Falling - Tom Holland imagine

Chapter 29

"Its not for another hour Tom, we don't have to leave yet," I said with exasperation at my once again boyfriend. "The appointment is at 1.30, if we get there early we'll just have to sit around and wait, and I'm guessing the sight of you sitting in an antenatal unit will get the fans swarming you and by association me and the baby. So lets keep any exposure to the minimum shall we" I said archly.

He looked at me with a pout, "But I'm just really excited" he said walking over standing behind me and reaching around to cradle my belly as I enjoyed the warmth radiating off his body "I just want to see this little one so badly," and more quietly, "I need to know they're doing ok!"

"I know my love, I am just as excited and concerned, but its just an hour. Plus after that you've got another 28 weeks till you can actually hold them properly. Patience is a virtue apparently"

"Will we get to know if we're having a girl or boy today?" he queried.

"No, I don't think so, that's the second scan at 20 weeks, this is more of a dating scan and making sure no significant problems. I had the blood test for it last week."

"What blood test?"

"One to check for my risk factor for Down Syndrome I think, its really low risk at our ages but I wanted to know"

He nuzzled against my neck, kissing gently. We'd not crossed into that territory in the 5 days we'd been back together, keeping most of our physical contact pretty PG. I wanted to as did Tom but he was still worried about hurting me or the baby and had resolved to chat to the midwife about it as the internet was full of confusing and contradictory advice. But standing here, warm strong arms around me, soft kisses along my shoulder and neck was everything, and I was certain I could feel a slight hardness against me, but Tom shifted, doing everything he could to avoid pressuring me in any way.

We made our way through the hospital down to the maternity unit for the antenatal scans, Tom wearing a long billed baseball cap and hood pulled up over the top of it covering most of his face, as I checked in with the receptionist, filled in a couple of forms and took a seat waiting for my name to be called. We found a corner tucked away at the bottom of the L shaped waiting room and sat down, Toms eyes roving across the pastel colours of the room before looking back at his phone whilst I people watched, noting the different sized women waiting for their scans and other appointments, growing worried as a woman who must have been full term waddled past, she looked so done with it all, and I couldn't believe how big a pregnancy could make you. I was fidgeting slightly as I really needed to pee, but knew a fuller bladder would make the ultrasound a lot clearer and easier to review so I crossed my legs a little tighter and squeezed Toms hand, which was interlaced with mine.

Finally my name was called and we both headed into the scan room. The lady introduced herself and asked me to pop onto the paper covered bed, and lie back, then pull down my leggings to my knicker line. She tucked a smaller sheet of paper into the top of my leggings and knickers and raised my top to just below my breasts before warning me and dolloping a cold blob of bluish gel onto my swollen stomach. Then sat back on her chair and picking up a chunky white scanner which she pressed gently to my stomach and began to move back and forth as a grainy black and white picture appeared on a screen ahead of me. Tom gripped my hand tightly, anxious about the whole procedure and whether the baby was okay. She kept moving the wand about looking carefuly at the screen, not saying much as she moved from side to side looking. The room was silent apart from our breathing when she pulled the wand off me and turned to the both of us as Toms face went white.

*******************flashback****************************

We'd only been asleep for about an hour that first night, when I was woken by Tom fidgeting behind me and moaning and muttering in his sleep, clearly having a nightmare. I turned to him and  rubbed his arm trying to wake him gently or at least shift him into a more restful sleep, but it just grew worse and tears began to leak from his closed eyes at the terror he was experiencing, worrying me immensely. I shook him a little harder and he woke with a scream, scaring the hell out of me as he bolted upright, sobbing and gasping for breath repeating the words "no" over and over. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to stop him from shaking; and his eyes focused on me and he gave a huge cry of relief before throwing himself into my arms, resting his face against my chest as I cradled him close, rubbing his back and stroking my fingers through his tangled hair as I asked him to calm and follow my breathing, exaggerating the movement of my chest up and down, to make it easier. I recognised a panic attack when I saw one building up and tried to head it off before hysteria made it harder to break through.