Hailey pressed her ear against Mommy's round tummy. A soft gurgle echoed from inside. "What's in there?" she asked, tapping the smooth curve.
At the doctor's office, a glowing screen showed a tiny face swimming in black and white. Hailey leaned closer. Her breath fogged the glass. "Is that a baby?" she whispered.
Her finger traced the outline. Then back home, Hailey opened a board book with flaps that lifted to reveal babies.
She flipped past a crawling baby, a sleeping one with a pacifier, and stopped at a toddler hugging a teddy. She gasped, then hugged the book to her chest. A slow smile spread.
That evening, Hailey stood beside Mommy and patted the tummy gently. "I'll teach you to climb trees and share my cookies," she declared.
Mommy's hand covered Hailey's, warm and steady. Sunlight spilled across the floor, painting gold stripes around them.
Back in her room, Hailey lined up tiny socks and a soft bear on her bed. Then she hummed a lullaby while rocking the bear back and forth.
She whispered, "I can't wait to meet you." The house felt fuller, brighter, ready.
The pink socks waited on the bed, the little bear stood guard, and somewhere nearby, a new heartbeat made the whole house feel different.
Soon, there would be two pairs of tiny shoes by the door, and a second voice in the hallway, and Hailey would have someone to share everything with.
