As Dr. Williams finished her questions, I realized there was so much more I wanted to ask, but my mind was too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts. I stayed put in the examination room, clutching the ultrasound pictures in my hand, a mixture of emotions swirling inside me.
Dr. Williams noticed my hesitation and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Take your time, Ma'kyra. I'm here for you," she said softly.
I nodded, grateful for her understanding. "Thank you, Dr. Williams. I appreciate it."
She smiled warmly before excusing herself to attend to other patients, leaving me to process the life-altering news on my own.
Leaving the doctor's office, I found myself drawn to the baby section of Walmart. My heart swelled with excitement as I picked out a tiny onesie, imagining the day when I would hold my baby in my arms for the first time.
But as I reached for a Christmas tree, a sudden realization hit me—I hadn't told Amri about the baby yet. It wasn't something I wanted to share over the phone or in a rushed conversation. I wanted to wait until Christmas, to give him the gift of fatherhood in a special way.
So I tucked the ultrasound pictures into my purse, resolving to keep the secret for just a little while longer.
By the time Amri got home, I had already started cooking dinner. The aroma of wings filled the air, mingling with the scent of hot chocolate simmering on the stove. I smiled as he walked through the door, his eyes lighting up at the sight and smell of our makeshift Christmas celebration.
"Hey, baby," he greeted me with a kiss, wrapping his arms around me in a warm embrace.
"Hey, Amri," I replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "How was your day?"
"Long," he sighed, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. "But coming home to this makes it all worth it."
I chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. "Flattery will get you nowhere, mister."
He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Good thing I'm not trying to get anywhere," he teased.
We spent the evening cozied up on the couch, sipping hot chocolate and watching Christmas movies. The twinkling lights of our newly decorated tree cast a warm glow over the room, filling me with a sense of contentment I hadn't felt in a long time.
As I nestled into Amri's embrace, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as we were together, we could weather any storm. And as I gazed at the ultrasound pictures nestled safely in my purse, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for the future—a future filled with love, laughter, and the joy of becoming parents together.
We settled in to watch "Elf," one of our favorite Christmas movies, and I couldn't help but laugh at Will Ferrell's antics on screen. Amri lounged on the couch beside me, his arm draped casually over my shoulder as he chuckled at the absurdity unfolding before us.
But as the movie played on, I couldn't shake the unease gnawing at my gut. Every time I glanced at Amri, a knot tightened in my chest. How was I going to tell him about the baby? Would he be excited, or would he freak out?
Lost in my thoughts, I eventually drifted off, my head resting on Amri's lap as the credits rolled on the TV. The warmth of his body and the soft murmur of his voice were like a lullaby, lulling me into a peaceful slumber.
But my rest was short-lived. In the middle of the night, a wave of nausea washed over me, jolting me awake. I stumbled out of bed, barely making it to the bathroom before I doubled over the toilet, retching and heaving until my stomach was empty.
