“I hope she’s as beautiful as her mother.”

“I just care that he or she is healthy.”

Parker looks at me strangely.

“I used to laugh when expectant parents said that. I mean, what parent wouldn’t hope for that? Everyone says it, but now … it has so much more meaning to me.”

“I want that too, babe.”

Suddenly, everything my parents and Genna ever did for me growing up and going through treatment makes complete sense, including my mom’s constant worry and Genna’s hovering when I lived with her briefly. I get it. It never ends.

“I’ll do everything I can to protect our child, Parker. To take all their pain away. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

I lean over the table and cup his face lightly in my hands. “I love you.”

When the time comes for our first OB appointment, I drive so Parker can have a couple of hours to relax. He’s been working extra hard at the clinic, taking on more hours. We’re trying hard to avoid taking out a loan.

I don’t think I allowed him much relaxation, though, with the radio blaring and my off key singing to every pop song that plays. My parents didn’t bless me with a great singing voice, even though I like to pretend it’s out of this world.

When Parker looks out of the corner of his eye at me, I pick up the car charger cord and bring it to my lips. When I begin to sing into it as if it’s a microphone, he breaks into a laughing fit. It isn’t before long I’m joining his laughter.

I start to wish I hadn’t driven as we enter downtown Minneapolis. There are way too many one-ways making it extremely confusing to navigate.

My stress turns into excitement when we pull into the parking lot and Parker stretches his legs, grinning at me from behind his Ray Bans. I’m so excited for this appointment.

My yellow sundress blows in the wind as we walk side by side, our fingers locked together. We don’t say a word as we enter the building.

Wendy’s already in the lobby and she stands when she sees us. She’s wearing a tight tank top and, to the average person, she wouldn’t look like she’s pregnant, but to me, it’s clear as day. Her once-flat stomach has a little more shape to it, and it’s an amazing feeling to know it’s our baby inside of her. Up until now, it hasn’t seemed real. It’s easy to forget that we’re expecting a child when we have nothing to see each day.

“Hey, you two!” Wendy beams. She’s glowing. Her smile is bright and stunning.

“Hi.” I have an urge to reach out and touch her stomach, but don’t want to seem creepy.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Parker asks. I can tell by the way he clutches his fingers that he has the same urge as me.

“Great! It’s crazy because I haven’t had any morning sickness with this pregnancy. If it weren’t for starting to show, I wouldn’t even know I was pregnant!”

“You look fantastic, Wendy,” I say.

Wendy hugs Parker and me. Before we even sit down, her name is called.

“Wendy Henderson?”

The nurse looks momentarily surprised that there are three of us, but I’m sure she’s dealt with surrogates before.

In the exam room, the nurse takes Wendy’s vitals, then leaves us alone.

Wendy’s sitting on the exam table with her ankles crossed when Parker asks, “Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?” I can tell he’s nervous because he’s running a hand through his hair, and I giggle. Parker’s not easily bashful, but apparently all it takes is taking another woman to a doctor’s appointment. I find this shy side of him sexy.

Wendy grins. “Of course, Parker. Don’t be silly. I want the two of you to be very much involved in this entire process. Trust me.”

We’re soon interrupted by a light knock on the door.

“Well, good afternoon!” The doctor says. I glance at my watch. This has to be the shortest time I’ve ever waited to see a doctor. Like, Guinness Book of World Records book short.

Parker and I both sit up straight and I shake the doctor’s hand.

Dr. Martin is older, maybe in his early fifties, and tall. He seems nice and the way he jokes around puts me at ease. He was the doctor who did the implantation and all three of us agreed to continue seeing him. He makes us all feel comfortable.

“All right, we’re at ten weeks,” Dr. Martin says. Since learning of her pregnancy every day has flown by. It’s hard to believe it’s already August.

“Let’s find a heartbeat, shall we?”

As Wendy lies back, Parker wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

“You can hear it this early?” I ask, amazed. I’d looked online and ten weeks is about the size of kumquat. Tiny.

“Ten weeks is the earliest you can. Now, the fetus is pretty low at this stage, so I’ll need you to lower your pants a little more for me.”

Parker looks away at first, but the second the loud, racing thumps from the fetal Doppler begin, he looks back. His hold on me tightens. We’re both staring at Wendy’s stomach in awe.

“Is that really …” I know it is, but hearing it still shocks me. I think my own heart just burst.

“Sure is. Strong, too,” Dr. Martin says.

“That’s amazing,” Parker stammers.

“Is it supposed to be that fast?” I ask, looking at the doctor. I have no idea what’s normal, but the Doppler is showing well over 160 beats per minute, and I know an adult heart can’t function at that speed.