Page 46 of Can't Win 'Em All
“That’s the baby’s heartbeat,” I replied.
“Why is it so fast?” Rex’s alarm was palpable. “What’s wrong?”
Miles was calm when regarding him. “Nothing is wrong. A baby’s fetal heartbeat is normally between 120 to 160 beats per minute. It’s much faster than that of an adult.”
“Oh.” Rex let out a breath. “Then we’re good, right?”
“Things look very good,” Miles agreed. He pursed his lips as he regarded the image on the screen. “Do you want to know the sex of your baby? I can tell, if you’re interested. If you don’t want to know, I can make a notation in your file.”
I looked at the screen, then back up at Rex.
“It’s up to you,” he said in a low voice. He seemed to be fascinated by the image on the screen. “I’m fine with either. Although … screw it. I want to know.” He sent me a pleading look.
I grinned. “I want to know too. It will make my lists so much easier.”
“You’re having a girl,” Miles said. “She looks nice and healthy. Everything looks to be right on schedule.”
I exhaled heavily. A girl. Knowing that somehow made it more real, although why that would be was hard to ascertain. “We’re having a girl.”
“I’m going to be a girl dad,” Rex mused. His face was screwed up in concentration. “She’s not dating until she’s thirty. I hope you know that.”
“Ah, and we’re back to that Neanderthal thing you like to do.” I shook my head. “You’re going to have to get over that.”
“My daughter is not dating until she’s thirty.” Rex was firm. “Boys are predators. I know because I’m a boy.”
“Is that what happened? Did you prey on me?”
“No, you preyed on me. I wanted to go home early like a good boy that night.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “You really are an idiot sometimes.” I said it with more affection than I knew I felt and went back to staring at the image on the screen. “So, we’re good?” I asked.
“Yes.” Miles froze the screen. “I’ll print out a few images so you guys can show your families. Everything looks great, though.”
I nodded. That was a relief. I didn’t even realize I had anxiety about it until he said everything was fine. “What about kicking?” I asked as he wiped the gel from my stomach. “Shouldn’t that be starting soon? I read that you should start feeling the kicks between sixteen and twenty-four weeks.”
Miles studied me as he sat back on his stool. “You’re doing a lot of reading, aren’t you?”
There was no judgement in his tone and yet I was annoyed all the same. “There’s a reason there are so many pregnancy books. People have questions.”
“I’m not giving you a hard time about it.”
“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” I grumbled.
“I’m just suggesting that maybe you’re reading too many books. It’s okay to read, and if you have questions, you should ask them. There is such a thing as being over prepared, however.”
Not in my world. “Um … I want to be able to plan for every contingency.”
“You can’t plan for every contingency, though.” Miles was matter of fact. “You’re having a baby. They kind of do their own thing. It’s good to have knowledge so you’re not afraid, but if you plan everything by what you read, then if something doesn’t happen on your exact timetable, you’re going to drive yourself crazy. The last thing we want is an anxious mother because that can make for an anxious baby.”
I pouted as I took in his words.
“I’ll try to keep her calm,” Rex promised. “She does do well if she has a list, though. It makes her happy. I don’t think you should try to take the lists from her.”
“I’m not trying to take the lists from her,” Miles assured him. “I just want her to take a breath.” He stared directly into my eyes. “You don’t have to plan out every minute of every day. If you think you’re going to be able to do that—say, you decide the baby needs to sleep from ten o’clock to noon or something—you’re going to drive yourself crazy when things don’t happen at the exact right time.”
I could see where he was coming from. I didn’t like it, but I could see it. “Fine.” I let loose a sigh. “I get it. I’ll try not to be so rigid.”
Miles smiled. “You’re just saying that to placate me, aren’t you?”
