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“Hi, Dr. Jenkins,” Daisy said, greeting the fortysomething woman who’d been her primary care physician over the past three years.
“Hi, Daisy,” she said with a smile. “I did a quick read of the nurse’s check-in notes, and I see you haven’t been feeling up to par lately. That you’re more tired than normal and are experiencing bouts of light-headedness and general fatigue.”
She nodded as the other woman set her handheld tablet computer on the counter and washed her hands. “Yes.”
“Your vitals look good,” she said, which the nurse had taken before leaving Daisy in the exam room. “No temperature and your blood pressure is where it should be, and while you’re up five pounds from your last visit, that’s nothing to be concerned about since it could be water retention.”
Yeah, that’s what Daisy was going with, because she’d started to notice that the waistband of her skirts and pants were getting a bit snug.
“So let’s take a listen to your lungs and heart before I pull up your lab results and see what, if anything, is going on.”
Dr. Jenkins pushed the rubber-tipped ends of her stethoscope into her ears and pulled Daisy’s gown just low enough to press the cold, round metal piece to her chest, then her back, while asking her to take deep breaths.
“All good,” her doctor declared, then looped the stethoscope around her neck and reached for her tablet. She pulled up Daisy’s chart, then her lab tests, and scrolled through the results. “Cholesterol and glucose levels are good. Thyroid is right on track, your kidney and liver values are right where they should be, but your iron and vitamin D levels are low, which could be contributing to your fatigue.”
Daisy breathed a major sigh of relief that the reason behind all her symptoms was nothing major while Dr. Jenkins quietly scrolled through the remaining test results. Adding a few vitamin supplements to her morning routine was something she could easily handle.
After a moment, the other woman looked up from her tablet and met Daisy’s gaze. “And . . . well, I’m not sure if this is good news, or a surprise, but you’re also pregnant.”
Daisy blinked at the other woman. “What?” Pregnant? The word bounced around in her head, but it didn’t make sense. “No, that can’t be right. I haven’t missed a period. In fact, I’m due to start any day now. My breasts are sore, I’m bloated . . . ”
Dr. Jenkins didn’t argue but took a more clinical approach. “When was the last time you had intercourse?”
That date was emblazoned in her memory, and she gave it to the other woman, which was almost three months ago.
“You’re not on any kind of contraceptive, so did you use some other form of birth control?” she asked gently.
“Condoms.” Three of them. That was difficult to forget, too, as was how each of them had been used and in what position.
“Well, condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective,” Dr. Jenkins said. “They can break without you or your partner even realizing it.”
“I really don’t think I’m pregnant.” Her heart was racing so fast she was starting to feel a little light-headed, and she desperately tried to grasp onto any reasoning she could. “What about having my periods?”
Her physician’s gaze filled with empathy. “You could be mistaking vaginal bleeding for your periods, which is common in the first trimester.”
“I can’t be pregnant,” she said, more adamantly this time, as if that would make her words true. “I haven’t had any morning sickness . . .” But she was exhausted, her breasts were so sensitive it almost hurt to touch her nipples, she’d been riding a roller coaster of emotions lately, and she’d never had heartburn until now . . . Oh, God, she was pregnant.
Doctor Jenkins must have sensed her impending panic, because she placed a gentle hand on her arm. “How about we do a quick pelvic exam and go from there?” she suggested.
Feeling numb and trying to beat back the anxiety threatening to take hold, Daisy laid back on the table and assumed the position with her feet in the stirrups. Dr. Jenkins did the exam while Daisy blocked out what was happening down below as she stared up at the ceiling, hoping that somehow, someway, those test results had been a false positive—even though she knew she was reaching for an explanation that didn’t exist.
“You’re definitely pregnant,” Dr. Jenkins confirmed as she pulled off her gloves and Daisy slowly sat back up, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry as the realization really sank in.
The other woman picked up her tablet again and made some notes. “Judging by the date you gave me, you’re probably about ten to twelve weeks along, but I’m going to get you in to see Dr. Lane next week, our ob-gyn here, who will give you a better indication of how far along you are after doing a ultrasound. You’ll get to hear the baby’s heartbeat at that time, too.”
“Okay,” she said, feeling as though she was operating on autopilot.
“In the meantime, let’s get you started on a prenatal vitamin to help boost your iron and vitamin D levels, which Dr. Lane will check again in a few weeks. Do you have any questions for me before I go?”
Daisy shook her head and gave her physician a wan smile. “I think I got all the answers that I came here for.”
Her doctor’s features softened with understanding. “I know this isn’t the news you were expecting, but I hope at least it’s a good surprise.”
Daisy couldn’t even answer because of the huge lump in her throat that was preceded by the sting of tears in her eyes. She was so overwhelmed emotionally, and she definitely had a lot of things to figure out.
As soon as she was alone in the exam room again, she got dressed, then picked up her paperwork and was given the appointment date with Dr. Lane for the following week at the checkout counter. Once she was in her car, she navigated the rush-hour traffic on the freeway back to her studio apartment, her thoughts not on Aiden’s reaction to the news—she had no doubt he’d be just as shocked as she was—but her mother’s response when she learned that Daisy was going to have a baby. Because there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that despite this pregnancy not being planned, and the scary changes ahead, she wasn’t giving it up.
But Daisy could already hear Diane Parker’s cynical comments in her head because she’d grown up hearing them often, how her mother had gotten knocked up by Daisy’s father—a man Daisy had never even met since he’d left when she was only a few months old—and how her mother had been forced to give up her dream of becoming a dancer to raise Daisy and had struggled to make end meets on her own. Daisy had been reminded of that sacrifice her mother had made for most of her childhood, and even now when the opportunity arose, as if she’d always been more of a burden to her mother than any kind of blessing.
