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I tried to tell myself I was being dramatic, that he’d call eventually. But when I woke up, my stomach was hurting, and I felt sick. I was worried. I felt sure something was wrong. Was my baby okay?
I picked up my phone. Here was Jake’s chance. I rang him.
He didn’t pick up.
I sighed. Okay. If he didn’t want to see me, I was going to see the person whose job it was to look after me.
I called Dr. Knightly.
“Dr. Knightly? How are you?”
“Me?” She sounded like she was thinking about it. “I’m good, I guess. How are you, Alicia? What can I help you with?”
“The thing is, I, uh, I’ve been having some abdominal pain. It’s pretty bad.”
“I see. Any spotting or bleeding?”
“No, nothing like that. But I’m worried.”
“Well, mom knows best. Want to see me?”
“Sure thing. There’s just one problem. How am I going to get down to your office feeling like this?”
“Well, you don’t have to. I can come straight to you, right?”
“You can?”
“If you like, I can be with you in an hour, hour, and a half?”
I sighed with relief. “You’re amazing. Thank you so much for doing this, Dr. Knightly.”
“My pleasure,” she said. “Hang tight.”
In the end, it took two hours for her to get here. I was hunched over on a chair for most of it, but the spasms had passed by the time Dr. Knightly arrived.
“Let’s get you into your bed,” she said.
She supported me with one arm while we walked slowly up the stairs. Even if the pain had subsided somewhat, it was still lingering. I didn’t know this kind of thing could happen when you got pregnant, but I supposed that my body was changing a lot. Eventually, Dr. Knightly got me into bed. The bed where, two nights before, Jake had been holding me in his arms. It wasn’t exactly the most comforting prospect.
“Okay,” she said. “Does that hurt?”
I shook my head.
“Good. How’s this?”
“Oh yeah,” I said as I flinched. “That hurts. That friggin’…hurts.”
Dr. Knightly sat back after a while and thought for a moment. She looked down at my body, then looked off into the distance. It was like she was waiting for me to speak.
“What is it?” I said slowly. “What’s … the problem?”
Dr. Knightly said nothing but raised her eyebrows.
“Dr. Knightly, please. You scare me when you don’t talk. What’s the matter?”
“It’s stress,” she said quickly.
“Stress?” I replied. Stress wasn’t exactly the easiest answer to hear. How did stress make me feel this way?
