Santana's leg bounced anxiously as they waited in the clinic. The room was filled with other expectant couples. Brett noticed her unease and gently placed his hand on her knee, attempting to calm her. "You didn't tell your parents where we are, did you?" she asked nervously, her eyes wide with apprehension. Brett shook his head. "No, I told them I got stuck at work," he reassured her.
She nodded, trying to steady her breathing, but her leg resumed its restless bouncing. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. Suddenly, a nurse called out, "Santana Lopez." Brett stood up and helped Santana to her feet, guiding her toward the examination room. The walk felt surreal, each step heavy with the weight of impending news.
"Hello, Miss Lopez," Dr. Holiday said, extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Holiday. Is this your first prenatal appointment?" Both nodded. Brett added, "This is her first pregnancy. I have two kids already." Santana glanced at him, grateful for his presence. Despite his own nerves, Brett's calm demeanor helped her feel a little steadier.
"Wonderful," Dr. Holiday said, her tone soothing. The fifteen minutes were a whirlwind of questions. Dr. Holiday asked about Santana's medical history, her family's health background, lifestyle habits, and any symptoms she had experienced.
"According to the urine and blood tests, you are indeed pregnant," Dr. Holiday confirmed with a smile. "Congratulations." Santana let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Brett squeezed her hand, his own relief palpable. The confirmation made it all feel real.
"Now, I'll conduct a physical exam," Dr. Holiday continued. "We'll check your blood pressure, height, weight, and perform a pelvic exam." Santana lay back on the examination table, trying to relax as Dr. Holiday went through the procedures. "Your blood pressure is good," she noted. "Height and weight are normal. Let's proceed with the pelvic exam."
Brett felt a bit out of place during this part, unsure where to look, but he kept his focus on Santana's face, giving her an encouraging smile whenever their eyes met. Finally, Dr. Holiday concluded the physical exam and turned to them with a reassuring smile. "Based on your last menstrual period, it looks like the baby was conceived in late August. That puts you at about six weeks pregnant. Your estimated due date is May 20th."
Santana's eyes widened. Hearing the specifics made it all so tangible. "May 20th," she repeated softly, as if testing the sound of it. Dr. Holiday looked at Brett and Santana with a warm smile. "I'll book you in for an ultrasound in two weeks," she said, typing into her computer. "After that, in another two weeks, you'll be offered NIPT and CVS tests."
Brett pulled out his phone and began adding the dates and appointments to his calendar, wanting to make sure he didn't forget any important dates. Santana watched him, feeling a mix of gratitude and admiration for how seriously he was taking everything.
"When can we tell our families?" Santana asked, her voice a mix of excitement and anxiety. She had been thinking about this since they found out, wondering when it would be the right time to share the news. Dr. Holiday smiled kindly. "That's entirely up to you," she said. "Most people wait until 12 weeks; some wait until 20. It's really about when you feel comfortable."
Brett looked thoughtful for a moment before turning to Santana. "Maybe we can go somewhere in the middle," he suggested, his tone gentle and reassuring. "Around 14 or 15 weeks? That way, we can be sure everything is progressing well but not wait too long." Santana nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "That sounds good," she agreed. "I want to tell them, but I also want to be sure."
Dr. Holiday glanced between them. "Do you have any more questions?" she asked, her hands resting on her lap as she leaned forward slightly, her posture open and attentive. Santana shook her head. "I don't think so," she said, looking at Brett for confirmation. Brett smiled and nodded. "No, I think we're good. Thank you, Dr. Holiday."
As they left the clinic, Santana felt a sense of clarity. They had a plan now, and Brett's presence made everything feel more manageable. He held her hand as they walked to their cars, the connection between them stronger than ever.
The next two weeks passed in a blur of routine and excitement. Santana and Brett settled into a rhythm, balancing work, the boys, and their growing anticipation for the ultrasound. Each day brought them closer to the moment when they would see their baby, and the prospect filled them with a sense of wonder and joy.
On the day of the ultrasound, Brett and Santana sat in the waiting room with his arm around her shoulders to keep her calm. He kissed the side of her head and chatted about his morning at work and where they might go for lunch after the appointment before heading back to work. The moments seemed to stretch endlessly, but in reality, it was only ten minutes before Santana's name was called.
The sonographer, a middle-aged man with a kind smile, introduced himself and directed Santana to lie on the examination table and pull her shirt up just under her bra. She reached out to Brett, who took her hand, squeezing it gently.
The sonographer explained the procedure. "I'm going to put some gel on your stomach," he said. "It might feel a bit cold." He applied the gel and then placed the ultrasound wand on her abdomen, sliding it around as black-and-white images began to appear on the TV screen and his monitor.
For a few moments, the room was silent, save for the soft hum of the equipment. Brett and Santana watched the screen intently, their hearts pounding in unison. Finally, the sonographer spoke. "There it is," he said, confirming Santana's pregnancy.
He began taking measurements and pointed out the flicker of the heartbeat. "That's the embryo's heartbeat," he said, smiling at them. Brett's grip on Santana's hand tightened, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. The sonographer continued, "The gestational sac, yolk sac, umbilical cord, and amniotic sac all look normal and as expected. You have one embryo, and it looks healthy." He turned to them, his smile widening. "Congratulations, you're about eight weeks pregnant."
As he printed off photos for them, he explained what each part of the image represented. Brett, staring at the grainy black-and-white picture, chuckled. "It kind of looks like a frog." Santana laughed, her tension melting away at his lightheartedness.
The sonographer smiled at their reaction. "Your next ultrasound will be in ten weeks, and it will be an anatomy scan. During that scan, you can find out your baby's sex if you wish, and you'll also be able to hear the heartbeat clearly. It's a bit too early for that today."
With the ultrasound photos in hand, Brett and Santana left the clinic, their fingers intertwined. "Where do you want to go for lunch?" he asked, looking over at Santana with a smile. "Baby wants Raising Cane's," she replied with a smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Brett rolled his eyes playfully but couldn't help grinning. "Raising Cane's it is," he said, opening the car door for her.
As they drove to the restaurant, they talked about the ultrasound and what it felt like to see their baby for the first time. Brett kept glancing at Santana, who was studying the photos, still amazed at the tiny life growing inside of her. "I can't believe we're having an actual baby," he said, his voice tinged with wonder. "I know," Santana agreed. "It's surreal. But in a good way."
When they arrived at Raising Cane's, they ordered their food and found a quiet corner to sit and eat. The restaurant was bustling with the lunchtime crowd, but Brett and Santana were lost in their own world, talking and laughing as they ate. Santana, playing with a piece of chicken, looked at Brett thoughtfully.
"I was thinking," she began, "maybe it'd be nice to tell everyone at Thanksgiving. Your family will be attending the Lopez Thanksgiving this year, right?" Brett paused, considering her suggestion. "You'll be around fifteen weeks then," he mused. "Seems like a good idea to me. Just hopefully your stomach doesn't pop and make it too obvious." He chuckled, but then a more serious thought crossed his mind.
"Actually," he added, his tone growing more tentative, "how would you feel if I told Emily's parents first? I'd rather it come from me and not the boys." Santana nodded immediately. "Of course, you can. That makes sense," she said, smiling supportively. Brett sighed with relief. "Thanks. I actually already told Emily. When I took the boys to see her, they were running around, and it just felt right to let her know."
Santana reached across the table and placed her hand on his, gripping it gently. "How are you feeling about that?" she asked softly. Brett looked down at their hands, his thumb brushing over hers. "Guilty," he admitted quietly. "I feel like I've cheated on her or something." He laughed nervously, his emotions a complicated mix of relief and remorse.
Santana smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, she's going to be pissed then, considering you've been 'cheating' on her for, what, three, four years? And we did anal on your last birthday, which is a whole other level of cheating." Brett's cheeks flushed red as he looked around to see if anyone had overheard. "Santana" he hissed, biting into his chicken tender to hide his embarrassment as Santana laughed, her eyes twinkling. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Brett found himself smiling despite his embarrassment.
"Oh, by the way, yes" she said out of nowhere, her tone suddenly casual. Brett looked at her, confused. "Yes?" he prompted, wondering what she was about to say. "Yes" she simply said before throwing a fry in her mouth.
Brett stared at her, even more confused. "Yes?" he repeated. She nodded, a playful smile on her lips. "Yes," she said again. "Huh?" he asked, still not understanding. "I'll move in with you" she clarified, her eyes meeting his with a serious yet loving expression.
Brett's heart skipped a beat. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement and disbelief. Santana nodded again. "Yes, really," she said, her smile growing wider. Brett leaned across the table and kissed her, unable to contain his happiness. "You just made me the happiest man in the world," he whispered against her lips.
Santana walked into the apartment, the door closing softly behind her. She immediately noticed the comforting aroma of dinner being prepared, and her heart lifted a little more. She made her way to the kitchen, where Quinn was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. Quinn glanced up, her face lighting up with a smile.
"Hey," Quinn greeted her, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You seem in a better mood today." Santana couldn't help but smile back, her mood indeed lighter than it had been in days. She moved towards the fridge, opening it and scanning the contents for a snack. "Yeah, I guess I am," she admitted, pulling out a container of leftover fruit.
Quinn continued to stir, her curiosity piqued. "Did you and Brett make up?" Santana nodded, popping a grape into her mouth. "Yeah, we did. And... I'm moving in with him."
Quinn's hand paused mid-stir, her eyes widening in shock. "What?" she asked, her voice reflecting her surprise. Santana nodded again, more firmly this time. "He asked me a few weeks ago. I've been thinking about it, and it just feels right."
Quinn placed the spoon down, turning to face Santana fully. "This seems sudden," she remarked, her tone cautious. "Are you really sure you're ready to move in with him? It's not just him, Santana. He has children." Santana met Quinn's gaze, her own steady. "I know," she replied. "I've thought about it a lot. I'm ready for this. It feels like the next step for us."
Quinn raised an eyebrow, her skepticism clear. "You and Brett barely know each other, really," she pointed out. "Are you sure this isn't just moving too fast?" Santana sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and determination. "Why are you trying to put me off?" she asked, her voice tinged with hurt.
Quinn softened, her expression one of concern rather than judgment. "I'm not trying to put you off," she said gently. "I just care about you. I want to make sure you're doing this for the right reasons."
Santana stared at her for a moment, feeling a surge of gratitude for her friend's concern but also a firm resolve. "Then you'll be happy for me and Brett," she said, her voice strong. Without waiting for a response, she left the room, heading to her bedroom.
She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment. Moving in with Brett was a huge step, but it felt right. She had spent countless nights thinking about it, weighing the pros and cons, and always coming back to the same conclusion: she wanted to be with him and his boys.
Santana sat on her bed, pulling out her phone. She scrolled through her messages, finding the one from Brett that simply read, "missing you and little frog x." She smiled, feeling a rush of affection. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Quinn peeked in, her expression softer. "Can I come in?" she asked.
Santana nodded, patting the bed beside her. Quinn sat down, her hands folded in her lap. "I'm sorry if I came across as unsupportive," she said. "I just... I worry about you. I want you to be happy, and I want this to work out for you." Santana reached over, taking Quinn's hand in hers. "I know, and I appreciate it," she said. "But this is what I want. Brett and I, we have something special. I love him."
Quinn squeezed her hand. "Okay," she said softly. "Then I'm happy for you." Santana smiled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "Thank you," she said. "That means a lot to me."
The two friends sat in silence for a moment, the air between them filled with unspoken understanding. Santana was the first to break the stillness. "I guess that means I should ask Puck to move in, then," Quinn said, her voice laced with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Santana's eyes softened with empathy, realizing the gravity of Quinn's decision. "I'm sorry," she said, her tone tinged with genuine sadness.
But then, as if on cue, both women burst out laughing, the tension dissipating in an instant. It was the kind of laughter that came from years of shared experiences, of knowing exactly what the other was thinking without having to say it out loud.
"We're both going to live with smelly boys," Quinn commented, rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless. "And I'm going to live with three of them," Santana added, her grin widening. "I'm totally outnumbered." Quinn chuckled, shaking her head. "Better get used to it. Boys are a different species entirely."
Quinn looked at her friend, admiration in her eyes. "You know, you're braver than you think, Santana. Moving in with Brett, taking on his kids… it's a big deal." Santana shrugged, a modest smile playing on her lips.