25. Peyton

25

The summer is fading quickly and before I know it, Noah will have to pack and return to Portland. I'll go with him, but not as a member of the Portland Pioneers. Giving them my resignation was easy and probably one of the best decisions, aside from marrying Noah, I've ever made. Our baby is due at the end of the year or early into next year and I'd miss the end of the season and potentially playoffs, where I would be needed the most. I did offer to freelance for them, since I'd be at most of the games, or they could send game film to me for the ones I don't make. As soon as word spread, offers from other teams came pouring in. I'm weighing all of them, just as I'm weighing myself now.

The number on the scale continues to go higher, which is good. I'm gaining healthy weight to support my expanding belly. One night, I went to bed with a somewhat flat stomach and woke the next day looking like I had put a small balloon under my shirt. Only, I hadn't. Our baby had grown or shifted or whatever it's called. As soon as Noah saw my bump, he had the camera out, taking pictures from every angle.

It's weird, up until now I haven't felt pregnant. The baby didn't move around enough for me to feel the flutters other mom's talk about experiencing and my little pouch was just that, little. I looked bloated most days, but now . . . now I get to stand in the mirror and cradle my belly.

We still haven't really told people outside our family and a handful of friends that we're expecting. Mostly because I want to get to the twenty-week mark or my first ultrasound. Technically, I still have another four weeks, but I managed to convince Dr. Ringman I need the ultrasound before we return to Portland for the football season.

Noah finds me standing in front of the mirror, rubbing my hand over my bump and then holding it. It's the most magnificent thing I have ever seen in my life. Knowing a life we created is in there, thriving, makes me feel like I can do anything in this world. I have no worries. Not about Noah and whatever decision he makes about his career. Not about whether or not I decide to be a consultant with the Pioneers.

He stands behind me, fitting perfectly against me. His hands hold my stomach as he looks at me through the mirror. "Are you ready for today?"

I nod. Today, we'll see our baby for the first time and learn if we're having a boy or girl. I'm both anxious and excited to finally reach this point in my pregnancy. I think because of the IVF and knowing right away, it feels like getting to this point has taken forever.

"Well, you should get dressed," he says. "I know how much you like looking at yourself in the mirror with no shirt on, but something tells me you don't want anyone else looking at you this way." Noah kisses the top of my head.

"It's so hot out but I want to try and hide my bump for a bit longer."

Noah heads into the closet and comes back with a dress. "What about this one?" He holds a long flowy dress in floral print by the hanger. "It doesn't look form fitting."

"No, we leave those to Elle." Everyone knows she's pregnant even though she won't confirm it. Each time she posts a picture on her social media, you can see her bump. She's not hiding it. This is one of those times I wish I were a bit more like her. Elle still finds a way to control the narrative, whereas I would cave and gush about the details.

"Are we posting today?" Noah asks as he takes the dress of the hanger and hands it to me.

"We can, but not the sex of the baby. I want the news to be a surprise to our family."

Noah nods. "They're all taking bets anyway. Paige says we're having a girl. Mack says girl. Dad says boy. Mom says she doesn't care, she just wants to hold the baby."

"My dad wants a girl and my mom a boy."

"What do you want?" he asks as he walks toward me.

I caress his cheek. "A healthy baby. I don't care if it's a boy or a girl. When this is over, I just want to hold our baby in my arms and tell him or her how much they are loved."

"Me, too." He kisses me quickly. "Come on, we gotta go."

Noah drives us to the doctor's office. I have the window down, the music playing, and I'm enjoying the nice weather. Noah presses a button on the console and the song changes. Our dads' voices come through the speakers. I roll my eyes.

"Seriously?"

"What?" he asks as if he doesn't know what he's done. "It's their greatest hits. It hasn't even been released yet."

"And you're what, giving them free promo as we drive down the Boulevard?"

Noah laughs and taps the steering wheel to the song playing. I can't help but move along to the beat and recite the words. They're not even my favorite band, and I still know all the words to their songs. He turns it up, likely to drown out my nasally sound, but I don't care. I sing louder.

By the time we reach the office, the twelve-track compilation has finished and we're both happily laughing at how silly we act sometimes.

While we're walking in, Noah says, "I'm going to call my parents and tell them to get to town so we can tell them all at once."

"Tell them to plan on tomorrow," I say as I text my mom and tell her. "This way we have one night with the news before we have to share it."

"And I can come up with the ultimate way to tell them. The whole we're pregnant reveal was pretty kick ass if I do say so myself."

"Yes, Noah. You totally slayed the reveal." I roll my eyes and step out of reach as he tries to grab me and rush toward the elevator.

"Don't run," he yells down the hall. "You'll give the baby a concussion."

My mouth drops open as he approaches. "You know that's not possible, right?"

He nods. "But it got you to stop running."

I roll my eyes. "You're ridiculous."

The elevator door opens, and we wait for the people to step out. One does a double take when they pass by Noah, but I pull him in, press the button and then jam my finger against the close button. Normally, I don't care except today.

Today, I want us to be expectant parents. I want my husband to be normal and to be treated as such.

In the office, I check in and then sit down. My bladder is full of the excess water I had to drink and I feel the need to squirm in my seat. My husband, though, stands and goes to the water fountain for a drink. And then another. Sometimes I want to berate him for acting like a child, but he doesn't do it on purpose.

Noah brings me a cup of water. I shake my head.

"I'm not thirsty," I tell him.

"Doctor said you should stay hydrated."

"Believe me, I am. I drank a bunch for this appointment. A full bladder is required for this ultrasound."

Noah nods as if he understands. He drinks the cup he brought me and takes it to the trash before coming back to sit next to me.

"I'm nervous."

"Me, too," I tell him. "But everything is good."

I lean back and tap my fingers against my growing stomach almost as if I'm playing the drums, just like my dad taught me to do when he first met my mom. I still remember how he sat me on his lap and let me beat the drums with his drumsticks. He didn't care if I did any damage. This was my outlet for the rage I felt after my father died. I can't wait for my dad to teach his grandchildren how to play the drums and write songs. It's my hope this child has either musical or athletic talent. I wouldn't mind having a basketball player in the house or a piano player. Noah and I agreed we won't pressure our child to do anything. Whatever they want to do, they can and when they want to quit, as long as they have a reason, we'll let them. Knowing how Liam was raised is something Noah and I don't want for our child.

When I see the nurse come out, I sit up, anticipating my turn only for her to call for another patient.

"We'll be next," Noah says.

"I know. The nerves have turned into anticipation. I'm excited."

He reaches for my hand. "I'm probably going to want to buy one of these machines."

I laugh, but I know he's serious. "I'd never get any work done nor would we ever leave the house."

"Nope. You'd be hooked up all day and night so we could see our little bean, growing and thriving."

"Peyton Westbury." The nurse calls out and I want to rejoice at the sound of my name.

Noah helps me stand and keeps his hand on the small of my back as we follow the nurse. We stop at the scale and then head into the room. "The tech will be in shortly. Please take everything off from the waist down and sit on the table. We'll be right back."

It's always a sprint when you have to undress and put a gown on or a lap covering. In my case, I should've worn a shirt. After taking my dress off, I slip into the gown and tie the top strings to keep the girls somewhat hidden.

Not that he needs to, but Noah helps me onto the table and covers my legs with the medical blanket. He barely sits when the door opens.

"Hi, Mom and Dad, I'm Baxter." He sits down on the stool and wheels toward me. "Before we start, are we finding out the sex of the baby?"

"Yes," Noah and I say together.

"Okay so no big gender reveal party? You want to know?" Baxter asks.

"Yes, we're not keeping it a secret," I tell him.

"Excellent. All right. How's the bladder?"

"Full."

"That's what I like to hear. You're already my favorite patient of the hour."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Noah look at his watch. He smirks. If I had to guess, the hour changed and we're Baxter's first patients since. Baxter's a funny guy.

He angles the computer so only he can see the screen and tells Noah to stand next to me. Baxter drops a blob of gel onto my stomach and then sets the wand on there. Instantly, the room fills with the sound of the baby's heartbeat.

"Best fucking sound in the world," Noah says to me as he presses the button on his phone. I have to agree.

"Do you want to record it, Dad?" Baxter asks.

"Already recording," Noah told him.

"I'm going to take some measurements and then we'll have a look," Baxter says.

I turn toward Noah and hold his hand while we listen to the whooshing sound play around us. I swear I could listen to it all day and night.

"All right, Mom and Dad, let's see what we're having."

Baxter turns the screen, giving Noah and I a chance to look as well. He sets the wand on my stomach again and the black screen turns a fuzzy white.

"Well, would you look at that?"

I'm looking and it takes me a minute to recognize anything.

"Is that?"

"Yes, it is," Baxter says as he presses a series of buttons. "I'm printing pictures now." Baxter presses the wand a bit harder into my skin.

"Uh, I'm going to pee if you do that."

Baxter laughs. "I'm trying to get your son or daughter to cooperate so we can see . . . ah yes, thank you baby." He presses another button and the screen freezes. I sit up on my elbow so I can get a better view. He brings the screen closer, showing us the details.

"If you can't see for yourself, let me know and I'll tell you."

"Holy shit," Noah says as he squeezes my hand. "Peyton, do you see this?"

I nod slowly as tears form. "I'm going to be a mom."