Holding my belly was my new favorite activity.

To think that there was a person in there, a tiny human the size of an avocado just growing inside of me. The miracle of making a baby was just that; an incredibly life-changing event that seemed to happen with just faith and a little bit of magic.

Not that Carson and I had been trying to make a baby, but like it always had, the universe just seemed to find ways to bring us together. And what was more anchoring than having a child together.

Etta James’ “Sunday Kind of Love” crooned out of the record player in my living room, and I danced slowly with my hands splayed out on my tiny bump.

It had been ten weeks since we’d found out we were having a baby, and at sixteen weeks, I was feeling good. Past all of the nausea of my first trimester, and the fears of miscarrying, I was starting to enjoy my pregnancy and everything that came with it.

“That kid needs some Van Halen. Don’t worry, bump, I’ll put some headphones on you tonight when mommy falls asleep.” Carson winks at me and kneels down so that he’s talking to my stomach, and the baby inside.

“I can’t wait two more hours … I want to know now.” I knew I was whining, but when you wait four months to find out if your baby is going to be a boy or a girl, patience is kind of thin.

“We’re almost there, baby. And whatever it is, all I care about is that he or she is happy and healthy.”

“And that they throw lefty.” The sarcastic tone in my voice made him tickle me a little. “Oh, please don’t do that. I’m in the bathroom enough as it is, I don’t need laughter taking me there.”

Over the past month, I’d been peeing like there was no end to it. This growing a baby stuff was tough, but so worth it.

Since Carson had come back six months ago, things had changed so drastically that I looked at the last ten years without him and thought it was some sort of past life. The woman who I was, the recluse living out on an island surrounded by wild horses, I didn’t even know who she was. That broken, haunted person who refused to speak to anyone or acknowledge her grief … she was light-years away. Yes, we both had scars and echoes of the pain we had suffered, but in six months, he’d turned me back into the person I’d once known myself to be.

Passing by the table in the hall and grabbing a light spring coat, I glanced at the hall table we’d set up when Carson had moved in. Yes, he’d given up the rental he’d loved and moved into my childhood home. There was no way I could have given it up … it reminded me of the family I missed so much. And I wanted our child to grow up in the house that had held so much love for me. Carson had been so open to it, and we’d slowly been melding our stuff together.

I’d had to put up with his dartboard coming in, and the big wooden desk that he loved to keep piles of papers on when he worked from here and not the office.

But moving in together had also opened up another part of me I hadn’t realized I was hiding away. After my father and Joel died, I packed up any and all mementos of them, trying to hide the pictures and items that hurt to look at.

As Carson was going through the basement and storage spaces, he discovered the boxes I’d packed away. And convinced me to take them out again.

So there he was, the shining face of my twin brother, sitting happily on our hall table. Each time we left the house or entered it, Joel was there waiting for us. It was both comforting and heartwarming.

“He would have loved his niece or nephew. Taught them to swat at seagulls and cut through paths in the woods that didn’t even exist.” Carson’s hands wind around my waist, and bittersweet tears clog my throat.

“Yeah, he would have. But … I think he knows. Somewhere up there, he’s looking down on us and laughing.”

“I think he is, too. Now how about we go find out what this little bump is, and we can make him laugh even harder?”

I nod, Joel's face was so good to see. I'd locked his memory away for so long, that it felt nice to remember and talk about him now.

The car ride to my doctor's office was filled with anxiety. With each visit, my anxiety heightened. I wanted everything to be okay, I wanted to do everything I could to deliver a healthy baby. I wanted to meet him or her so badly that it ached in my bones.

"Relax. Everything is fine, and worrying only stresses you." Carson rubs my leg as he maneuvers my Jeep into the parking lot of the office.

We check in, and shortly after the nurse takes us back. She takes my blood pressure, does some measurements of my belly, asks some questions about how I've been feeling, and then takes way too many vials of blood as they do when you're growing a tiny human.

And then finally, my ob-gyn comes into the room.

"Hi you two! How you feeling, mama?" She pats my naked belly and sits down, typing into the sonogram machine.

Dr. Helena Chase has been a godsend to my nervous tendencies. At every freak out, she would take my phone calls. When I cried that one visit about not being ready, and having no family, she listened.

"I'm okay, just ready to see whether bump is a he or she."

Carson smiles and squeezes my hand. "We are very ready."

"All right, proud parents, let's see if we can't get this little one to show us the goods."

She squirts some cold jelly onto my skin and turns the black and white screen on, the image blank while it's not on my stomach.

"And here we are."

Our baby’s heart beat fills the room, and like I do every time I hear it, I burst into tears. I swear, before I was pregnant, I wasn't really a crier. Even with all of the tragedy in my life, I'd never cried much. But now, with my raging hormones, I sobbed at almost anything. Even gum commercials.

Looking up at Carson, I can see how much he loves this baby. He's been so supportive, never voicing one doubt, though I know he has had them. He's been unfailing in his cheerfulness and effort to ease every one of my worries.

"Look right there ... it's a girl!" Dr. Chase points to the screen.

But I can't hear anything beyond that. My eyes blink, trying to erase the tears blinding me. I listen to her heartbeat, this strong girl inside me, and I fall even more in love if that is possible.

"We are having a little girl. Our little girl." Carson kisses my temple and pushes his cheek against mine so that we can look at the screen together.

I'd been so worried about having a girl. After all, I grew up around boys. I'd never had a mother, and I didn't know the first thing about behaving like a normal woman. Like the ones everyone referred to as the perfect woman.

But looking at her, hearing her strong heart ... all of those worries vanished.

I was going to love her so fiercely, that it didn't matter what skills I lacked. I'd protect her for the rest of her life.