Come Away with Me
Page 94We sit in companionable silence for a while, both of us checking our phones and watching a bit of TV. We wait a really long time, about two hours, before we see the doctor again.
“I’m sorry for the wait. I had a few blood tests that I wanted to run and they can take a little time.” She pulls a chair up next to me and it looks like she’s settling in for a long chat.
Shit, what’s wrong with me?
“I have some good news, and some news that could go either way, depending on how you choose to look at it.”
“Okay. I’ll take the good news first, please.”
“You’re very healthy. All of your vitals are normal, and your labs all came back completely fine.”
“Good.”
“Except, and here’s the other news, you’re pregnant.”
I hear Jules gasp beside me, but I don’t understand.
“What did you say?”
“You’re pregnant.”
“No, that’s impossible.” I shake my head adamantly. There must be some mistake.
“Oh?” The doctor raises an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“I’m on the pill to prevent pregnancy.
I never, ever miss a pill. Never. I’m The Pill Nazi.”
“The Pill can be very effective at preventing pregnancy, but just like all birth control, it can fail.”
“No, if I take it the right way, which I do, I won’t get pregnant.”
“Natalie, the pill is ninety-nine percent effective when taken correctly.
There is a one percent chance that it can fail, and it seems that you are that one percent.”
“What?!” The world starts to fall away from beneath me.
“She’s right, Nat.” Jules shoves her phone in my face. “Never mind that you have an educated M.D. right here telling you this, but WebMD concurs. Ninety-nine percent effective.”
“I take it this is bad news?” Dr.
Anderson asks.
I look at Jules and she looks as shocked as I feel. “I don’t know.”
The doctor looks at my ring and smiles broadly. “Maybe it’s just a shock. We ran both your urine and blood to confirm. I’d like to do an ultrasound to determine how far along you are.”
Nurse Mo steps out of the room and returns with a little ultrasound machine on wheels. Instead of putting a probe on my flat belly, the doctor has me put my feet in the stirrups so she can use a vaginal probe.
“The baby is too small to see with the external probe,” she explains.
Baby? Oh. God.
The nurse turns out the light and we all look at the screen of the machine.
Suddenly, there is a little black circle, about the size of a quarter, and inside is a flutter.
“There we are!” Dr. Anderson smiles. “I’d say you’re at about six weeks along.”
Jules grabs my hand and we stare at the screen in awe.
“Is that the heart?” I ask, pointing to the fluttering on the screen.
we
call
hyperemesis
gravidarum. It’s morning sickness times a hundred. You’ll probably be pretty nauseous during this pregnancy, so I’ll prescribe you some anti-nausea meds to use at home. They won’t affect the baby. Also, stop the Pill immediately, start taking some prenatal vitamins with folic acid and make an appointment with your OB doctor in the next four weeks.”
She hits a button on the machine and a photo of the ultrasound prints out.
“Here, something for you to show off.” She winks at me. “We’re going to keep you for a while, push another bag of fluids and make sure your vomiting is under control, and then you can go home.”
“Okay.”
She leaves and Jules and I just stare at each other.
“Are you okay,” she asks.
“No.” I feel numb.
“I love your ring. The picture you texted me Saturday night didn’t do it justice.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay,
let’s
talk
about
rationally.” Jules takes my hand in hers and looks me in the eye. “He loves you.”
“He’ll think I’m trying to trap him.”
She laughs – laughs – and squeezes my hand. “Natalie, that won’t even cross his mind.”
“His family will think that.”
“Who gives a fuck?”
“He just barely proposed.”
“Now you’re just babbling. Natalie, look at me.”
“It’s too soon.” My eyes fill as they find hers. Thank God she’s here with me. “We just met, we’re still learning each other, Jules. We’ve been engaged for less than a week. It’s too soon.”
The tears come in earnest as my phone rings again. I send it straight to voice mail.
“Nat, you have to talk to him.”
“I’m not telling him this over the phone.”
“No, he’ll worry if you don’t answer the phone, silly.” My phone rings again, but I’m crying too hard now to answer it.
“You answer. Tell him I’m in the bathroom or something.”