and i am ravaged, she clicks around the mouse, right there, toying with it, moving under the screen, along the sonogram’s image. she says it like she’s disappointed, fidgets with her glasses, like she expected more, like we were wasting her time.

“come back again 2 weeks from now…”, frowning, “you know, so we can track the development, before I send you for bloodwork.”

and then it all freezes, like some pause button’s been pressed and my wife sits there with a thin piece cheap of tissue covering her legs, looking at the doctor like she knows as well, how hopeless this all is.

then it starts up again, and the doctor presses another button, snaps off a tongue of a black and white image from the machine, turns to us, grins and sighs, “congratulations…”

and she says something about meeting her in her office after my wife gets dressed and I’m looking at the image of yet one more child that we are hoping for. I know I saw its heart beating this time. I know I saw it as I put my finger on where I believed it to be.