"This will be cold," warned Dr. Mason as she squirted blue gel on me. It was. She rubbed it around a little and placed a little metal widget against my skin. "Tell me if I'm pressing too hard," she said, and, "It's still early for the heartbeat," as if the two were connected.
She moved the widget back and forth, and we listened to static. Apparently my womb is just like the airspace on a freeway. I tried to discern some sort of actual sound. Any kind of actual sound.
"There's you," said Dr. Mason after a minute, and after a few seconds I could hear it too: a stately WHUMP...WHUMP...WHUMP behind the static. She tried a few more positions and pressed a little harder, then stopped. "There! Do you hear it?" I did, a steady WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP. "About a hundred and sixty," Dr. Mason noted, while I grinned like an idiot and realized: Ohmigod, there's actually something in there!