“I'm okay,” I assure her. “It’s only a concussion, according to the doctor. I just want to make sure the baby is okay too.”
“I bet,” Dr. Glendaver says with a sympathetic tut. She pulls out the machine’s ultrasound wand. “Let’s see how we’re doing in there.”
I don't realize that I'm holding my breath until the drum of the baby’s amplified heartbeat fills up the room, and every bit of air in my body releases with one big whoosh.
Dr. Glendaver co-signs my relief, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Congratulations! That is one strong heartbeat.”
“Yes, it is,” I say breathlessly. Happy tears sting my eyes.
To my surprise, Victor, who was waiting in his usual silence on the other side of the bed, reaches out and squeezes his hand around mine.
I look over to find him also sagging with relief. He must have been as worried as me, even though he didn't show it.
“Have you opted to know the gender?” Dr. Glendaver asks us.
An awkward moment passes between Victor and me.
Then I tell her, my voice awkward and strained. “I know, but Victor doesn't.”
“Do you want to know?” Dr. Glendaver asks Victor.
Victor nods, and his hand once again squeezes around mine.
“Is that okay?” Dr. Glendaver asks me carefully. I can tell she's trying to assess the situation between the two of us.
I'm not sure if any of this is okay. I've probably just signed myself up for another two decades of insane drama with this big reveal.
But I nod, nonetheless. Victor so obviously wants to know. I can't keep the information from him, even to be petty.
“Well, it looks like your little girl is doing fine,” Dr. Glendaver announces to us before going down the list of all the things that are A-OK with the baby.
She concludes with, “So, Dawn, your only job for the next week or so is to take care of yourself and monitor that grade 4 concussion. I saw on your chart that you are visiting from Pittsburgh. Do you have someone here who can monitor you for the next few days before driving you back there? We don’t want you flying or driving yourself, and we don’t want you to take a trip that long before the symptoms have subsided.”
“I…um…could probably ask my friends Luca and Amber to stay with them for a while.”
Victor chooses that moment to let go of my hand.
But Dr. Glendaver approves of that decision, and after a few carefully worded questions, we establish she knows Luca and Amber Ferraro as well. Amber’s blind, so it makes sense that she’d have an obstetrician who specializes in helping women with disabilities give birth. But Dr. Glendaver is so smooth with the HIPAA laws, I have no idea if the Ferraros are former patients or personal rich friends of hers.
It’s a super nice and pleasant conversation. But eventually, she leaves, and I have to face the Victor music.
“I didn't know how to tell you,” I explain in the terrible silence after her departure. “Not without it becoming a thing. And I didn't want this baby to become another battle for us to fight. She deserves better than that.”
He considers my words, the look on his face completely unreadable. Then he asks, “Would you ever have told me?”
It’s been a crazy day, and I can feel exhaustion dragging at me. Maybe that's why I tell him the truth, unvarnished and raw. “No, I don’t think I would have. I didn’t trust you not to use this baby as leverage.”
He looks away, then back at me. I still can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“You should eat,” he signs in the end. “Then we'll talk about the next steps.”
Maybe…I finally have a clock, so I check it and do the math. I haven’t had anything to eat since my early dinner with Lena. That was over seven hours ago.
“I am hungry, actually,” I say to him, signing along with my words. It gives me a weird comfort to do so. And the brain doctor mentioned it was a good sign that I hadn’t sustained severe brain damage. “But I'm not even sure the cafeteria is still open.”
“It doesn't matter,” he answers in that finite way of his as if he has god powers that makes everything he signs an intractable truth. “I’ll find you something to eat.”
With that declaration, he leaves me alone for the first time since he arrived at the hospital. All sorts of confusing feelings jumble inside of me as I watch him go. I'm scared about what comes next with Victor. I'm also so relieved that he showed up when I needed him the most.
But I guess the main point is I'm going to be okay. And the baby will be okay too. For now, that's enough.
I must have been a little too relieved. I fall asleep before our big late-night meal talk.