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But—
“What about the surgery?” I demand. “She can’t have surgery when she’s pregnant, can she?”
Dr. Spellman smiles, and this time it fills her eyes.
“While there is some risk to the embryo, there’s no reason to think your pregnancy would be in danger from the surgery. At this point, there’s more risk to you and the baby by not having the surgery. While an appendectomy is a fairly simple procedure—we won’t even keep you in the hospital longer than a night—a serious infection can not only cause damage to your pregnancy, it could potentially end your life.”
My hands are shaking again.
“The surgeons will be nowhere near your uterus, and with the laparoscopy, you barely need any stitches. Have no fear, as long as all goes well, and there’s absolutely no reason to think otherwise, everyone will be just fine.”
“Pregnant,” Julia says again.
This time her voice is dripping with emotion. There’s a trembling undertone, and happiness all but drips in the way she stretches out the single word to encompass so much more.
“Well,” the doctor says, rising from her perch. “You never know how these sorts of announcements are going to go, which is why we ask to speak to the women alone. There are several different options for an unexpected pregnancy, and I firmly believe in a woman’s body, a woman’s choice. But it seems like this was a pleasant surprise.”
Julia giggles again, and Justin beams, standing to kiss her on the forehead.
I try to smile, but it feels brittle and broken on my face.
The doctor reaches out to shake our hands, placing a comforting palm on Julia’s shoulder.
“They’ll be by shortly to move you to pre-op. You’ll be able to go with her,” she says to us, “then they’ll show you both to the waiting room until Mrs. Williams is in recovery. Do you have any questions for me?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
“Too many to ask,” Julia laughs.
“Well, if I don’t see you again, good luck,” the doctor smiles. “And congratulations.”
With that, the woman who just changed all our lives leaves the room, unknowing about the damage she just caused.
“Pregnant,” Julia repeats, and Justin’s enthusiasm can no longer be contained.
“Pregnant!” he all but shouts.
I swallow back my rising bile.
7
JUSTIN
An hour, they said.
An hour for the surgery and a half-hour in recovery before we can see her. Make it two hours total to be safe. The nurse points us to the waiting room with a distracted smile, placid for the worried lovers or whatever she thinks we are, but her mind is already caught up in things more important than us.
I fall into a chair, my mind running a thousand miles a second.
Julia fell asleep almost the millisecond the doctor left, and the person to wheel her to pre-op showed up just a few minutes after that. We didn’t bother to go back with her. I didn’t want to risk waking her up, and the nurse said they were going to start pumping her with more things to make her groggy anyway.
I can't say that when Julia woke up complaining about her stomach hurting this morning, I was expecting to end the day in the hospital waiting room contemplating our impending parenthood.
I cover my mouth with the palm of my hand, holding back my laughter.
The last time she was sick, I was indignant on her behalf for the stereotypical reaction that a woman of childbearing age is always assumed to be knocked up the minute she gets a little queasy.
