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“I’ve got the portable sonogram here with me,” he replies without missing a beat. “I’m going to need someone to run down to the nearest pharmacy and pick those things up. I want to take a blood sample.”
Sam gives him a curt nod and hurries out of the room.
She returns as he’s perched on the side of the bed, two cold and gnarled fingers pressed to my wrist. His dark eyes regard me intently. With a frown, the doctor takes out a penlight and shines it directly into my eyes. I flinch and try to get away from him. Anita emerges, and she and Sam stand on either side of me, doing their best to keep me in place.
“I’m sorry, Isabella,” Sam whispers, her voice trailing off towards the end. “You need help, and we can’t leave you like this anymore.”
I glance between the two of them, my lips dry and my tongue heavy.
Anita leaves the room when the doorbell rings and returns with a plastic bag full of syringes and empty vials. Without looking at me, she hands the bag over to the doctor who rips the syringe pack open. He snaps on a pair of bright blue latex gloves and then flicks the tip of the syringe. When Anita stands opposite Sam, the two of them hold down my arm, and I grow absolutely still.
I feel the pinch before I see it, and my entire body seizes.
I glance down and see the syringe full of bright red blood, and it makes me woozy. With a hiss, I squeeze my eyes shut. A long moment later, the syringe leaves my arm, and I feel the doctor press a piece of cotton there. He lifts my arm up so the cotton is wedged against my upper arm and the crook of my elbow.
“I’ll fast-track these results. In the meantime, let’s check on the baby.”
Together, Anita and Sam release their vice-like grip, and my eyes fly open. I fix my gaze on the doctor, who sets up his portable sonogram and takes out a tube of gel. After squeezing it onto my stomach, the cool liquid cold against my flushed skin, he takes out another instrument. For a long moment, no one says anything, and we all keep our attention on the monitor.
Tears prick the back of my eyes when nothing happens. My breath catches in my throat as Sam hurries to drape an arm over my chest. More and more of my spirit wilts at the silence, the deafening silence that won’t leave me.
Finally, we all hear the heartbeat, and I bury my face in my hands and burst into tears. My shoulders are heaving and shaking as Sam squeezes my shoulders. The doctor is saying something else, but I’m too relieved to care.
I’m about to drift off again when I feel his hand on my arm again.
He pinches my skin between his thumb and forefinger, and I hiss at the contact. Then, another syringe pierces my skin, and I whimper. Slowly, I remove my free arm from around my face and look over at Sam, who has guilt written all over her features. She is biting on her bottom lip and refusing to meet my gaze again.
“What did you do?”
“Your family explained the details of your condition to me, so I brought along something useful. It won’t have any kind of effect on the baby, don’t worry.”
I swallow. “What is it?”
“Something to help you relax,” the doctor replies after a brief pause. “You should be checking in with your OB-GYN about vitamins for yourself and the baby.”
I clear my throat. “Is my baby okay?”
“Yes, would you like to know the sex of your baby?”
My breath hitches in my throat. “Can I?”
The doctor nods and smiles. “Your healthy and beautiful little girl is just fine.” He shoves the remaining supplies into his briefcase and snaps it shut. “However, and I don’t want to alarm anyone, but Isabella might need to go to the hospital for a blood transfusion.”
Anita steps forward and folds her arms over her chest. “Why?”
“She’s anemic. Now, Isabella isn’t at the point where it’s serious yet, but I’d like everyone to keep an eye on her in case she takes a turn. In a case like hers, even the smallest amount of blood loss during delivery could be dangerous.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Is there anything we can do to prevent that from happening?”
The doctor pauses and takes out his notepad. His pen clicks on, and he scribbles something else down. “I’m going to write down the name of a colleague of mine, an OB-GYN. She’s one of the best in the business, and she’ll probably recommend a blood transfusion prior to delivery.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Anita replies, with a quick look in my direction. “Does your colleague make home visits?”
“I’m sure it can be arranged.”
Their voices drift away, and Sam perches on the edge of the bed. She takes both of my hands in her, and I don’t protest.
Nor do I stop her.
