I need to drink some water, maybe some juice. “Are you okay?” Emma asks as I turn to walk to the staff room, but I turn back to look at her. My head turns slowly as I see spots of black around. “Dr. Walker.” I hear being yelled. I hear commotion all around me when my legs give out, and I fall to the floor.
“What’s wrong with her?” I hear Gabe yelling.
“She was complaining about the heat.” I hear Emma say and feel my body being lifted and laid on a table.
“I want a cold cloth.” I hear Gabe say, and my eyes open. My stomach feels like I’m going to be sick.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I say softly, blinking open my eyes.
“You’re awake,” Gabe says, coming to my side and brushing my hair from my face.
“Step aside, son.” I hear Dr. Walker Sr. say.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he hisses.
“Calm down,” he tells him, coming to me. “Okay, what happened?”
“She fainted,” Gabe yells from next to me, his face now white as the worry sets in. He comes to my side, holding my hand and bringing it to his lips.
His father looks at him and smiles. “Well, this answers a whole bunch of questions.” He smiles at me. “Now, Crystal, tell us what happened.”
“I’m fine.” I try to get up and my head pounds, so I lie back down. “I’m just hungry. I haven’t eaten today or actually yesterday. I wasn’t feeling well.” I avoid making eye contact. “I’m sure once I eat something, I’ll be fine.”
Dr. Walker takes my blood pressure. “It’s a little high, but considering all this commotion, that’s normal. I’m going to order some blood work just to be safe,” he says, calling Mia. “Is there anything else you feel besides the hot flash?” he asks, taking his stethoscope to listen to my heartbeat. “Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.”
“That sounds good,” he says and then moves to my stomach, palpating it, and I hiss in pain. “Have you had stomach tenderness before today?”
I shake my head, looking up at Gabe, his face still white. “Get the ultrasound machine,” he yells.
“Son, you really need to calm down.” He walks over to him. “She’s fine.”
The door opens when Emma comes in with the ultrasound machine. “She looks a bit better.” She hands me some apple juice. “Thought you could use some sugar maybe.”
“Thank you.” I reach out and take it from her, finishing it all in one shot. “This is silly, Dr. Walker. I already feel better.”
“Dear.” He looks at me, then at his son. “For everyone’s sake, why don’t we just humor him?”
“Fine, but no blood test,” I say, closing my eyes.
“We’ll see,” he says, folding his arms over his chest.
Dr. Walker turns off the lights and comes over to me on his stool. I raise my top and lower my scrub bottoms a bit. He squeezes the blue gel on my stomach, places the wand on my stomach, and we all look at the black screen.
I don’t know what I’m looking for, but what I get isn’t what I was expecting. “Oh, well.” I hear him say as I look at the screen. The picture on the little monitor has me mesmerized because it’s impossible. Tears flow down my cheeks, and I don’t even care. “I’m not a professional, but I’d say that’s a baby.”
“It can’t be,” I whisper. “I’m infertile.”
“I can assure you that isn’t the case.” He laughs, moving the machine around on my stomach, and we see two feet and two hands.
I look at Gabe, who has his own tears coming down his face. “A baby.” He looks at the screen, and his father turns on the sound. The sound of horses galloping fills the room. And I laugh. Joy, complete and utter joy.
My heart feels like it’s going to come out of my chest. “They told me that I would never have kids, that my body was going into menopause when I was nineteen.” I look at Gabe. “They said I would never be able to have children. I have no eggs.”
“Well, I can happily say they are wrong,” Dr. Walker says.
“I can’t believe this,” I whisper, my eyes never leaving the screen.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t going away. I was giving you today, then I was coming for you.” He comes close to kiss my lips softly. “We’re having a baby.” And I lose it and sob while he holds me.
“I think I’ll give you two a minute,” his father says. Grabbing his son on his shoulder, he says, “Congratulations, son.”
He grabs my hand, kissing it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”
“Can you check again?” I ask him. “Just to make sure.”
“Anything,” he says, grabbing the machine and turning it on. The sound of the heartbeat fills the room again. “Let us see what we have here.” The baby flips over from back to front, and I actually feel flutters. “I wonder how far along you are?”