“No intentional direct impact.”
“And how long will you be filming?”
She did some mental calculations. “Between eight and ten more weeks.”
“Then I have good news.”
Zahara’s air left her lungs. “Man, could I use some.”
“Right now,” he said, “your uterus is deep within your pelvic cavity and surrounded by various bones—mainly your pelvic bones and spine. If you’ve ever seen a skeleton, you know that the pelvic bones form a bowl-shaped V in the middle of your body. Your uterus sits deep inside that protective shell.”
Zahara tried to picture the human skeleton.
“At eight weeks, your uterus is about the size of a tennis ball. So it’s very small and well protected. I had a patient who was an Olympic skier, and while she was ten weeks pregnant, she lost control and hit a tree, head-on.”
Zahara grimaced and pulled air through her teeth.
“She broke a few bones, had a nasty concussion, but the pregnancy was perfectly fine. She went on to deliver a healthy baby.”
“Amazing.”
“Right now, short of getting direct and repeated blows to your lower abdomen,” he said, “your pregnancy is safe. However, I would advise you not to tempt fate again by hitting the ground at those speeds. Anything that could jeopardize your life would naturally jeopardize the fetus. Beyond that, the fate of the pregnancy isn’t within your control.”
“What do you mean my control?”
“Nature rules this stage of pregnancy. If there were complications, there would be nothing we could do to save the fetus. Most spontaneous miscarriages occur before the twelfth week and have nothing to do with anything the mother did or didn’t do. The potential drops dramatically thereafter. And you’re in a very low-risk category.”
Mother.
Holy shit, she’d just found a word she hated more than pregnancy. And miscarriage. Mother.
“Well that’s…unsettling.” Every-freaking-thing about this was unsettling.
“I’ve worked with dozens of professional athletes. You’re fit and healthy and young. You’re obviously very skilled at what you do, or you wouldn’t be working on a movie of this caliber. It’s safe for you to continue your regular activities—working out, running, sex, stunts that won’t put sharp or sustained pressure on your abdomen. You also have a retroverted uterus, which just means the largest area, the area where the fetus grows, is tilted toward your back instead of your abdomen.”
She shook her head, baffled by all this new language. “Is that bad?”
“Not at all, just a normal variant. But it will make your pregnancy rest closer to the center of your body instead of out in front of you. That means more safety for the baby, and your pregnancy won’t show as soon. Your abdominal muscles are so well developed, they add another layer of protection. Between that and your body armor, your baby’s encompassed in one hell of a safety net.”
A surge of relief washed through her, shoulders to toes. Zahara huffed a shaky breath and covered her eyes. “I thought you were going to tell me I had to quit.”
“No, no.” He gave her leg a reassuring squeeze. “Keep yourself safe, and you’ll keep the baby safe.”
She managed a laugh and uncovered her eyes. “I may need you to repeat that to a couple dozen people at some point.”
“As long as you give consent, I’ll talk to anyone you want. If you decide to go forward with the pregnancy, I’d like to schedule weekly visits. Normally, that wouldn’t be necessary, but with your profession, I’d like to watch you more closely.”
Damn, now she hated the word decision. She’d never even imagined being pregnant, let alone finding herself pregnant, unmarried and throwing herself out of cars. Being a single mom with her schedule? She couldn’t even fathom.
“Ready for the ultrasound?” Dr. Cardinally asked.
She released a shaky breath. “I guess. Can you ask Despina to come in? She wanted to watch this part.”
“Absolutely.”
While Dr. Cardinally opened the door for Despina, Zahara closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. Her mind darted to Chase. To his fiasco with Lila. To her own pregnancy.
God, if the press got ahold of this…