“Do you mind turning around for a second so I can undress and get the sheet on?”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise; the nurse had explained all this, but he’s probably a bit out of his element here. Hell, I work in healthcare and this is all a bit overwhelming today. “Sorry, I guess I should have thought of that when she talked about it all. Yeah, I’ll turn around.” He doesn’t hesitate, and spins on his heels.
Immediately I take off my bottoms and fold them up, tucking my underwear in my pants. It’s silly that I feel weird about it, considering the doctor is about to do a very thorough exam, but I’d like to keep some of my dignity.
I hop up on the bed and toss the sheet over my bare thighs. “Okay, I am decent.”
He turns around and tries to give me a smile. “Sorry, I am a bit out of my wheelhouse here.”
“This is my first time, too, Rhett. It’s okay.” I do my best to make my smile reassuring.
Doctor Norris, our physician for the time being, knocks twice before she comes into the room as soon as we are settled.
We met her briefly as we were playing fifty questions with the nurse. She’s young, bright, and cheery, which somehow helps ease my anxiety.
It’s weird to be on the other side of this. To be the patient. I’ve never been critically ill, just coughs and colds growing up. And unlike my dumbass brother, I didn’t take too many unnecessary risks, which means no sutures or frequent ER visits. This is the first time I've ever been scared in a doctor’s office.
The thin sheet covering my exposed lower body rustles as I reposition myself.
“Alright, hon, let’s get your feet up in the stirrups and get that due date figured out.”
Rhett scootches his chair closer to mine, interlacing our fingers.
My heart immediately begins to race. This isn’t at all what I had planned, but now that it’s here. I want it. I’ve seen first hand how touch and go the first few weeks of pregnancy can be. I close my eyes tight and pray that I’ll see a healthy little baby on that screen.
The doctors speaks up, voice soft and soothing. “Alright, you’re going to feel my hand, and then the probe. We use warm gel, so hopefully that makes it a bit more comfortable for you. If anything hurts, or you need a second, don't hesitate to speak up, okay?”
“Okay,” I answer, squeezing Rhett’s hand. He squeezes it back and my heart warms.
The discomfort of a transvaginal ultrasound completely dissipates when I see the screen. There is a whole baby in there. Which of course there would be a baby; that test was very positive. I just know how fast that can change.
I study the screen, noticing just how big our baby is. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an ultrasound, but I know this isn’t a six-week fetus. There is a distinct head and body.
“I’m going to get a read on the heartbeat,” she says.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to hear the whooshing sound. Time feels like it’s moving in slow motion as I prick up my ears, waiting for that sweet sound. Within seconds it fills the room and settles into me. I’ll remember this sound for the rest of my life. It’s a strong heartbeat. It’s my baby.
“Heart rate is great and very strong. How far did you think you were?” she asks, moving the probe to get better images.
I turn to look at her, seeing the puzzled look on her face as she draws her eyebrows together as she looks around more.
“I wasn’t sure maybe six or eight weeks? My cycles aren’t regular on my birth control.”
She smiles. “I’m going to switch to an abdominal ultrasound, baby is a bit big for what we're working with.”
I try to make sense of it all. How the hell did I miss being pregnant for what looks like at least three months? I look to Rhett for the first time and his face is ghostly white. “Are you okay?” I whisper.
“Yeah, you?” He tears his eyes away from the screen to look at me. He tries to give a smile, but I have received so many of his real smiles in our time together that I could spot his fake, polite smile a mile away.
I nod as the doctor puts the gel on my stomach and starts again. “I’m just taking measurements, but from the looks of it, you’re at least twelve weeks, maybe even fourteen. Once the radiologist reads your scans and I get his report back, I will have my nurse call you.”
“Okay,” Rhett and I answer in unison, fingers still laced, as we watch our little baby on the screen.
“I’ll get all the measurements and then the lab work so we can know more for our follow-up appointment in a month. Did you guys opt in for genetic testing?”
“Does something look wrong?” Rhett asks, his voice laced with worry.
“Oh, not at all. Your baby looks great. I’m just making notes so at your twenty-week ultrasound, they’ll know if they need to be on the lookout for anything.” She smiles warmly at us and I nod.
