A/N: Hello all! Back to school I go, and back to writing boring academic papers. To make up for the (possibly longer) length of time between this chapter and the next, this is a pretty long chapter packed with lots of moments. Hope you enjoy.
Also, as a side note, just wanted to say thanks for not pointing out all the little mistakes in the sentences that I've made! I went back through and read it all again and realized some of these late nights resulted in me repeating words or skipping them, or some other random thing. You're all so sweet, and I hope you have a great week.
August 14, 2022 | Henry
Watching her sleep is his second favorite way to start the day. His first favorite was done Saturday morning, and Sunday morning, her body apparently told her to sleep in. He was fine with that—both favorites in one weekend is more than a man could ask for.
As usual with her other three pregnancies, her libido raised in that third month—particularly at the end of that crazy week in Kauai—and it hasn't gone down yet. If it's anything like the last three, it'll simmer back down at around week thirty-two when she can't see her toes anymore (which, in his opinion, is totally understandable). For now, he'll soak every bit of raised libido in and always concede to his wife, like he did yesterday morning and last night before they fell asleep.
This morning, though, he's able to watch the mixture of pregnancy and post-sex make her skin glow. Her shoulder rises and falls as she sleeps with her back touching his chest. Her knees are bent so that her feet can tangle up with his legs, and she's stayed so still all night that he's had to check to make sure she was still breathing more than once.
His worry for her hasn't wavered. With every little ache or pain, his normal level of empathy and anxiety for her was doubled. He had Dr. Gorrell on his "Favorites" list in his phone, just in case he needed to get ahold of her quickly. Nonstop, since that Hawaii sunrise back in June, he has worried about her.
Dr. Gorrell has told them before that everything is looking fine with the pregnancy so far, and she has come to their living space in the White House to do every appointment so far. The technological advances since 2001 have amazed both parents—the once big and bulky ultrasound machine that was basically stationary in a doctor's office was able to be connected to a handheld tablet these days. "Discreet," Henry had said as they watched Dr. Gorrell hook the cords up and prepare the small machine next to Elizabeth's side of the bed where she laid.
"Discreet, indeed." Dr. Gorrell replied. She had been able to get by security with no questions asked. Henry still thinks that it's because Bill knows—nothing gets past that guy, not even a top-secret presidential pregnancy.
His hand dips below her side and slides down her stomach, feeling the new, yet familiar roundness of her midsection. He's always prided himself in knowing her body second best, and he only has learned the ways of her body by studying and observing, just as he's doing right now.
He closes his eyes and takes the sensation in, knowing that this, for sure, will be the last baby. Even though they thought that with Jase, this is by far the last one. No more. He even said he'd get a vasectomy if that's what was needed, and so far, Elizabeth has been on the same page.
His hand wanders up the curve and back down, following the downward slope that leads to her chest. He lets his fingers roam around her skin so softly, almost as though he's barely touching her, and gently embraces one of her breasts before sliding his way to the other one.
While his hand gently glides over her skin, he thinks back to the first time he noticed her body truly growing with Stevie inside. It had only been a few weeks since they'd found out about the baby, and they were getting ready for work one morning.
Sitting on the side of the bed, Henry took a moment to pay attention to Elizabeth. They've always said that pregnant women have a new glow about them, but it was true—she was glowing. She looked angelic the last few days. He wondered how long it would last and if she realized she's glowing, too. The sickness had subsided, maybe even stopped, it seemed, and they were both thankful for that.
He watched her pull her pants on and button them, watching her struggle a little more with the button and zipper than she normally would have. There was a swell in her stomach, barely visible to anyone else, but Henry had studied this woman for too long to not notice the difference. She pulled her bra on and latched it, and seeing that she filled the cups out to the brim, it made his "man-brain" kick in and he almost said something, but refrained. He wanted to cherish the moment.
She wore am undershirt first, and the swell was really emphasized by the tight material. However, the button-up shirt hid all evidence that there was anything different—other than that beautiful glow. When he looked at her, all he could think of was how the Northern Lights glow with such vibrancy.
He has felt every inch of the front of her body that his hand could possibly reach when she starts to stir, and then he hears her quiet chuckle. "Henry," She murmurs, "You're making me want to devour you." She says before turning her head back to face him, her eyes being held open lazily before yawning.
Smirking, he rolls her over to her back and slowly slides the sheet downward toward her legs, "I'm just taking it all in." He whispers, leaving a trail of kisses from the middle of her chest to just above her pelvis. When she squirms a little, he shimmies his body between her legs and looks at her. The new, yet familiar bump was between their gazes of each other, and they both were smiling. "Want me to get your blood pumping?" He asks, knowing his hot breath was melting her skin as he spoke just an inch away from it.
After her nod of approval, he went to work doing everything he knows she loves—since he knows her body like the back of his hand, it comes pretty easily to him. He always makes it a point to try new things, but he also always goes back to the favorites because they never disappoint.
Both of Henry's favorite things have been done in one morning—and who is he to ever complain?
August 15, 2022 | Elizabeth
"Babe," Elizabeth calls out from the bathroom while brushing her teeth, "Baby is the size of a banana this week." She states through the garbles of tooth brushing.
She found out that there are apps to track pregnancies through Dr. Gorrell when she'd expressed some of her own concerns to the doctor about her age and such. Dr. Gorrell explained that the apps can track symptoms, too, and tell you when something is maybe abnormal. Elizabeth immediately downloaded it that night, and has been obsessed with finding out each week what size the baby is since then. "They didn't have this back then," She whined to Henry, feeling a unexplainably pitiful one evening. "Our kids missed out."
"On the excitement of their mother comparing them to fruits while in the womb?" Henry teased.
"Yes." She answered simply. "Everyone deserves that."
Henry was coming in to join her on their morning routine, beginning to brush his teeth beside her. "That's amazing." He says, squeezing a strip of toothpaste on the brush. "Officially twenty weeks now, right?"
"Right," She says after spitting the toothpaste in the sink and rinsing her brush off. She slides the toothbrush into the holder and turns sideways, looking at herself in the mirror. "I'm starting to look like Winnie the Pooh."
"Winnie—who?"
"You know…that little cartoon bear that wears shirts that are too short for him." She explains, referring to her shirts that she's always worn to bed that were a little out of reach of her pants. "My little…bump…is starting to poke out too much from underneath this shirt." She says, then makes the realization that soon all of her clothes will be doing the same thing.
She, so far, has hid the pregnancy from everyone outside of their immediate family—Jason, Allison, Stevie, and Dmitri, who all took the news with lots of shock—with the exception of Blake. A few weeks after they had come back from Kauai, Blake had walked into the Oval Office and asked if he could speak frankly. Elizabeth, of course, had always encouraged Blake to speak his mind, but she was still shocked at what came out of his mouth.
"Madam President," He said, sitting down in the chair across from her desk. His fingers were twiddling, playing around with each other, and she knew just from that alone that he was nervous to say whatever it was he had to say. "I think I know something that I shouldn't, and I don't want you to get mad at me if it's not actually true, but I also feel like I need to say something because, well, other people might find out soon. And if it's something you don't want other people to find about, then, well, I need to cover it up, and—"
"Blake," She stepped in, stopping the poor man from babbling on and on, "I won't be mad. Tell me what you think you know."
He finally made eye contact with her and took a deep, shaky breath in, "Are you pregnant?" He asked, laughing and shaking his head nervously, "I was always told to never ask a woman that, but I feel like it's important in this situation."
Elizabeth leaned backward in her chair and took an equally deep, shaky breath in before closing her eyes. "How did you find out?" She asks, suspecting the worst. Some reporter had somehow made the connection, she was sure of it.
"Intuition." Blake replied, surprising Elizabeth. "I see you every day, Madam President, and I am a very empathetic, observant person, in my opinion." He explained, now looking her in the eye seriously and less nervously. "I've known you for—" He paused long enough to do some quick math, "For eight years now, and, well, you're just different. And last week when you started wearing baggier shirts, it really sealed my suspicions and made them into something more concrete. But then my conscience started nagging at me and I felt like I should protect you from making the same mistakes with other people. There are ways to style yourself without making the public suspect anything."
After the baggy shirt mistake she'd apparently made with Blake, she went back to her regular shirts, but keeping the ones that were flowy rather than form-fitting in rotation. But the way her little stomach was poking out of this Led Zeppelin tee, she had her doubts that she would be able to even pull flowy off today. Henry, of course, said she looked beautiful, but she knew that today was the day she had to change something up before she was caught.
She found her phone and texted Blake as Henry was getting dressed. "Good morning, Blake. Instead of coming to the office today, can you meet me in the exec. res.?" She sends.
Less than a minute later, Blake replies, "Good morning, and of course. Should I bring the clothes I've started ordering for you?"
"Yep. It's time. I told Henry this morning that I look like Winnie the Pooh."
He laugh-reacts to the message and replies, "Will be there in thirty minutes."
Henry left about five minutes for his office before Blake arrived with a rolling cart of clothing. "Good morning, Madam President." He greets her, toting the cart into her living area. "I have lots of choices here. I've done my research, and I've done the research via Google and via people I know who have had kids. These are proven to hide the bump for a little while longer, at least."
She nods, thumbing through the articles of clothing, "So how do I do it?"
"Well," He says, picking out an outfit for her and laying it on the couch, "It's slightly bigger items than what you would normally wear, but not big enough to be baggy on you and slouch around your waist or hips. Instead, it's flowy stuff like you've been wearing, but in a bigger size. And then in a few weeks when this becomes impossible, we start adding blazers with a scarf—which, by then, no one will suspect anything because it will be cooling off, anyway."
She picks up the outfit that he laid out for her and looks up at him, taking the glasses off her face, "Blake, I really appreciate this." She breathes, feeling that emotion ball up in her throat again. "You don't know what it means to me that you've kept this secret and helped me keep it, too."
He smiles and puts more outfit choices together, organizing them on the rack so that she just has to pick which pairing she wants each day. "I would hate to see you stop doing good work just because people think you can no longer do your job, Madam President." He says, "And I believe that you do perform great work for all of us."
"Thanks, Blake." She says genuinely, and then nods, "I'm going to head to the bedroom and change. You can leave these clothes in the hall down there and I'll wheel them in my closet later." She explains.
"You're welcome." Blake says, "Anything else you'd like me to do before the daily agenda?"
She stops halfway down the hall and smiles at him, "I'd love a cupcake." She admits, "The ones with chocolate icing and the strawberry inner. Oh, yeah, that's—" She stops herself from moaning, "Yeah. That's what I'd like."
"You got it," He says and wheels the cart into the hall like she asked, "See you soon."
Elizabeth was deep into reading reports when she heard a familiar voice say, "Hey mom," and saw the door to her office opening in front of her.
She stood up when she saw Stevie peeking through the door, "There's my girl," Elizabeth says, subconsciously pulling her shirt to make sure everything was covered. She would do that with everyone else, but she knows somewhere in her mind that this is Stevie and she's safe, but her hands still did the job they're used to doing when someone comes into her office. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" She asks, furrowing her brow and sliding the glasses off her face. She sets them down on the desk, and leans sideways on one hand against the desktop, feeling a little out of breath this morning.
"I came to bring you some lunch," She announces, drawing attention to the large tote in her hand. "We haven't had lunch together in a while and I kind of just wanted an excuse to see you for a while." She admits, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly as she sets the tote on Elizabeth's desk.
Elizabeth sits back down in her chair and smiles, "Oh, how I love you, sweet child of mine." She declares. "Chef Cindy made—"
"Kale salad." Stevie interrupts, "Yeah, Dad texted me to let me know, which prompted the lunch. But I had told him I wanted to come have lunch with you anyway, so don't think this was all his idea." She says as she pulls the cartons of Chinese food out of the bag.
Organizing all the food containers and finding forks for herself and Stevie, she couldn't help but feel immense happiness when Stevie sat in the chair opposite her, just glad to be having lunch with her daughter.
After they had taken a few bites, Stevie clears her throat, "So," She starts, "When do you guys find out the gender?"
None of the kids had asked much about the pregnancy. They were absolutely shocked, and rightfully so, when she and Henry had sat them all down on the Fourth of July. That was the one time they would all be together, so they jumped on the opportunity.
Elizabeth confided to Henry that she felt like maybe they were making the wrong choice by deciding to have the baby. She felt like, maybe, the kids would resent them for it since it puts their lives in the heavier spotlight and really just turns their lives upside down again after they had just started to get used to being the First Children. The ever-level Henry, though, told her that it was just a shock and that they would eventually come around. And now he was right…ugh.
"Tomorrow, actually," Elizabeth says, pulling her glasses down from her head and squinting to check her personal desk calendar. The doctor dates were just random things like "Give Hope a bath" or "Order more shampoo," but written in green ink rather than the usual black that she would normally write with. This time, the words "New movie comes out" meant that she would be visited by Dr. Gorrell for them to hopefully find the gender of the baby.
"Twenty weeks, right?" She asks, stuffing noodles into her mouth.
"Twenty weeks," Elizabeth replies, raising her glasses back up to rest on top of her head. After a moment of chewing and silence, she speaks up again, "Are you and Jase and Ally upset about this?" She asks finally, just ripping the Band-Aid off.
Stevie stops chewing, furrowing her brow and looking up at her mom. "What?" She asks, "No, Mom, definitely not. I mean, it was a lot to take in," She explains, "But we're happy for you guys if you're happy. I think we're all three a little worried—well, maybe just me and Ally are worried, Jason says that you're basically immortal now. Don't really know where he's coming up with that."
Elizabeth laughs and leans back in her chair, turning it sideways so that she could still reach her food but not squish her bump anymore. "Definitely not immortal, but glad to know Jase cares." She says jokingly, "Blake has a whole wardrobe planned out for me until I can just absolutely not hide it anymore. And then we'll tell the press, but only after I have everything in line and ready to go for Morejon to take my place temporarily."
Stevie nods as she listens and eats, "And do you think they'll all take it well? The public, I mean?"
Elizabeth pulls her shoulders up to her ears and presses her lips together, widening her eyes, "I hope so." She retorts, "Your dad and I said we would just cross that bridge when we get there." After finishing her sentence, she sets her free hand to rest on her bump without thinking.
Stevie immediately nods to her hand and Elizabeth notices, pulling it away, "Pulling up on that bridge soon," Stevie says, referring to the fact that she can't hide her body language much longer. "Things like that little touch could send the public spiraling."
Elizabeth knew she was right. They needed to start their game plan, and the only way Elizabeth could make the plans to leave everything for Morejon is if she brings Jay up to date on the situation. She knew it was time to bring him in.
They were sitting down on the couches in the oval office for a while, discussing the big points for the afternoon while sipping on some waters. Once Jay had gone through his list, Elizabeth excused everyone from the room and asked Jay to stay behind.
He looked nervous, and she had to go ahead and calm his nerves, "You're not in trouble." She says before he sits back down, looking slightly more at ease.
"Okay."
She sighs and looks down at her stomach, "I'm just going to get this over with quickly." She starts, "The first female president has found herself in a very female predicament." She says frankly, "And that predicament has about twenty more weeks in here," She says, cupping the sides of her stomach with both hands, "Until it's a predicament in my arms."
The shock on Jay's face comforted Elizabeth. He seems oblivious, which is good. If Jay hasn't noticed, many others probably haven't, either.
When he doesn't speak, she continues, "A very loved predicament, though, Jay." She adds, "I won't go into details, but it was a surprise, and it will be known as he or she as of tomorrow. It's happening, and it's a good thing. It's just…" She pauses to find the right words, or the words that at least don't sound wrong, "It's just a happy obstacle. One that we're taking as a challenge, but one that we are happy about in the end. Does that all make sense to you, Jay?"
He was still just staring at her, blinking every once in a while. This, too, was comforting—he can blink. He's not in total shock.
"Jay?"
"Madam President," He chokes, "I—congratulations, first off." He stammers, fiddling with the papers in his hands. "Wow."
She laughs, nodding her head and sipping on her glass of water, "Wow, indeed, Jay…wow, indeed. If you're this shocked, just imagine how Henry and I felt at fifty-two and fifty-four."
Jay finally laughs, too, and takes the first deep breath she's seen from him since she asked him to stay behind in her office. "So, um," He pauses and counts on his fingers, "A December baby?" He asks, and she could tell he was trying to scoot the subject away from such seriousness. He obviously knows, too, how dangerous a geriatric pregnancy can get.
"December 16th," She says, "At least that's the predicted date. You know how that goes."
"Yeah, Chloe was a week late and the doctors say Annalies won't make it until week thirty-eight since the baby is measuring big."
She nods, "Stevie was a week late, too, and Allison had made her debut about a week early. Jason was right on time. The only planned one out of the three of them and the only one to arrive on the date he was due. Miracle, right?" She feels herself blush a little when she mentions the planning aspect. She didn't just freely give that information out to everyone, but she was comfortable enough with Jay that it felt natural to say it until she heard herself. She always considered him more of a friend these days rather than just her chief of staff.
"Especially knowing Jason now? A total miracle."
They began to think over the plans for letting Morejon transition into temporary presidency for the last few weeks of the pregnancy and the first month after the baby was born. They would revisit the tentative plans later, and revise them if need be, but for now they at least had a direction.
August 16, 2022 | Elizabeth
She'd scheduled this luncheon before she ever knew she was going to be pregnant for it, but now she's glad that she did. She and Henry talked it over last night on the couch, multitasking while eating dinner.
She scooped a pile of cauliflower rice into her mouth, "I think we should just let him find out like the rest of America will."
Henry shook his head at her, nibbling on a piece of carrot. "Conrad has been one of our best friends and allies for over two decades, Elizabeth. We can't do him like that."
"I already had to tell Jay, and you know that Blake put it all together. That's two people, plus Dr. Gorrell, outside of our family that already know." She said. "I don't want too many people to know. It makes it easier for someone to slip, even if they don't mean to."
"You think Conrad will slip?"
She shrugged, "I would like to think he wouldn't, but we all make mistakes." She said, setting her bowl down and taking a swig of water before curling her feet up underneath her on the couch and leaning on the armrest.
"Still, he's one of your oldest, most loyal friends aside from Isabelle and I think we owe it to him." He said, finishing with his bowl as well. "What exactly was that supposed to be that I just ate?"
"Teriyaki something." She said, gazing in the empty bowls. "I miss the days of Chinese in a box and having nothing to eat at home except a bowl of cereal somedays so much that I almost think about lying to Chef Cindy and hiring my own personal grocery shopper."
Henry laughed at that, "That would be pretty unethical, but I'm almost willing to look past it."
"Good, because I tested the process out and hired someone to buy us a gallon of ice cream. It's in the personal freezer." She instructed, asking him to go get them some without asking those words specifically. She knew that he would know by the look on her face and the tone of her voice.
When he left and came back with two bowls of ice cream, they quickly worked on those together. "Maybe you're right and I should tell Conrad."
"I'm always right." Whack. "Ouch," He said, nursing his bicep where her knuckles had just met his muscle.
"And I'll do it again." She said in her best Old West voice before shoveling in some more rocky road.
"Bess," Conrad says, walking into the lunch room where they had scheduled to meet. It was more private than a restaurant for two presidents to meet in, and she'd instructed Chef Cindy to make Conrad's favorite meal for him today.
She walks over to him, trying to conceal the slight waddle that seems to have infiltrated her body this morning, and gives him a big hug. She wraps her arms around his neck tightly, "You don't know how much I've missed hearing you say that name." She says, patting his back and pulling away from him. "What's my approval rating?"
"Surely Jay knows that." He answers, furrowing his brow as he makes his way to the table to sit down, waiting for her to sit first since that, now, is protocol.
Elizabeth notices and it strikes her as weird. It is protocol, and that's what she always did with him, but now that the roles are reversed? She still hasn't gotten used to that. "No, the only approval rating that I really care about." She corrects, sitting down and scooting her chair in.
Once they were both situated, Conrad stopped chuckling and lays his napkin over his lap, "Well," He says, "I think you're doing a great job."
She smiles at that and lays her napkin on her lap as well, smoothing it out over and over before she realized the silence was becoming awkward, and it was on her. "I have to tell you something. And that wasn't the original reason for this lunch, the reason was just to get together with an old friend and chat about life, but now life has changed a lot."
Conrad leans over on the table, his fingers folded together in front of his chest and his elbows sticking out to the sides. "Stevie and Dmitri are having a baby?" He guesses, putting his spy skill to the test.
Elizabeth laughs and shakes her head, "You know, the presidency really dulled your spy sense, Conrad." She teases, "I've had to make sure I sharpen mine every once in a while by stalking my kids' significant others on Facebook."
"I really figured I was spot on, too." Conrad admits, narrowing his eyes and staring at her. "Give me one more try, here." He says, thinking hard for a few minutes and mumbling life change…life change… "You and Henry aren't getting a divorce, are you?"
"Oh God, no." She wheezes, "We're closer than ever."
He sits back in his chair as though he has just made a sudden realization, and Bess knows exactly what she said to make him have that epiphany.
"Director Dalton," She said, "Can I speak to you privately today?" She asked, tucking her coat around her body as far as it could go without making it look too small. And it was about to be too small, this would probably be the last time she got to wear it before she had to retire it to the pre-baby clothing pile again.
"Bess," He said, looking up from his desk. "I'm free right now if you are?"
She walked in and shut the door behind her, sitting down in the chair on the other side of his desk. "I'll get straight to the point." She breathed, and before she could say anything, she was interrupted by him.
"Don't tell me you and Henry are divorcing, too? George just came in yesterday to tell me he and his wife are splitting."
"Oh, no," She stammered, "Henry and I are closer than ever." Instead of trying to find the words, she simply opened her coat up to expose the tight shirt she'd chosen to wear this morning to announce to the company that she was, indeed, pregnant. There had been enough gossip surrounding the department for too long, so she figured she would lay the rumors to rest by giving them the truth.
A snort came out of Elizabeth when she saw Conrad's eyes widen. "Wow," He said, "How did you keep it quiet this long? I mean, I heard the rumors, too, but…"
She shrugged, "It just wasn't everyone's business except mine and Henry's, but now it's getting a little harder to keep private." She explained, "And I needed to go ahead and fill out maternity leave stuff. I know I only got three weeks with Stevie, but I was hoping—"
"Laws changed since last time, Bess." He said, "You'll have two months with this little one, and I will be glad to sign those papers." He smiled and nodded, "Congratulations, and be sure to congratulate Henry for me. Lydia and I will be happy to have you both for dinner to celebrate the occasion later this week."
She nodded, giving him a warm smile in return. "Thank you," She said, "I'll let Henry know. We always love having dinners at your house."
"And I love watching Stevie and Harrison play," Conrad added, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair and smiled, "Those two are best of friends."
"They sure are, sir."
"Wow," Conrad says, clearly surprised at this information. "I really didn't see that one coming, and I don't think I can blame my dulling spy senses." He admits.
She shrugs and makes a face, "I can't say I blame you. Surprised us too. A former spy and now president and a former intelligence agent—we were still blindsided."
Conrad stands up and walks over to Bess, giving her a tight hug again, "Congratulations, Bess." He says, and then goes to sit back down. Once he settles again, he furrows his brow and looks up, "I suppose you've already got it figured out?" He asks.
She sighs and leans on the table for a moment before deciding she can't breathe well in that position, then leans back in her chair instead. "Jay and I talked it over yesterday." She says, and then remembers, "Oh, and, obviously we're keeping this quiet for as long as we can." She warns him, "Outside of the kids, only Jay and Blake know. And now you."
"So, keep my mouth shut?" He teases.
"Right," She says, chuckling at his humor. "Blake and Jay work for me and I think are still scared of me to some degree. I doubt they'll ever tell. So if it gets out there…" She teases, raising one eyebrow at him and laughing about it together.
"Dr. G 3:00. Don't forget."
Elizabeth had sent that text to Henry a few minutes ago, and he finally replied with, "I'm already waiting for you."
She walks to the executive residence and when she shuts the door behind her, she leans against it tiredly. "It's been a long few days." She admits.
Henry looks up at her from his book and smiles, setting the book down and taking his glasses off. "And it's only Tuesday."
"Don't remind me." She says, walking in to the couch and plopping her things down, then laying herself across his lap. She feels his hands touch her stomach, and she smiles at the surge that shoots through her body. Just his touch alone could make her feel safe once again.
She looks over at the clock and notices they have only a few minutes until Dr. Gorrell would be arriving. She places her hands over his while he is gently massaging her sides, right up near her ribs, where the achiness had really started to bother her the last week or so. Ligaments stretching at thirty was different, apparently, than ligament stretching in your fifties. They were a little rusty, she supposed.
"Mmm, okay, you've got to stop." She warns and laughs, opening her eyes to look at him again. "She'll be here any minute and if you keep going with that I'm going to hold you prisoner in that bedroom."
He smiles at her and then laughs at the choice of words, "Such a romantic." He teases.
She sits up just in time for Dr. Gorrell to knock on the door, and Henry gets up and lets her in.
After their usual greetings, Elizabeth laid down on the couch and pulled her loose-fitting dress up to her chest, letting Dr. Gorrell lay a towel over her thighs. "Ready to see what we're working with today?" She asks, getting the ultrasound machine all set.
"Ready as ever." Elizabeth breathes, looking at Henry and smirking.
After a few minutes of that cold, cold gel and a few minutes of listening to the heart beat and watching the banana-sized baby on the screen, Dr. Gorrell speaks again, "Here's the moment of truth." She says.
When Henry and Elizabeth look, they know immediately. They've seen this one two other times before. "Congratulations, it's a—"
"Girl." Henry and Elizabeth both whisper, holding each other's hand tightly.