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Chapter 17
The best things in life, happen unexpectedly. - Shawna Fisher
Natasha
Anton is out of town on business again, and I am taking the time to take care of myself. That includes a much-needed trip to the OB/GYN. Let’s be honest, this is like the worst time of year when I have to go and get myself checked, but it is a necessity. I realize the importance of caring for my body, and luckily, so did Anton when I told him I had to make an appointment. He didn't protest about me going alone or letting me use the car, though, of course, a couple of goons had to ride shotgun to make sure I was safe and all that. Between being known as Clan Balan’s whore, and I am my father’s daughter, part of me doubts I could ever be in danger again, but I need to pick my battles with Anton. It’s really not a big deal as long as they do not insist on going back into the office with me.
When we pull up to the building it looks huge, it’s apparently inside of a hospital, so there are floors going for several feet into the sky. It creeps me out a little. I am just one of those people who feels weirded out by hospitals, but when I walk through the doors and hear music and see what it looks like, it doesn't feel like that at all. In fact, it feels more like a nice hotel. Miami just keeps getting better and better.
I read the sign that tells me which level the OB/GYN office I am looking for is on and see that it’s on the fourth, so I wait for the elevator to take me up and let me off along with a blonde nurse whose nose is in her phone.
I follow the signs to room 408, where the name on the door lets me know I have reached my destination. I am glad to see at this time of day, early in the afternoon on a weekday, I am one of only two women in the waiting room. The thing I hate the most about going to see a doctor is the fact that sometimes I have to wait for so long with nothing to do. Sure, I have my phone, but I am not really a game person. Though, I do like to read on occasion.
I don't wait long, and I end up being called back by a sweet looking woman with a bun piled at the top of her head. She had a bright smile and it about a head shorter than me. “Right this way,” she tells me, and I can hear the trace of Hispanic heritage in her accent like many people here in Miami. She points to the scale, and I get on, ignoring whatever number pops up. I know better. See, I like my fucking curves, and no number is going to rule my life. So, I just leave that to the doctor to worry about.
Next, she leads me to the next stop of my trip around the office, straight to the bathroom. “I am sure you already know the run down, but I have to give it to you,” she says with a little laugh. She’s right. I have been hearing this one since I was 16. “Please, use two alcohol swabs to clean the area and then use one of the cups to collect a sample for us. When you are done with it, there is a small metal door you can place it in after writing your name on the label in sharpie. Then, you may flush, wash your hands, and meet me right back out here.” I nod, and the nurse smiles through the awkward moment. I could never be a fucking doctor just for all the awkwardness, and then add in people getting sick and dying and I really couldn't do it. I see enough pain and death in my world but to add other people’s problems to it? Nope. I certainly commend those who perform this service.
I follow her instructions as second nature, knowing this is just necessary. It tells them a lot about my health, though I have luckily never had anything come up. I wash my hands thoroughly when I am done and come out to meet the nurse who still has that smile on her face. Is she that happy, or just really good at faking it?
I follow her to the room right across from the bathroom and have a seat on the exam bed just like I am a little kid. My feet still don't quite reach the floor even at my age. “I am just going to go over some history questions with you since we don't have any medical information on you. I know it can be hard to know some of them, but just answer what you do know.”
I nod and go into a mind-numbing state of boredom as we talk about every medical problem myself or my family ever has including the fact that my mother is dead, that she killed herself when I was a toddler. I used to feel a little guilty about that, somehow, I have always felt like I was the reason she killed herself.
Finally, we move on to the next part, getting my blood taken, and I am a good patient as I sit perfectly still and don't look over at the blood they are taking from my arm. I just let them do their job with minimal interference because I know this will get me out of here faster and back home… home did I just say that?
“Okay, hun, that's my cue. The doctor will be here any minute to talk about all the results we find and your general health. You can also ask her about birth control if you need it.” I nod and smile as if she is being helpful because she believes she is. I am sure there are other women she does help every day, so I say nothing but exude gratitude before being left alone in the room to wait it all out.
I start humming to myself, a Halsey song that reminds me of my life a little bit, when the doctor knocks on the door before coming in. She is wearing that signature white coat and only a half-smile as she comes up to me to shake my hand. “Hi, I am Doctor Vellis, it is nice to meet you.”
I shake her hand lightly and nod. “Yes, nice to meet you too.”
“So, everything in your history looks pretty good, no uterine or ovarian cancer in your family and no history of abnormal pap smears. You have been on some type of birth control for many years which is also a way to reduce your risk. I commend you for taking good care of yourself as well. All of your vitals and blood work were perfect. I do have a bit of news for you, though,” the doctor says, looking more serious as she looks down at her chart.
I look at her and wait for the information, feeling a little lost as to what it could be when she was just praising me for my sexual health. What she says does not even cross my mind at all as a possibility.
“I tested your urine and it is showing positive for pregnancy. Did you know you were pregnant?” the doctor asks, and my mouth goes instantly dry. I shake my head because it is all I can do while I process this information. I am in complete shock. I know it is almost time, like a few months away, from removing the implant in my arm but I expected it to work. This is not what I was coming to this appointment for at all. It looks like getting that removed is going to be happening now.
“That’s alright. These things are mostly a surprise these days. I would like to bring the ultrasound machine in here and just check to confirm and then see how far along you are, if you don't mind?” Doctor Vellis continues.
“That’s fine,” I say, finding my voice once again, though it doesn't even sound like me. I am not taking this well. Like, I know this is not the end of the world or the worst thing that can happen to me, but I am just in shock. I can’t think.
The machine comes in by way of the nurse, smaller than I expected it to be with a little screen on the side of it so I can see if I want. I let them lay me back in the seat and pull my shirt up so they can put that wand down with the blue goo on the end of it. It is cold when it first hits me, and I suck in a breath. It starts warming to my body a bit as she glides it along my lower abdomen. The lights dim, the nurse lowering the brightness in the room, and I am suddenly bombarded with a sound, foreign yet completely familiar. It is a heartbeat, but it doesn't belong to me.
I turn my head to look at the screen, and I am greeted with movement by a small fuzzy picture on the screen. It takes me a moment to register that this is a baby. Not that it looks exactly like one yet, but it is clearly a life form, and it is bouncing around in there like it is at a carnival. I just can’t believe it, and suddenly, I have about a million questions.
I look to the doctor, and she smiles as she takes the wand away and types a few things before cleaning me up and pulling my shirt back down. I am allowed to sit up as I sort out all the things I want to know in my brain. I prioritize them and make sense of them, pulling the questions out of my mouth. “How long until I know if it is a boy or a girl? How do I keep it safe and healthy? What do I need to stop or start doing?” I have never read that book, the one that tells you all these things, and I have never had my mother around to really tell me about this part of being a woman. I am scared shitless.
“Just take a deep breath, Natasha,” the doctor says calmly, and I do. I know I need to before I am in a full-on panic attack. “Most first-time mothers have a lot of worries and a lot of questions. We have some brochures here to read that you can go home with. What I can tell you right now is you are at about 5 weeks. For that, the baby is measuring perfectly and is very active as he or she should be. It will be a several weeks before you can know the sex of the baby. As far as anything else, we will give you some prenatal vitamins today to take home. Take them every day. Don’t get in a hot tub, and don’t eat raw foods. Don’t do anything with a danger of being hit in the abdomen. That's it. Our bodies are not as fragile as we think sometimes,” she says warmly.
I nod, feeling overwhelmed by all the information I just received in really only a few minutes time. I stay silent as I am handed brochures, a bottle of pills to take, and an appointment to come back for another ultrasound in 15 weeks after my implant is removed.
I stuff it all in my purse for now as I run to the bathroom on the way out. I need to get myself together because I can’t go out there acting like anything is wrong. The goons don't need to know I am pregnant with Anton’s child any more than Anton needs to know right now.
I take a deep breath and splash my face with cold water before dabbing it dry with the brown paper towels they have hanging here. I know I need to get out there, but my brain is so jumbled right now, I don’t know what to do. I honestly don’t know how I feel about this whole being pregnant thing. I am still mad at Anton for all the things he has done, even if we did have sex again. It doesn't just wipe away all the wrongdoing. We still have a long way to go. This is why I can’t tell him yet because I need to know how I truly feel beyond stunned, before I let him in on this fun development.
I leave the office and walk out to the car, letting one of the goons help me in before he gets in the front again. The goons say nothing as they drive me back, and nothing feels out of the ordinary. They must still think it was a routine appointment, nothing is wrong. Now, I just have to make sure I don’t act differently around Anton so this stays a secret until I am ready. It might be hard with the way he seems to read my fucking mind sometimes, but I don’t have a choice. This is my body and my burden. I have to be okay with it. I have to know what I want first.
I lay my head against the cool glass of the window as I process the news. This is not exactly the ideal time to be pregnant, but in reality, is there ever an ideal time? Even those trying often find that they get pregnant too soon or later than they expected. The universe is fickle that way and no one gets what they want when they want it.
