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At first, all I saw was grainy movement, shadows and shapes I didn’t understand. Then I noticed it—a tiny, rhythmic flicker, fast and alive.
“That’s the heartbeat.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “Oh my God.”
Tears slipped down the sides of my face, quiet and uncontrollable, as the weight of it settled in. After five years of heartbreak, my body was finally holding on. I was going to be a mother.
I left the room floating, one hand instinctively resting on my stomach, already imagining how I’d tell Greg—maybe over dinner, maybe with the ultrasound photo wrapped in a card, maybe just blurting it out because I’d never been good at keeping joy to myself.
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