Throwing the directions that, of course, are only in German, I jog down to the kitchen to grab a beer.  Propping my ass against the counter, I get lost in my thoughts, remembering when Melissa and I found out we were about to have two little ones and not just one.

There are moments in your life when you know that a higher power is at work.  That someone is hard at work making sure that all the bad you’ve ever felt in your life is cashed in for something so incredibly perfect it almost doesn’t seem real.

For me, just finding out that Melissa was carrying my child is a moment I will never forget.  We had become a family the day we officially adopted Cohen, and even though I love that boy as if he were my own, there’s something to be said about creating a life with the woman you love.  Knowing that Cohen is just as excited as we are is just icing on the cake.

Complete.  This is what it must feel like to own the whole world.

“Greg?  Are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”  Melissa laughs from the passenger seat.

I look over and smile when I see her stomach.  I would never tell her this, but I swear she grew again overnight.  She started showing early and never really slowed down.  At almost four months, I swear she looks further along.  Her doctor explained that this was just because she is so small to begin with.  Every day, her body changes more, and it’s sexy as hell to watch.

“Greg?” she prompts.

“Sorry.  Just thinking.”

“Well, if that goofy grin is anything to go by, it’s nothing about our baby and more about your insatiable hormones.”  She laughs and rubs her belly some more.

Reaching over I place my hand right above hers and drum my fingers softly.  “Are you excited?”  I ask, rubbing her stomach a few times before taking her hand in mine and lacing our fingers together.  When she told me that we could find out what we’re having before her twenty-week appointment, I jumped all over that.

“God, yes!  I can’t wait to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl.  Cohen told me this morning on the way to daycare that he thinks he’s having a sister.”

This has been an ongoing discussion.  Cohen and I both think it’s a girl, but Melissa thinks it’s a boy.  I couldn’t care less as long as our baby is healthy.

“You still going with the whole ‘there is no way I would be this big if it isn’t a boy’ argument?” Her line of reasoning even sounds ridiculous to me, but hey, I’m not going to argue with her.

She looks over at me with a big smile.  “Seriously, look at you, Greg!  You’re huge.  There is no way this is a girl.  I bet you our son comes out with little baby muscles.”

“Baby muscles?  Maybe we just have a really healthy baby,” I laugh.  “You should just admit that your men know everything now and save you the let-down when the doctor confirms it.”

She smacks me on the arm and laughs.  We continue to the doctor’s office in a comfortable silence, holding hands and enjoying the moment.

Pure happiness.

Once we get all checked in and back into the dimly lit room for the ultrasound, I start to get a little nervous.  Even though I can tell my girl is pregnant, it still feels so much more real when I look at the monitor and see the life we created.  Every one of her appointments has made me feel this way.

The first time I heard our baby’s heartbeat, I thought I was going to turn into a blubbering fool.  When we got our first ultrasound picture confirming the pregnancy, I felt like I was having a heart attack.  There really is no way to explain the overwhelming love I feel for this baby and Melissa.

“Ah, good morning, Cage family!”  Melissa’s doctor comes in and starts asking her all the routine questions before measuring her stomach and pushing it all over the place.  I hate this part.  Melissa grabs my hand and just smiles up at me, reminding me that the doctor isn’t hurting her.

“Will we be able to determine the gender today, Dr. Nicholson?”  Melissa asks softly.

I squeeze her hand out of reflex.  We’ve both been looking forward to this since the day she told me she was pregnant, but more importantly, we have a little dude at home anxiously awaiting the news on his new sibling.

“Yes, Melissa dear.  Sixteen weeks on the dot, perfect gestational age to take a look and see.”  He smiles down at her, his weathered face clearly happy to be a part of this.  I swear this man is never in a bad mood.  “Are you ready, son?  This is a big day for you, too.”