Her arms wrapped around my neck. “I love you, Joshua. So much.”
I pulled her close and kissed her, and her response had my body humming with desire. I needed to be closer to her. I needed her.
Tenderly, I ran my hands over her curves, loving the shiver I felt run through her. I pulled her closer, running my lips up her neck to her ear. “I’m aching again, Rabbit. Do you think you can help me with that?” I whispered as I arched up into her warmth. Her answering whimper made me smile. I looked into her eyes. “I want you, pretty girl. But not in the tub. I’m taking you upstairs with me and I’m going to love you. Until you cry out my name and feel how much love I have for you.”
“Yes, show me. Please, Joshua,” she whispered. “Now, please.”
I pulled her close. I needed to take her upstairs.
“Arms, Rabbit.”
The day of our next appointment, we left early for the hospital. Each step was slow and, at times, painful, but together we did it. I had to pull over a few times to catch my breath, but throughout the entire trip, Rabbit held my hand firmly over her stomach, and encouraged me. She talked about the baby, what she had planned for the nursery, and all the things we were going to do as a family, sometimes even getting me to laugh at her outlandish ideas. By the time we arrived at the hospital, I was relaxed enough for the next step: entering the building. I was grateful to see Trina at the entrance and it made it easier to leave the truck and take Rabbit into her appointment. I was excited to see the ultrasound of BG myself this time. From what I read in the books I had had purchased, we might be able to hear the heartbeat. Concentrating on the goal at hand helped me make it through the busy hallways to the maternity wing, which was quieter and had less people around.
While we were in the waiting room, Daniel came by to say hello and see how Rabbit was doing. He seemed pleased at her appearance and told us he would be in his office if we wanted to drop by afterward with the latest pictures.
Inside the room, I waited in the office until Rabbit was examined and it was time for the ultrasound. I stood beside her, feeling excited, and watched the screen as the wand slowly rolled over her stomach. The sound of blood flow was coming from the monitor, but so far, I couldn’t hear a heartbeat. Our baby doctor, Dr. Sue, as she insisted on being called, was doing the ultrasound herself. She was a warm, pleasant person who seemed to connect well with Lizzy and had answered my entire list of questions patiently. She reached up and tapped the monitor.
“There’s your little one,” she said, smiling. I looked at the small odd-shaped blip on the screen, smiling along with her. But then I saw her pause and frown briefly before pulling the wand back and forth over Rabbit’s stomach. I heard her mutter ‘oh my’ quietly and look at Rabbit, who was staring at the screen, her eyes wide. I looked at the monitor again, not sure what I was seeing. “Is something wrong?” I asked tensely, my hand automatically reaching for Rabbit’s.
“No, Joshua. Everything looks fine,” Dr. Sue assured me with a smile.
Something was off. I could tell by her voice and the way Rabbit was reacting. I began to panic. “What? What is it?”
It was as if I hadn’t spoken. Like I wasn’t even in the room. Dr. Sue looked at Rabbit. Rabbit’s voice was full of tears when she spoke. “Really?” Dr. Sue smiled and nodded at her, and then put a finger to her lips. “Listen,” she said.
A different noise filled the room and I realized I could hear the soft thump of my child’s heartbeat. I listened to the strange rhythm. Should it be beating so quickly? I knew the heartbeat would be fast, I'd read about that, but was it supposed to be this fast? There was barely a break between beats.
“Why does it sound so fast?” I asked loudly, now in a full blown panic. Something was wrong that I wasn’t seeing and nobody was telling me anything. “What’s happening?”
Rabbit squeezed my hand and pointed to the screen. “Nothing’s wrong. Look, Joshua. Look closely.”
I stared at the screen through the tears that had sprung up in my eyes. I couldn’t see anything that made any sense. Intently, I listened to the heartbeat that seemed to fill the room. My head snapped up and I met Rabbit’s eyes. There was more than one. What I thought was a rapid sound was two separate beats.
My eyes widened. I stepped forward, closer to the monitor, and traced the blip. There were two tiny blips, moulded closely together. Turning back to Rabbit, I saw she was crying too. Dr. Sue stood up as I wordlessly stared at Rabbit. The room seemed to start pulsating around me and I struggled to focus on Rabbit’s face. I could feel my body beginning to sway and I felt very strange, as if I was losing control of my limbs. I heard Dr. Sue talking, but her voice seemed distant and fuzzy.