Ultrasound Photo Quotes

This is us. Our pose. The smush. It’s even how we are in the ultrasound photo they took of us inside Mom and how I had us in the picture Fry ripped up yesterday. Unlike most everyone else on earth, from the very first cells of us, we were together, we came here together. This is why no one hardly notices that Jude does most of the talking for both of us, why we can only play piano with all four of our hands on the keyboard and not at all alone, why we can never do Rochambeau because not once in thirteen years have we chosen differently. It’s always: two rocks, two papers, two scissors. When I don’t draw us like this, I draw us as half-people.

She scoots over so we're shoulder to shoulder. This is us. Our pose. The smush. It's even how we are in the ultrasound photo they took of us inside Mom and how I had us in the picture Fry ripped up yesterday. Unlike most everyone else on earth, from the very first cells of us, we were together, we came here together. This is why no one hardly notices that Jude does most of the talking for the both of us, why we can only play piano with all four hands on the keyboard and not all alone, why we can never do Rochambeau because not once in thirteen years have we chose differently. It's always: two rocks, two papers, two scissors. When I don't draw us like this, I draw us as half-people.

It is undignified to inject yourself with hormones designed to slow or enhance ovarian production. It is undignified to have your ovaries monitored by transvaginal ultrasound; to be sedated so that your eggs can be aspirated into a needle; to have your husband emerge sheepishly from a locked room with the “sample” that will be combined with your eggs under supervision of an embryologist. The grainy photo they hand you on transfer day, of your eight-celled embryo (which does not look remotely like a baby), is undignified, and so is all the waiting and despairing that follows.

She scoots over so we’re shoulder to shoulder. This is us. Our pose. The smush. It’s even how we are in the ultrasound photo they took of us inside Mom and how I had us in the picture Fry ripped up yesterday. Unlike most everyone else on earth, from the very first cells of us, we were together, we came here together. This is why no one hardly notices that Jude does most of the talking for both of us, why we can only play piano with all four of our hands on the keyboard and not at all alone, why we can never do Rochambeau because not once in thirteen years have we chosen differently. It’s always: two rocks, two papers, two scissors. When I don’t draw us like this, I draw us as half-people.

I cut out the best of the ultrasound pictures and kept it on my bedside table. I would spend hours staring at it. It was such an inadequate, ugly image, so frustrating in its refusal to give me anything to hold on to, any way of envisioning who the baby would be. My body was making something in secret, and I was reduced to spying on my internal organs with these grainy black and white photos. But I hung on, faithful, waiting,

Chase shoved one of the ultrasound pictures in Bree’s face, “Then what the hell is this?” I stepped up next to her, took the photo out of his hand and spoke softly, trying to hide my shaking. “It’s mine Chase.” You could have heard a pin drop. Chase’s face had softened as soon as he’d seen me, but turned into one of shock when he registered what I’d said. After a few minutes, a grin that reached his eyes spread across his face as he searched mine. His eyes slowly trailed down to my stomach and grew wide, “You’re pregnant Princess?” “Yes.” I whispered. He lifted his head to smile at me and dropped it again, gaze fixed on my bump. This time no one stopped me when I let my hand fall to cover it lovingly. “Is it – is it mine?” “Of course it is.” “We’re going to have a baby?” “Yes.” “This is our baby?” He reached for the photo in my hand. I smiled, “Yes.” His expression was so beautiful, tears instantly poured down my cheeks. “We’re having a baby.” I laughed through my tears and nodded my head. Chase ran a hand through his hair and huffed out a laugh. He looked from the picture to my stomach once more, “I love you so much.” he breathed and closed the distance between us, crushing his lips to mine. I didn’t care that his family was watching, I threw my arms around his neck and let him lift me off the ground. After I was good and kissed, he set me back down and dropped to his knees. Running his hand over my gummy bear bump, he lifted my shirt and kissed my bare stomach twice. A sob broke out of my chest and I looked at Claire who was freely crying and leaning into Robert. Even Bree was wiping a few tears away. Chase stood back up and cupped my face in his hands, “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I was scared,” I shrugged, “I still am.” “You don’t have to be scared,” he whispered and kissed my nose, “I’ll take care of us.” I

When she's gone, Tom dares to look at Sam and then the ultrasound photo again. "You've fathered the elephant man. Someone has to tell her.