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I haven’t been called that in a while. The last doctor I spoke to knew me by a fake name, and all I wanted in that moment was for him to call me Mrs. Isakov. But now that I’m hearing it again, it feels … different.
Everything feels different, having been polluted by Yevgeniy’s words.
Reaching down, I brush my wedding ring. Throughout this entire ordeal, I never removed it. He’s here to check on my baby. Slowly, I allow my shoulders to relax.
“I could be better,” I tell Dr. Helsan. “Things have been hectic.”
He smiles politely. “That’s how life goes sometimes. Now, let’s make sure your little bundle is growing into a big bundle.”
Arsen shakes the man’s hand before leading the way upstairs. I follow closely, moving carefully on the steps. Each step reminds me of that night when my heel wobbled on the edge.
But which specific night? The one with Simon? Or the one with Arsen?
Does it even matter?
In a guest bedroom, Dr. Helsan opens his suitcase. Within minutes, he converts the space into a mini-office. The long table is used to hold a variety of packaged items, and a surgery gown is draped across the bed.
“Go and get changed,” Dr. Helsan instructs me.
Arsen hovers anxiously in the corner while I change. He keeps his eyes away, not peeking at my brief nudity. We’re functioning like strangers instead of worried parents-to-be.
“Please lie down,” the doctor says.
I do exactly that, settling on the blanket. I try to relax, but it’s impossible. Lying down now, I’m made aware of just how tense I am. My spine is static, and my leg muscles cramp as I shift around. Dr. Helsan approaches with the small, familiar fetal Doppler.
I’ve done this already, I think, but not with Arsen. The thought hits me harder than I expect—I’ve heard our baby’s heartbeat. He hasn’t.
Arsen looks across at me. There’s a wordless question he won’t dare speak. Like ice in the glare of a radiant sun, I feel the walls I’ve put up crumbling away.
“Come here,” I say gently and hold out my hand. Slowly, Arsen comes to life, and with long strides, he joins my side. Our fingers find each other, and a familiar heat flows from him to me, chasing away the chill that has enveloped me ever since he took me from that playground.
Together, we watch the screen next to the table.
Gently, Dr. Helsan gently runs the Doppler over my belly. The black-and-white scribbles on the screen shift like boiling water. Slowly, a shape forms, and a familiar pulsing echo fills the room. My baby’s heartbeat floods me with warmth, and I feel Arsen squeezing my fingers when he recognizes the sound.
“There we are,” Dr. Helsan says kindly. “Your baby is doing just fine. Just fine. Happy and healthy as far as I can tell.”
“Really?” I ask, staring at the screen. After all I’ve endured, it’s hard to accept some good news.
Air rushes from Arsen’s lips loudly. He sounds like he’s been holding that one breath for hours.
“Our baby,” he says in awe.
My eyes find his. Even without speaking, mutual relief and joy pass through us. He smiles, and I feel my own eyes crinkling as the same gesture breaks on my face. My nose stings, and as much as I don’t want to cry, I can’t hold back the tears.
Dr. Helsan passes me some wipes to clean off the ultrasound gel. After cleaning myself up, I start to rise, but stop when a wave of exhaustion pins me to the bed. Arsen gently takes my elbow, and his voice is laced with worry.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I say earnestly. “I just realized how tired I am. Is that hot bath still an option?”
“Of course it is. I can have Olesya draw it for you.”
“No need,” I tell him. “I can do it myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
