04

ASHLEY’S P.O.V

The gentle ‘whoosh-whoosh’ sound filled the room. 

A sound that was laughter and tears together came out of me. I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt the wetness on my cheeks.

“My baby” I whispered, watching the little blip on the screen with glassy eyes. After six years of trying, after being told that I may never be able to conceive naturally because of my hormonal imbalance, after many days and nights of longing to carry my child in my hands.

I was finally going to be a mother.

“It feels so real now,” I whispered again. My voice was too full of tenderness to rise any louder.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Langston,” My OB-GYN said with a smile. “By the look of things, your baby is healthy. The heartbeat is steady, and the growth is on track for seven weeks. Everything looks just the way it should at this stage.”

Her voice faded into the background of my thoughts. Even the sharp smell of antiseptics and the distant murmur of nurses outside the ultrasound room faded as I watched my tiny baby on the black-and-white screen.

This wasn't any false hope or delayed period. This wasn't me begging a stick for two pink lines. This was real. My baby was alive in my womb.

A tight feeling swelled in my chest and squeezed my heart. Instinctively, my hand went to my flat stomach, rubbing fondly over the thin paper gown

“It's a boy,” I said softly

The OB-GYN paused. She glanced at the screen, then back at me, her dark brows pulled slightly together.

“We can't determine the gender yet Mr Langston. But by your second trimester....”

“He's a boy,” I repeated again, smiling with certainty.

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it and nodded. “We will know soon enough.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. Something deep and overwhelming was blooming very fast inside me. It was bigger than awe, it was deeper than joy. 

The feeling swelled larger with every whoosh of that tiny heartbeat.

“I just know it’s a boy,” I whispered, barely recognizing my voice through my happy tears. “I can feel him.”

A soft smile curled on my lips as I pressed my hand protectively to my stomach. He was mine. My baby, already loved. Already everything to me.

If only Kellan was here to share in our happiness. It would have been perfect. My mood immediately dropped, and my throat tightened.

He should be returning to Austin today; the last time he texted me hours ago, he said he made a stop in Dallas. I did tell him that I was visiting the hospital today, I waited for him to ask what for, but he didn't ask

The Doctor handed me a stack of papers, including prescriptions for my morning sickness. “Make sure to eat healthy and stay hydrated. And Mrs Langston...”

I pulled my eyes away from the screen to meet hers. “Yes?”

Her tone shifted, softer now, more cautious. “Your body has been through a lot. With the scarring from your ovarian cyst surgery, there’s an increased risk of complications. It may be harder for your body to carry to full term. That doesn’t mean you won’t, it just means we’ll need to monitor everything very closely.”

My heart plummeted immediately, and every muscle in my body tensed. “What do you mean, doctor?" My voice rose with anger, denial, and, most of all, fear.

“I didn’t go through all these years of trying, and suffering and surgery after surgery, years of heartbreak just to lose my child before I have that chance to carry him in my hands.”

Her eyes softened with sympathy. “Mrs. Langston. Please relax”

“Do not cuddle me.” My voice wobbled, the tears flowing now weren't happy ones. “I WILL carry my baby. I have to. I can't imagine....”

“Breathe, Ashley,” she said gently, “I know how much this means to you. I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m saying you need to be extra careful, physically and emotionally. Minimize stress. Prioritize rest. Give yourself and your baby the best chance.”

I swallowed hard, blinked, and then nodded, though a heavy weight was pressing my chest. My hand drifted instinctively over my stomach; my fingers curled protectively over it as if I could shield the tiny life growing inside of me.

My eyes still stung. I didn't know how I made it back to my car in one piece without falling apart. Paul noticed my change in mood, he asked if I was okay, but I didn't want to talk. I didn't have the strength to. He offered to call Kellan, and I snorted out a bitter laugh that morphed into a cry at the end.

Where was Kellan Langston whenever I needed him? Where was he when I waited at the restaurant waiting to break the news of our baby? Where was he when I was crying moments ago, and my OB-GYN held my hand and told me that I and my son would be fine?

Where was Kellan when I needed him the most?

Paul pulled into the driveway; I hurried out of the car without a word. On reaching our room; I dropped myself softly into the soft sheets and cried my heart out.

“I can't lose you,” I whispered to my baby, rubbing my hand over my stomach. 

“I'm already losing your daddy; I can't lose you too.”

 My voice cracked, and I hiccupped, crying my face into a mess. I cried for long hours before drifting into sleep.