‘How quickly can symptoms appear?’ Diana asked slowly, anxiety creeping upon her.
‘It varies from woman to woman and from pregnancy to pregnancy,’ said Dr Minas. ‘When was your last period?’
‘I can’t remember exactly . . .’
Those words sounded so odd. When she and Julian had been trying for a baby, she had thought of nothing else, she had known every last detail of her menstrual cycle, when her peak ovulation time was, what her optimum temperature was, which foods she should be eating, everything. Diana’s cycle had never been the most regular of beasts, but to miss a period? Surely she couldn’t have missed one? But no – she genuinely couldn’t be sure. In the foggy haze after Julian’s death, she couldn’t be sure of anything. Nothing had mattered except getting from day to day.
‘Well,’ said the doctor briskly, ‘shall we do a quick test now? I’m sure you’re familiar with the procedure by now. You can go into the toilet there.’
But Diana sat there, rooted to the spot. She didn’t want to know. Her mind couldn’t cope. Pregnant? It just couldn’t be happening.
Dr Minas reached forward and put a reassuring hand over hers.
‘It’s normal to feel mixed emotions. And I imagine it’s particularly bittersweet in your case, given the circumstances.’
Julian. She was talking about Julian, of course. She assumed that Diana was pregnant with her dead husband’s baby, not his brother’s – why wouldn’t she? Anything else was unthinkable, repugnant.
‘Come on. Let’s try it,’ said the doctor with a kind smile. ‘Just a quick pee, then we’ll know one way or the other.’
Diana’s hand was shaking as she took the sample cup and went into the adjoining toilet. She sat down on the lid, putting her head in her hands. Breathe, she urged herself. You can do this. What if she was pregnant? Why now? After all those times she and Julian had been disappointed, it would be the cruellest irony possible. Julian’s brother. His brother. She bent her head lower, worried that she was going to be sick, breathing in through her nose, trying to clear her head.
‘Everything all right in there?’ called the doctor through the door. ‘Just relax, maybe run the tap if that helps.’
Diana could see that she was trapped – literally, in fact. There was no way out except through the doctor’s office.
‘Come on, Diana,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Be brave.’
The doctor was right, of course. There was no hiding from it – she had to know one way or the other. If she was pregnant, it wouldn’t just go away like the hangover she’d come here about. Quickly she flipped up the lid and mechanically went through the motions, carrying the sample out to Dr Minas. With a reassuring smile, the GP dipped a cardboard strip into the urine and waited, looking at her watch.
‘It’s positive,’ she said, smiling.
No, no, no. Diana couldn’t draw a breath. She felt as if she had pins and needles all over her body.
‘Really?’ she croaked finally. ‘Is it definite? I mean, are these tests a hundred per cent accurate?’
‘A blood test is the most accurate,’ smiled the doctor, nodding at the cardboard strip, ‘though false positives do happen.’
‘But in your medical opinion, am I having a baby?’ she said, stuttering.
The doctor clearly saw Diana’s pale face and leant forward to touch her knee.
‘I know there’s going to be conflicting feelings. But this is what your husband would have wanted, especially as you’d both tried so hard for a baby.’
Diana nodded dumbly. ‘How far gone am I?’
Dr Minas raised her eyebrows slightly and Diana saw a look of understanding pass across her face.
‘Well, we’d need to do a scan to tell you that. But these instant urine tests are usually effective from the first day after your missed period.’
The one question Diana wanted to ask she knew would have to go answered. However understanding Dr Minas was, she couldn’t bring herself to say it: ‘Could I be pregnant by the man I had sex with ten days ago?’
‘After you conceive, the body produces a hormone called hCG,’ explained the doctor. ‘Around two weeks in, there’s enough hCG in your system and that’s what the tests are picking up.’
‘Two weeks?’ she said slowly. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Could be as little as a week. As you’ll know, a woman conceives when the egg and the sperm fuse to become a zygote. The zygote travels to the uterus – which can take up to nine days – where it implants itself, and the body starts producing the hCG. As I said, it varies from woman to woman. It’s not an exact science, I’m afraid. We won’t know for sure until we have a proper scan.’
The tears were rolling down Diana’s face now, plopping into her lap.