Page 48 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

The doctor—a new one this time—pointed at the 3Ddiagram of a uterus with his index finger. He moved down where the cervix waslabeled and pointed.

“Part of the problem that caused this late miscarriagewas the placenta previa. It covered part of the neck of your cervix, Emma,which would explain the occasional spotting you reported to your doctor. He hadit marked on your file for the ultrasound technician to check when that cameabout, but you didn’t make it that far. It should have been picked up, but theplacenta might have grown larger, covering part of the cervix, after the amnio-ultrasound,and here we are.”

Emma stayed quiet in the chair across from the doctor,unsure of what to say. It felt better when she said nothing at all, frankly.

“And that was it?” Affonso asked beside her.

“No. We discovered something else that probably wouldhave caused us some issues or concerns later on in the pregnancy.”

“Which was what?”

“Emma,” the doctor said quietly, directing hisstatement directly at her and not Affonso.

She didn’t look up from her lap. “Yes?”

“You have what we call a weak cervix. It’s oftencaused by a shortened neck of the uterus, making the cervix thinner than itshould be. When the baby, or say a placenta, begins to put pressure down on thecervix, it starts to open prematurely.”

“What does that mean?” Affonso asked.

The doctor sighed. “It means that any futurepregnancies Emma might have are considered high risk. There is something we cando, but like anything, it comes with risks, and—”

“So this will happen again?” Affonso interrupted.

“It’s possible that nearing the eighteen to twentyweek mark in a future pregnancy, her cervix may start to open. But like I wastrying to say, we can put a—”

Affonso stood fast from his chair, his expression ablank slate and his eyes cold. “Thank you. Emma, I’ll be in the car. Wheneveryou’re ready.”

Emma didn’t bother to say goodbye to her husbandbefore he went. Once the door was closed, she felt better. The farther awayAffonso was from her, the better it was. Alone with the fertility specialist,Emma finally felt like she could speak safely to ask her questions.

She just didn’t know where to start. A week after herdelivering the baby boy, she was still walking around in a daze half of thetime. She had been released from the hospital only two days after and sent homewith instructions about blood clots, and other things she didn’t care to thinkabout.

“This miscarriage is unrelated to the first,” thedoctor said quietly. “I looked over the bloodwork and tissue samples that weretaken from the first.”

“And?” Emma asked.

“There was definitely some hormonal issues that were acause for concern. It’s never a definite at that early of a stage. That’s theproblem with early terminations. We can never quite say for sure what theproblem likely was. This time, however, we know.”

“And it will happen again.”

“It’s likely.”

“So I am broken,” she mumbled.

“No, not broken. There’s a procedure we can do—astitch we can put in your cervix, and add in bedrest to that, and it’s probablethat you can carry to term, or very close to it.”

“But it’s not a guarantee.”

“Nothing is,” the doctor said softly.

Wasn’t that the truth?

She had a baby to bury.

Her body was useless.

She didn’t even want to get out of bed.

Affonso wouldn’t look at her, not that she gave afuck.