I had never wanted to strangle another human before, but…

A cheery blonde woman walked in pushing an ultrasound machine and introduced herself as Cheyenne. “We’re just going to check out your little baby and see how things look, okay? Is this your first ultrasound?”

“Yes,” Milan said shortly.

Cheyenne smiled and started the ultrasound. “Okaaaay, that looks good… And that’s fine… Yes… That’s your baby’s head there… And see the little feet? Just let me take some measurements here.” She clicked her mouse a few times and did some stuff with the cursor on the screen. “All right, just let me print this picture out for you. Your baby’s first photo,” she chirped.

I stared at the screen, trying to make out all the stuff Cheyenne was pointing out. “Can you tell if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Yes, of course. Would you like for me to tell you now?”

“No!” Milan broke in. “We want to have a gender reveal party, so just write it down and seal it in an envelope.” A gender reveal what?

“Sure thing,” Cheyenne said sweetly. “Now everything looks to be right on schedule for a fetus at sixteen to seventeen weeks gestation.”

Milan’s eyes snapped to me, and then she glared at the tech like she wanted to laser a hole through her head. “What does that mean?” I asked.

“I’ll explain it to you later, baby,” Milan said. It really irritated the piss out of me when she called me that.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Cheyenne said. “It’s my job. That means that your partner is around four months pregnant.” Four months? But…

“No. I’m right at seven months,” Milan argued, staring hard at Cheyenne.

She smiled kindly and said, “No, you’re definitely around four months. Your stomach will be much larger at seven months.”

“Well, I’m petite, and my doctor in Boston said I’m seven months,” she snapped.

Cheyenne gave me a look like she was wondering if Milan had missed her crazy pills today. She flipped through some papers while I counted backward in my head. “Actually, Ms. McVey, we have your records from your OB appointment in Boston last month. Your records indicate that you were at three months then.”

Milan was breathing heavily. “Well, maybe your reading comprehension skills need some work. You certainly have no idea how to do your fucking job.”

Cheyenne’s face paled, and I snapped, “Milan!” She turned her pleading eyes toward me. “Tell me how far along you really are,” I said sharply. I could feel my ears turning red as the implications of all this started to hit me.

The tech looked back and forth between us, and her eyes widened as she seemed to catch on. “Oh. Um, I’m just going to step out and let you two talk for a moment,” she said, retreating behind the curtain.