Page 89 of Shattered Hearts

“Right now?” I murmur, trying to catch her words as my mind reels.

Something might be wrong with my baby?

“Yes. I suggest that you come in once every two weeks for now, and then weekly when we get into the third trimester. This is to monitor your baby’s growth and vital signs to avoid anything else happening.”

My chin dips as bitter bile crawls up my throat. Fingers shaking, I try clamping them shut in an effort to control them, but it’s useless against my burning anxiety. Spine trembling, I feel the uncomfortable heat crawl up my neck.

“A good indicator that your baby is growing is movement. Have you had a lot of movement?” Fiona asks.

My head shakes stiffly. “I haven’t really felt it yet.”

She hums, and I feel the bitterness in my throat. I turned to the side of the bed, vomiting into the small bin that luckily was sitting in the right place. Mum’s hand is on my back, rubbing soothing circles as I empty my stomach. Fiona grabs me some water and tissues.

“Sorry,” I mumble, sipping on the drink that cools my swirling insides.

Fiona gives me a small smile. “You’re fine. It’s a lot to take in.” I nod. “As I was saying, movement is the best indicator. I want you to start tracking it on your phone, every time you feel a kick or something, because we need to know this.”

I nod, glancing at my phone to see a notification that stands out among the dozens of others.

BLONDIE: I know you’re taking your time, and I respect that. Macie told me about the appointment. I hope it goes well.

Sniffing, I look away and Mum pulls me into her arms. Fiona continues to talk about what’s going on and the possible side effects. By the time I’m overcome with tears, both from the news and Grayson’s message, Fiona holds up a small yellow envelope and smiles. “I also have good news, if you want to find out the sex of the baby?”

My throat swallows as I grip onto Mum. I could know. Boy or girl? My heart tells me it’s a boy, but everyone else thinks it’s a girl.

Sniffing, I shake my head. “I don’t want to know.”

“Are you sure?” Mum asks gently.

I nod. “I want to wait to find out.” It feels like the right thing to do.

“Waiting is always fun, it’s my favourite, but we always offer it to those who want to know. But if you’re happy for another surprise”—I don’t miss the cringe in her brows—“then I will put this in your papers.”

“Thank you, Fiona.”

“No problem. I will see you again in two weeks, okay?”

Nodding, she hands me a small card with the time and date of my following appointment, and Mum leads me out of the hospital. Sitting in her tiny car, I pull out my phone and reread Grayson’s message three times before texting Macie.

LAYNIE: I have some news about the baby.

LAYNIE: It’s smaller than they’d like. There might be some complications, but they’re not sure yet. I have to track its movements in the meantime.

MACIE: Oh, I’m so sorry, L.

MACIE: Are you okay?

MACIE: I’ll come see you as soon as I lock up GH.

LAYNIE: Thanks. I don’t want to be alone right now.

MACIE: I’ll be there asap.

MACIE: Have you told G?

LAYNIE: Not yet. I think it’s more of a girl thing right now. We’ll discuss more when I see you.

Macie’s in my arms as soon as she pounds the door down. Mum was startled with how loud Macie’s fist could be, but she pushed past her, tackling me in an embrace that brought tears to my eyes.