Chapter 190 You're Going to be Parents

Chapter 190 You're Going to be Parents
Jane's POV

Two months after the wedding, I woke up to the familiar warmth of David's arm draped across my waist, sunlight filtering through our bedroom curtains in soft golden streams. Everything should have felt perfect—and it did, mostly—except for the sudden wave of nausea that hit me like a freight train.

I bolted upright, my hand flying to my mouth as my stomach churned violently. "Oh god," I mumbled, stumbling toward the bathroom as quickly and quietly as I could manage.

I barely made it to the toilet before everything came up. The retching was so intense it left me shaking, gripping the cool porcelain as if it were an anchor. This was the third morning this week, and I'd been telling myself it was just stress from adjusting to married life, or maybe something I'd eaten.

"Jane?" David's concerned voice came from the doorway, thick with sleep and worry. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

I wiped my mouth with a trembling hand, trying to catch my breath. "I'm fine," I managed weakly, though we both knew that was far from true. "Just... my stomach's been a little off lately."

David was beside me in an instant, his warm hand rubbing gentle circles on my back. "This is the third time this week, Jane. That's not 'a little off.'" His voice was soft but firm. "I think we should see a doctor."

"It's probably just a bug," I protested, though even as I said it, a tiny voice in the back of my mind was whispering possibilities I wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"Maybe," David said, helping me to my feet and wrapping his arms around me. "But let's make sure, okay? I'll call Dr. M's office as soon as they open."

Two hours later, we sat in the sterile waiting room of the medical center, my leg bouncing nervously as David held my hand. The fluorescent lights felt too bright, and the smell of antiseptic made my already queasy stomach lurch again.

"Mrs. Reynolds?" A nurse called out, and hearing my married name still sent a little thrill through me despite my anxiety.

The doctor was a kind woman in her fifties with gentle eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. After describing my symptoms and answering what felt like a hundred questions, she smiled knowingly.

"Well, Mrs. Reynolds, given your symptoms and the timing, I'd like to run a pregnancy test. It's a simple blood test that will give us definitive results."

My heart stopped. Pregnancy. The word hung in the air between David and me like a butterfly we were afraid to catch. I looked at him, seeing my own mixture of shock and wonder reflected in his eyes.

"I... we haven't been trying," I stammered, though that wasn't entirely true. We hadn't been preventing anything either, lost as we were in the bliss of newlywed life.

"Sometimes the best surprises are the ones we don't plan for," the doctor said with a warm smile. "Let's just see what the test says, shall we?"

The twenty minutes we waited for the results felt like twenty hours. David held my hand the entire time, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across my knuckles.

"What if...?" I started to say, then stopped, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"What if what?" David asked softly, turning to face me fully.

"What if I'm pregnant? Are we ready for this? We've only been married two months. We haven't even talked about kids seriously..."

David cupped my face in his free hand, his eyes serious but warm. "If it happens, we'll have the baby."

Before I could respond, the doctor returned with a smile that immediately told us everything we needed to know.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds. You're going to be parents."

The words hit me like a gentle earthquake, reshaping everything in an instant. Pregnant. I was pregnant. We were going to have a baby.

For a heartbeat, the world went completely silent. My breath caught in my throat as the reality crashed over me in overwhelming waves. Shock came first—pure, earth-shattering disbelief that made the room spin slightly around me. I blinked hard, certain I must have misheard, but the doctor's warm smile confirmed what my mind was struggling to process.

Then joy erupted from somewhere deep in my chest, bright and effervescent, bubbling up like champagne and making me want to laugh and sob at the same time. A baby. Our baby. The miracle of it made my heart feel like it might burst from my ribcage.

But just as quickly, panic swept in—a dizzying rush of uncertainty that left me breathless. Were we ready? Could we do this? My mind raced through a thousand questions I didn't have answers to, each one more overwhelming than the last.

"I... we..." I stammered, my voice barely a whisper as I looked between David and the doctor, as if one of them might wake me from this beautiful, terrifying dream.

My hands were trembling uncontrollably now, and I pressed them instinctively against my still-flat stomach where our tiny miracle was growing. The thought made me feel like I was floating and falling all at once.

"How far along?" David asked, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion.

"Based on your symptoms and the test results, I'd estimate about six to seven weeks. We'll schedule an ultrasound to get a more precise date."

I felt tears spring to my eyes—happy tears, scared tears, overwhelmed tears all mixed together. "A baby," I whispered, my hand instinctively moving to my still-flat stomach. "We're having a baby."

David's eyes were bright with unshed tears as he leaned over to kiss my forehead. "We're having a baby," he repeated, wonder coloring every word.

On the drive home, we were both unusually quiet, the magnitude of the news settling over us like snow. Finally, David reached over and took my hand.

"How are you feeling?"

I considered the question carefully. "Terrified," I admitted. "But also... excited? Happy? I don't know, it's all mixed up together." I squeezed his hand. "What about you?"

"Same here," he said with a soft laugh. "I keep thinking about teaching them to ride a bike, or reading them bedtime stories, or..." His voice trailed off as he shook his head in amazement. "God, Jane, we're going to be parents. I'm so damn happy. Whatever happens, I'm going to protect both of you."

"Jacob's going to insist on building a crib," David added with a grin. "And Ava and Emma are going to want to plan the most elaborate baby shower in history."

As we pulled into our driveway, I looked at our little house—our home—and tried to imagine it filled with the sounds of a baby.

Tiny cries in the night, first steps in the living room, toys scattered across the floor. The image made my heart swell with a love I didn't know was possible.