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“Stop it,” Ella says.
“What?”
“Stop beating yourself up. You’ve been amazing. Just…stop.”
Our conversation is put on hold when Doctor Sanchez inserts the ultrasound wand and moves it around, making the gray images on the screen move along with it. She rubs a hand on Ella’s stomach. “Any tenderness here?”
Ella cringes and squirms on the table. “Yes, right there.”
The doctor snaps a few images and continues moving the wand before holding it still. She points to a white dot amid the gray. “This is your fallopian tube. That’s where the pregnancy is.”
“Wait, what?” Ella drops my hand and pushes up onto her elbows to see the screen better. “Hang on. Is that even possible?” I peer at the small dot and feel a surge of emotion. That could be a baby. It could be family.
Ella stares at the dot, and I wonder if she’s thinking it too.
“It’s called an ectopic pregnancy. It happens sometimes when the egg gets fertilized and doesn’t make it to the uterus. It’s not viable.”
“It’s not--?” Ella looks defeated. “So I’m…not pregnant?”
Doctor Sanchez starts rattling off medical information about the two percent of pregnancies that are ectopic and the danger it can pose, especially if it goes untreated because the tube can rupture. “So we need to take care of this now.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. It’ll be okay,” I whisper, brushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes.
“Will it?”
I have no idea, but she’s looking to me for support, and I want to give her everything I have. “Yes. Whatever you need. I’m here. Not going anywhere.”
Nodding, Ella looks away, and I see her eyes fill with tears. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to get pregnant. So…”
“I know…”
“It’s just…I didn’t even get the choice…”
I lean over her and hug her tight, wishing I could absorb all the stress and fear from her body and transfer it to mine. It’s how I’ve always felt about her. I just want to protect her from the world.
“Um, gown’s open in the front…” Ella makes a feeble attempt at a laugh, and I back away so she can pull the gown closed. She looks at me. “Maybe somehow…this is a good thing?”
I smooth her hair. “I think so, sweetie. Right?”
Nodding, she blinks back tears. “It’s the right thing.” She swallows hard, and I reach into my tote bag for a bottle of water. She takes a sip and exhales a long breath. “Okay. This is going to be okay.”
The doctor is busy typing on her iPad. A moment later, a nurse in hot pink scrubs enters the room with a tray containing a syringe and several vials. Doctor Sanchez accepts the tray wordlessly in one hand while holding the iPad in the other.
“This is going to be fine.” The doctor’s tone sounds slightly more caring, and she smiles at Ella, who manages a half-hearted smile in return. “I’m going to inject a medication that will stop the cells from multiplying, and you’ll come back in a couple days to see how well it’s working.”
Ella dries her eyes and sits up. It’s the first time I’ve seen a glimmer of relief on her face since she first saw the little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test. I know she wants to have kids someday, but with two years of college left, it would be challenging.
“That’s it?” Ella asks.
The doctor nods. “Fingers crossed. If the cells reduce, it could pass on its own. If that doesn’t happen, you’ll need surgery, which most likely we’ll be able to do laparoscopically.”
At my sister’s confusion, she clarifies. “Through a tiny incision with a scope.” My stomach seizes at the mention of surgery. I need my sister to be okay, and the thought of her undergoing surgery terrifies me.
Doctor Sanchez washes her hands at the metal sink and dries them. “Get something in your stomach after the injection, and I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
“Okay,” Ella says. I simply nod because the lump in my throat won’t budge, and I don’t want to cry.
The doctor gives Ella some instructions and sweeps from the room with her nurse in tow, leaving us alone.
