Page 90 of Unexpecting

″She scares everyone.” The technician smiled, and I saw that her name tag read Jeannie.

″That makes me feel better. I think—”

″Ah, now, here’s your wee one. Wee ones, I guess?” All talk of the scary Dr. Morrissey was forgotten as the computer screen was filled with squiggles and shapes I assumed were my babies. Just like when Dr. Morrissey did the ultrasound in her office (which, based on the equipment Jeannie was using, was very low-tech), I couldn’t make out heads or tails of them. I hoped they didn’t have tails!

″Three of them in there,” she mused. “Hope you’ll have some help?”

″I do,” I said, thinking fondly of J.B.

For the next little bit, I was not sure what Jeannie was doing. She ran the roller-ball thing over my stomach, back and forth, all the while muttering things I couldn’t make out. I didn’t want to ask her what the matter was since she appeared somewhat annoyed and I was afraid it wassomething I’d done. So I lay and watched the screen and the shapes moving crazily across it. It made me dizzy to watch, but I hung on, trying to catch sight of something I might recognize as my babies.

Finally, Jeannie stopped, and the screen went blank. “Lovie, I can’t get the measurements I need. The wee ones are wiggling all about. I’m afraid I’m going to have to do an internal to get what I want.”

″An internal what? Oh! Oh.” I watched as Jeannie pulled out this two-foot (okay, maybe it was not two feet, but it was long) thing that looked a bit like a thermometer. “Um, that’s going where?” I asked as she unrolled a condom onto the skinny head of it.

So that was how I underwent my first (and hopefully last) transvaginal ultrasound. It didn’t hurt. I actually didn’t feel much; it was just the knowledge something was sticking out of me. At least Jeanie was quite pleased with the results and made sort of a happy clucking noise like a chicken as she murmured into a microphone.

By the time she was done getting all her measurements (whatever measurements they were), I had quite the headache from watching the computer screen. But I still couldn’t tell what part of the babies were which.

″Now, lovie, would you like your young man to have a boo?” Jeannie beamed at me. I nodded, not wanting to tell her again that he’s not my young man. “I’ll just go grab him. What’s his name?”

″J.B. Bergen.”

″Be right back.” I liked the way she rolled her r’s. I lay there on the narrow table with my shirt hiked up and one leg kicked free of my pants. There was a thin sheet covering everything south of my pubes, which was a good thing since I didn’t make an appealing picture with the ultrasound camera-thingy sticking out of my who-who.

But that, of course, was how J.B. found me.

He looked at my face first off, with a smile, and actually looked pretty excited. Jeannie bustled in after him, and with a very businesslike manner, pulled up the edge of the sheet and adjusted the camera between my legs. J.B. watched her with confusion, and suddenly, as if he realized what he was seeing, his eyes went wide and he looked at me with something akin to horror. I couldn’t help but laugh, even though that was not the funniest part of the whole thing.

″I thought—” he stuttered.

″I’ll explain later,” I told him.

The funny part, although I doubted it was funny to J.B., was how about ten minutes of both of us staring fixated on the computer screen as Jeannie pointed everything out to us, J.B. started to sway. I didn’t notice right away. Like I said, watching the movements of the babies on such a small screen was making me dizzy, and I was lying down. But J.B. was standing, in the very small and now very hot curtained cubicle.

″Sit yourself down, laddie,” Jeannie said suddenly. With a firm hand, she pushed J.B. onto a stool in the corner. “Head between your legs.”

″I don’t…” I’d never seen J.B. so white. Even his lips were pale.

″Head down,” Jeannie ordered, and J.B. complied.

″It’s so hot in here.”

″It’s for the bare bellies.” She winked at me. “Happens all the time.”

″Really?” J.B. had his eyes closed as his head was hanging limply between his legs.

″Not really,” Jeannie admitted, with another wink at me.

″Fuck.” He said it quietly and I didn’t think she heard it, but I could see Jeannie smiling as she pointed out one of the babies’ legs. After a couple of minutes with his head down and some deep breaths, J.B. finally hauled himself to his feet again.

″All better?” Jeannie asked solicitously. J.B. made a sort of growling sound, and this time Jeannie tried to hide her smile. “All done! Would you like a video and a picture of your wee ones?”

When we got home, J.B. stuck the picture on the refrigerator with a magnet that was advertising twenty-four-hour beer delivery. Cooper found the whole thing hilarious, but Emma got misty-eyed when she saw the picture.

Chapter Forty

“Deciding on a baby’s name should be a quick and instinctive process and should only be done once the child is born.”

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