“I’m really scared,” she admitted, her fingers lacing with mine.
“I know,” I replied, giving her fingers a squeeze. “But I’m not scared of anything,” I boasted. “So we’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” she said.
I pressed my lips against her hair and held them there, letting the tiny strands brush against my face. I’d do whatever it took to make sure that we were okay.
“Let’s remove that IUD,” the doctor said as he and the nurse came back into the room.
Sarai reached for my hand, and I cringed as they helped her feet into the stirrups.
“Try to relax,” the doctor said as Sarai’s fingers tightened around mine.
There was a sheet covering what the doctor was doing, but I still broke out in a cold sweat as he worked.
“You okay?” I asked, leaning down to kiss Sarai’s forehead.
“It hurts,” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut.
My stomach churned.
“All done,” the doctor said a few minutes later, reaching up to pat Sarai’s knee as he stood up. “How’re you doing?”
“Okay,” Sarai said, letting out a deep breath.
“The worry we have when someone becomes pregnant while using an IUD is ectopic pregnancy,” he said, taking off his gloves. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then turned to face us. “But the ultrasound showed everything progressing appropriately in your uterus.”
“What’s an ectopic pregnancy?” I asked, glancing between the two of them.
“It’s when a baby starts growing in a fallopian tube,” Sarai replied.
“And that’s bad, right?”
“Yes,” the doctor said. “Ectopic pregnancies aren’t viable. They can be very dangerous if they progress too far. There’s a danger of the fallopian tube rupturing and causing internal bleeding.”
“Rupturing?” I asked, feeling the blood drain from my face.
“Alex,” Sarai said, tugging on my hand. “You heard him say everything is fine.”
“It could’ve—” I shook my head a little and looked back at the doctor. “That would’ve been really bad, right?”
“But it wasn’t,” the doctor said calmly. He clapped me on the shoulder as he moved toward the door. When he got there, her stopped and turned to face us. “Everything looks good. Once you’ve had some fluids, you can head home.”
“Thank you,” Sarai said.
I couldn’t say anything. My tongue felt as if it were glued to the top of my mouth as I stared at Sarai’s hand in mine. She could’ve been really hurt. The difference between what would have been not viable and our currently growing baby was what—only a few inches? And what had he meant by “rupturing”? Like, exploding? Sarai’s fallopian tube could have exploded? I wasn’t a doctor, but that sounded really bad.
“Alex,” Sarai said, trying to meet my eyes. “Everything is fine.”
“But it almost wasn’t,” I blurted. “You could have exploded.”
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“Your fallopian tube could have exploded,” I said dumbly, staring at her in horror. “Why weren’t we more careful?”
“How could we have been more careful?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“I could’ve worn a condom,” I said in frustration, running my hand over my face. My hand was shaking. “Jesus, I should’ve—”
“Alex,” she said softly, pulling me toward her. “Come here.” She pulled me down until our cheeks were pressed together, her lips brushing my ear. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “Everything is fine.”
Jesus, she’d been right to be afraid. What if something went wrong? What if something bad happened?
I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against hers, turning so that I could kiss her.
“This wasn’t a bad idea,” I murmured. “I promise. I know that shit is moving faster than you wanted, but we’re not a bad idea. I love you so much.”
Sarai sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t mean it,” she said, her voice wobbling as her hands came up to cradle my face. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re the best decision I ever made,” I rasped. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“I love you,” she whispered, pressing her lips to mine. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
* * *
After Sarai was discharged from the hospital early that morning, she went to bed and slept for almost twenty-four hours. We didn’t talk about the baby; actually, we didn’t really talk about anything. We went back to our jobs, and Sarai studied and went to school. We ignored the elephant in the room, and I swallowed back the questions I had. Did she really think we were a mistake? She’d apologized for saying it, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a kernel of truth in her words. Maybe it made me a coward, but I was afraid to ask her about it.
I was waiting for her to bring the baby up, but she didn’t. She just continued on with her normal day-to-day life as if nothing were happening. As if she weren’t growing a human. Thankfully, after the night we’d spent at the hospital, she didn’t seem to be feeling bad or having any morning sickness. I wasn’t sure if that was normal or not, but I wasn’t about to rock the boat by bringing it up.