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This time, when Nunie goes to her doctor's appointment, she's alone. Her abuelita's knee is acting up and her abuelito demanded she stay home as to not overexert herself any further, so Nunie hopped on the train by herself, heading to Dr. Davis' office with jittery nerves and excitement coursing through her.
Nunie sits on the comfortable examination table, but her knee won't stop bouncing, and she can't stop checking the time anxiously because today is the day.
Today is the day she finds out the gender of her baby, and she's so fucking excited.
It takes another ten minutes for Dr. Davis to walk through the door and Nunie greets her happily, watching as her OBGYN gets settled in the rolly chair, grabbing the gel, and ultrasound device to press against her stomach.
"How are we feeling, Nunie? No grandma today?" Dr. Davis asks, pulling up Nunie's file on her computer.
"Feeling good, doing good—I-I g-got in touch w-with a therapist f-from the program you said I was q-qualified for," Nunie says, watching as Dr. Davis reads a note on her chart with a small hum.
"That's great! I'm happy I could help, hopefully it's going well," Dr. Davis nods, turning back to face Nunie. She moves closer, uncapping the bottle of gel. "Are you ready? Today is the big day." Dr. Davis smiles slyly and Nunie giggles. "What are we hoping for?"
"A-a healthy baby," Nunie says hesitantly because even she's unsure of what she wants. It's still so unreal that Nunie is already five months pregnant—only having four more months to go. Sometimes, she sits and wonders around what type of mother she will be—strict or kind—friend or foe, but all she knows is she'll do a better job than her own mother. At least, she'll try her very hardest to be better—do better.
"Of course," Dr. Davis smiles, "okay, this might be a bit cold, please lift up your shirt a bit."
Nunie complies, scrunching up her white graphic tee, as soon as the cold gel touches her skin, Nunie shivers. Her bump had grown in size and Nunie had grown in size too—putting on so much weight, she barely had a thigh gap anymore. Eventually, she won't be able to see her toes anymore.
For some reason, Nunie holds her breath as Dr. Davis turns on her device, checking the computer screen as she gently presses the stick against Nunie's stomach.
"Nunie, you can breathe, girl," Dr. Davis laughs slightly, because with the amount of times Nunie has called her and come into the office—she feels a sort of camaraderie with her doctor—knowing that she truly cares for not only Nunie but her baby very fiercely.
"I'm nervous," Nunie whines as Dr. Davis starts moving the ultrasound device around on her stomach. It's quiet for almost five minutes and Nunie can't even make out what she's looking at, but Dr. Davis is squinting at the screen closely, and Nunie can see her face twist as she makes a realization. "W-what i-is it?" Nunie demands, wanting to know.
