well, you’re about ready,’ she said, and the image disappeared. ‘It probably won’t be too long now, but I’m sure your—’ she checked the notes in my file briefly ‘—your midwife has already told you all of that.’ She smiled as I rearranged myself and stood. ‘You’re good to go, then.’

‘Thanks.’

Jason scooped up our coats, and we nodded our thanks to the technician before we left.

I waddled, these days, and often with a hand at the small of my back. I was big, elephantine, and having trouble sleeping at all. Junior—whether junior was a he or a she—was bent on moving at least one of my kidneys and quite possibly my liver in order to get more comfortable. I was not unhappy, but I certainly was tired.

‘Let’s go home,’ I said to Jason. He’d taken my hand again, and I looked up at him with a tired smile. ‘Why don’t we watch something for a while ... have some beans on toast and go to bed early? I’m tired, love.’

‘Let’s,’ he agreed. ‘Dr. Quinn?’

‘Definitely,’ I sighed, happily, as Jason put his arm around me and I leant my head against his shoulder. ‘She’d better get onto marrying Sully. They’re meant to be together.’

I fell asleep halfway through our second episode. Jason gently woke me and brought me to bed, helping me undress. It was rare I slept soundly through the night, these days, and he wanted to disturb me the least he possibly could to help me.

I fell into bed, and thankfully, DID fall asleep again. Until about four in the morning, that is. I suddenly found myself very wakeful around then. Jason rolled towards me, grunting in his sleep. He reached an arm out, unconsciously, for me, and pushed his face into my shoulder with a happy sigh. I tried very, very hard not to laugh, feeling my love strong for him even over the hilarity of his sweet actions.

He was going to be a wonderful dad, that much had been clear since we’d first found out about my pregnancy. It had been solidified over the past few months, and I found myself without any trepidation whatsoever about how our relationship might change when parenthood was thrust upon us. We were steadfast; solid. Perhaps it was because we were siblings as well as lovers—a familial bond can be one of the strongest, ever. You can choose your friends, but you know you’ll always be stuck with your family—and so, you learn to tolerate them, since you’ll have to put up with your family for time immemorial.

Maybe it was that. I can’t say. But whatever we had, and whatever caused it—it was as if we were connected on a higher plane. Communication without speaking. A fluid bond. Like we were ... twins, or something.

The baby didn’t move around so much anymore. There wasn’t room to. It was okay, though, because soon enough it would be moving around outside me. We had been told we had two weeks, at most, which coincided quite well with the alleged ‘due date.’ Jason had gotten his wish, and the snow had blessedly begun to melt, leaving the roads slushy and muddy and our back garden flooded with water during the day and a small ice rink at night. If the weather persisted, we would soon be in full spring. It was already warm enough, on some occasions, to sit outside on the front step about midday with a cup of something warm and enjoy the marvellous air. Although it was still very fresh, the air felt practically tropical compared to the unforgiving, frigid hand of Old Man Winter.

Although we had wanted to, we had not made love much of late. It was a little awkward—difficult, and I was often very tired or cramped, or Jason was out on the zamboni at the local rink too late, or some such thing, so there hadn’t been much occasion.