Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
The doctor nods. “That makes sense. Okay then.” She stands. “I’ll bring the nurse in so we can do your exam, and then we’ll take you back to do an ultrasound so we can confirm the pregnancy and see how far along you are.”
“Sounds good.”
I consider texting Matteo, but he said he had a busy morning, and if I am in fact pregnant, there will be plenty of future appointments he can come to. I don’t even know if I am pregnant. For all we know, the urine test was wrong.
“I haven’t had any symptoms,” I tell the doctor. “Like, none.” I think back to the past few weeks, and I haven’t felt any nausea or had any cravings, like you always hear pregnant women having. “Do you think something is wrong?”
“Every pregnancy is different, and you might not be that far along. Many women don’t feel any different until they’re several weeks along.”
After my exam, the nurse takes some blood, and then I’m taken to another room, where I lie down on the medical table, nervous and excited to confirm the pregnancy.
I’ve always wanted to be a mom. When I was little, I would play house, pretending to be my mom. And when I got older and missed home, I would imagine what my house would look like—filled with love and laughter. I wouldn’t send my children away to keep them safe. Instead, I would hold them close, and I know Matteo would do the same.
But when Matteo made it clear that he didn’t want children, even though it was hard, I accepted his decision because a life without Matteo wasn’t a life I wanted, even if it meant it was just the two of us. I accepted I would be the hands-on aunt who would spoil my nieces and nephews, and I was even thinking about asking Matteo if we could get a cute little cat.
But then he shocked me when he changed his mind and said he wanted to have a family with me. Don’t get me wrong. I fully plan to still be the aunt who spoils her nieces and nephews, and I’m definitely getting a cute kitten one day, but now, I get to also be a mom and raise my babies with one of the sweetest, most selfless men I know—my soon-to-be husband. I know he’s scared to become a dad, but that’s only because he doesn’t see himself the way I see him.
“We’re going to try an abdominal ultrasound first,” the doctor says, bringing me back to the present. “Depending on how far along you are, if we can’t see anything, we’ll move to a transvaginal ultrasound.”
I’m trying to do the math in my head when she places a paper blanket over my bottom half, and then she lifts my gown to just below my breasts and squirts some warm blue gunk on my belly.
She runs the probe through the blue gunk and then switches the screen on, and even though I have no idea what I’m looking at, my eyes don’t leave it, searching for any sign that I’m pregnant.
“Okay, here we are,” she says. “This is the sac.” She points to the screen. “And this is your baby.” She clicks a few buttons, and a loud whooshing hits the air. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
Tears fill my eyes as I watch with rapt attention as she explains each part of my baby. No, not my baby … our baby. A precious baby that’s part me and part Matteo. I choke out a sob, wishing he were here, knowing he would’ve loved to see this.
“According to the measurements, you’re fifteen weeks, four days along,” the doctor says with a bit of surprise in her tone. “Putting your due date on February 15. And”—she grins—“you’re far enough along that I can see the gender, if you’d like to know. Or I can jot it down in your file. I know gender reveals are all the rage these days.”
She continues to go over what she’s seeing on the screen, but I zone her out, going back fifteen weeks in my head. That’s roughly four months … but that doesn’t make sense because Matteo and I haven’t even been together for four months.
“Something isn’t adding up,” I tell her, cutting her off. “I can’t be that far along.”
My heart starts to race, and my hands become clammy. Something is wrong.
“I’m not even showing.” I point to my belly.
Sure, I’m a plus-size woman, so my belly is soft, but I haven’t grown out of my clothes. I’m still wearing the same size I was wearing months ago. If anything, they’ve become looser from eating healthy and working out with Matteo.
“Can you please check again?” I insist. “Something isn’t right.”
Heat is coursing through my veins, and my heart is racing so fast that I’m worried it’s going to beat right out of my chest. I’m having a panic attack, but I try to tamp it down, focusing on the screen in front of me.