She smiles. “About how far long are you, do you think?”
My nose crinkles in thought. “Probably around six almost seven weeks.” I feel a crushing weight on my chest. That would mean I might’ve gotten pregnant the last night Ben was alive. I suddenly feel sick.
“Okay, so newly pregnant then.” She writes something down.
“Well, I don’t think I’m about to give birth in a toilet, if that’s what you mean.” I laugh awkwardly.
“Change into this gown,” she says, pulling one from a drawer. “The doctor will have to do a vaginal ultrasound.”
I pale. “That sounds painful.” I take the gown from her hands.
“It’s not too bad,” she says and stands. “The doctor will be in soon.”
I nod and with one last smile she leaves me alone.
“Breathe, Blaire,” I whisper-hiss to myself. I exhale a long breath and change into the gown. I sit back down and let my now bare legs dangle beneath me. The paper is scratchy beneath me, and I find myself wringing the cotton gown between my fingers. My eyes flicker to the clock above the door. It ticks endlessly as I wait for the doctor arrive.
When the door finally opens I mutter, “Oh thank God,” under my breath. I’d been about to lose my mind.
“Hello, Blaire.” Dr. Hershel smiles pleasantly and washes his hands in the sink. He’s been my doctor for years now. He’s probably in his fifties, with brown hair only beginning to gray at the temples. He has kind green eyes that are always full of laughter.
“Hi,” I squeak. My nerves are through the roof.
“Don’t be nervous,” Dr. Hershel says, drying his hands and tossing the paper towel in the trashcan. The nurse comes in behind him and hands him my folder. “Let’s take a look here,” he mutters, laying the folder aside. He sits down on the stool and begins fiddling with some items hooked up to a monitor.
I’m pretty sure I’m about to throw up.
I wish Ben was here.
He should be here.
This moment belongs to him as much as it does me, and yet here I am, alone. So, fucking alone.
I should’ve let my mom come with me, but it’s not the same.
“Let’s see your baby,” he says.
“Wait,” I hold out my hands, “shouldn’t you do a blood test or something first?”
His lips quirk. “Pregnancy tests rarely lie. We see a lot of false negatives, but they’re usually pretty accurate when it comes to positive.”
I nod. “O-Okay. Proceed.”
He chuckles. “You’re funny, Blaire.” I wasn’t trying to be funny. “Put your legs in the stirrups.”
I cringe. Stirrups. I don’t know why, but I hate that word the way some people hate the word moist. I do as I’m told and lie back with my legs up. Such a flattering position. I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands. I do better if I don’t see what’s happening. I jolt when I feel something slide inside me. Oh, Jesus.
And then a moment later …
I lower my hands and my mouth parts. “Is that?”
“Your baby’s heartbeat?
” Dr. Hershel asks for me. “It is. It’s a bit early to hear the heartbeat, but it’s a strong one. It looks like you’re almost seven weeks pregnant, like you predicted. You see that?” He points to a tiny dark blob that flickers on the screen. “That’s your baby. Congratulations.” He smiles up at me.
I immediately burst into tears.
Happy tears.