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Leo was right. The two weeks passed relatively quickly. Before I knew it, I was back in his office complex, sitting in a chair with my arm tied off and squeezing a ball for the phlebotomist.
“Take a few breaths, Ms. Saunders,” she said. “You’re shaking like crazy, and your veins are hard enough to find as it is.”
“Sorry,” I said, but I was nervous. Or excited. I couldn’t decide which and, at the moment, I wasn’t sure there was a difference. I followed her instructions and looked away as she inserted the needle into my arm, collecting a vial of blood before bandaging me up.
“Stay seated until you’re ready to get up,” she instructed. “And if you start to feel lightheaded, sit back down.”
I nodded, but if I was excited/nervous before the blood draw, I was even more so now.
“How long until I get the results?” I asked.
The phlebotomist looked at me and then looked at the paperwork again.
“Oh, I see,” she said. “No more than 48 hours, depending on how bad the lab is backed up.”
“Is there any way it could be rushed?”
“Honey,” she said, “if you want to be a mom, you’re going to need to learn a little bit of patience. Think of this as practice.”
I gave her a scowl, which she ignored. Of course I would need to be patient, but now wasn’t the time for that. I’d have nine months to learn more patience. Or maybe I wouldn’t even need to learn patience, depending on how this turned out. I marched out of the room, not feeling woozy in the slightest, and called Leo.
He answered before the second ring.
“What do you need?”
“Can you rush the results of the blood test?”
He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll get back to you.”
* * *
When Leo came home, I was cuddling with Bagel as usual. She’d become pretty quickly acclimated to the schedule we were on. It was now at the point where she didn’t need a person to be near her every second of the day, and we could leave her for an hour or two.
I jolted up and asked, “Did you get the results?”
“I told them to rush them and try and get them in before the end of the day,” he told me. “I last checked before leaving the office but let me check the portal and see if anything’s changed.”
He pressed a few buttons on his phone.
“How was your day?” I asked, trying to fill the empty silence with anything other than discomfort.
“Fine,” he said.
The page loaded on his phone and he pressed a few buttons. I couldn’t stand still, and I was dancing in place like a toddler who had to pee.
“Okay,” he said, with a slight smile on his face.
“Is that a good smile, or did someone just text you a meme?”
He looked at me and I could tell it from his eyes. But it didn’t become real until he actually uttered the words aloud.
“The implantation took,” he said.
I jumped forward and hugged him so hard that Bagel leapt up, too, wanting to join in on the celebration.
“But!” he interjected.
“But?”
