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I shake my head slowly, trying to wrap my head around what he’s saying.
I’m pregnant.
I’m pregnant.
Holy, motherfucking shit. I’m pregnant.
“I’m sorry,” he says, wincing. “It’s been a busy day, and I wasn’t thinking.” He scrubs his forehead. “Let me start over.” He sits in the chair Raelyn just vacated, who left to go find us some food. “According to the bloodwork, you’re pregnant.”
“Is it...” I clear my throat. “Is it possible you have the wrong patient?” I glance over at his chart. “I’m Eliza Bardot.”
He looks down at his chart and back up. “Yes, I have the right patient, and based on your hCG levels, I’m guessing you’re probably around six weeks pregnant.”
“Okay.” I nod emphatically, trying like hell not to freak the fuck out. “Is it possible the tests got mixed up? Like, maybe my bloodwork got mixed up with someone else’s and now some poor woman who was hoping to be pregnant has no idea that she actually is?”
The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches, but he has the good manners to keep it in check. “It’s possible,” he says, “but not likely. However, since you weren’t aware of your pregnancy, we can do a transvaginal ultrasound to confirm. How does that sound?”
I nod again as I try to take in what he’s saying.
Pregnancy.
Ultrasound.
Anemia.
What the hell is going on? “I thought I was just thirsty,” I whisper.
“That’s because of the anemia,” he says. “You were a bit dehydrated, so we’re giving you fluids.” He points to the bag of dripping liquid that’s flowing into my IV.
“I’ll put the order in,” he continues, “and then once we’ve confirmed your pregnancy, we’ll discuss the anemia.”
Another nod. Still in shock and confused andwhat the fuck?
The doctor leans over and squeezes my hand, smiling softly at me. Then he stands and steps out, leaving me to my thoughts.
I pull my phone out and click on the calendar app, counting back six weeks. Valentine’s Day. My period comes the first of the month like clockwork. I had it in February. I remember because when I went to the store to buy tampons, I also bought Raelyn and me some Valentine’s Day candy.
Holy shit, Valentine’s Day.
Elite sex club.
Lincoln and me.
Three amazing rounds of sex.
Fuck.
I scan my calendar, trying to jog my memory. Did I get my period in March? I don’t think I did. I look at the date and see it’s now April. I should’ve gotten it three days ago, but I didn’t. I’m staring at my calendar, trying to have this all make sense, when Raelyn walks in.
“They didn’t have any muffins, but I got you a?—”
“Are you on your period?” I blurt out.
“Umm, yeah,” she says, drawing out each word. “Why?”
“I haven’t gotten mine.”
“Okay...” She looks at me like I’m crazy. “I’m sure it will come?—”
