63. TEST
AAROHI:
I woke up feeling heavy today. Not physically, but emotionally.
Yesterday already felt overwhelming with the hospital smell, the machines, the cold gel against my skin, and that tiny heartbeat echoing inside my head long after we came home.
I was still trying to process all of it when Veer's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"We have to go again," he said calmly. I blinked at him immediately. "Again?" He nodded once. "Yes."
I sat up slowly, already annoyed. "I don't want to go.
" Veer folded his arms slightly while watching me carefully.
"We're going." I frowned instantly. "I hate hospitals.
" "I know." "They smell strange." "Aarohi.
" "And they keep poking me with needles.
" He exhaled slowly, the way he always does when he's trying not to lose patience with me.
"Just precaution," he replied calmly. I narrowed my eyes at him immediately.
"Precaution for what?" He didn't answer right away, and somehow that silence made me more nervous than words could have.
"Veer," I asked quietly, "is something wrong?
" "No," he answered too quickly. My chest tightened slightly.
"Then why are we going again?" He looked away briefly before replying. "A specialist is visiting."
Specialist. The word itself made me uneasy.
I stared at him for a long second. "You're hiding something.
" "I'm not." He held my gaze steadily, calm as always.
After a few silent moments, I finally looked away first. "Fine," I muttered softly.
I got ready slower than usual today. No effort.
No makeup. Just a simple cotton suit, tied-back hair, and my mangalsutra resting quietly against my neck. I didn't feel like dressing up at all.
When we stepped downstairs, Maa immediately noticed my expression.
"Again?" she asked softly. "Special doctor," Veer answered before I could speak.
Maa nodded slowly but kept looking at me carefully.
"Are you scared?" she asked gently. I hesitated before nodding faintly.
"A little." She cupped my cheek softly. "Everything will be fine.
" I wished I could believe that as easily as she did.
The hospital looked exactly the same as yesterday.
White walls. Bright lights. Cold floors.
The sharp antiseptic smell settled into my head the moment we entered.
But today felt different somehow. Heavier.
The nurse guided us toward another cabin where a different doctor was waiting.
She looked older than yesterday's doctor, maybe in her late forties.
Sharp eyes. Calm face. No unnecessary smile.
"Mrs. Sarkar?" she asked professionally.
"Yes." "Please sit." She opened my file immediately and started reading carefully before finally looking up at me.
"From the beginning," she said. "Tell me everything.
" I instinctively glanced toward Veer. The doctor noticed instantly.
"Alone," she said gently. "Let her speak.
" Veer leaned back quietly, letting me answer on my own.
So I started explaining everything slowly.
The late periods. The nausea. The dizziness.
The sudden cravings for pickle and ice cream.
The exhaustion. The emotional mood swings.
She listened carefully without interrupting even once, only writing things down occasionally.
Then she started asking more specific questions.
"Any bleeding?" "No." "Sharp abdominal pain?
" "No." "Fainting?" "Only dizziness sometimes. "
Then came the last question. "Stress levels?
" I hesitated immediately. She noticed. "Be honest," she said calmly.
I glanced toward Veer again before answering softly.
"Sometimes." She simply nodded. "Normal.
" Then she stood up slowly. "We'll do another sonography.
" My heart immediately started racing again.
The room felt colder today. Maybe because I already knew what to expect.
The nurse applied the cold gel against my stomach again, and I flinched slightly.
The doctor didn't react. She just moved the probe carefully across my skin while staring at the monitor with complete concentration.
Her expression stayed unreadable the entire time.
That made me nervous more than anything else.
Yesterday's doctor smiled often. This one didn't smile at all.
Grey shapes flickered across the monitor again.
I tried to understand them, but I couldn't. The silence in the room stretched longer and longer while she kept adjusting the angle of the probe.
My palms started sweating slightly. "Doctor?
" I whispered softly. "Hm?" "Everything okay?
" She didn't look at me. "Let me check."
Those four words dried my throat instantly.
Let me check.
Why not just say yes?
Why silence?
The machine hummed softly around us while my heartbeat grew louder inside my ears.
Then suddenly the familiar sound filled the room again.
Fast. Tiny. Alive. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
My eyes filled with tears instantly. Relief crashed through me so suddenly that my chest hurt.
That sound alone felt enough to calm me.
But then the doctor shifted the probe slightly again.
And for one brief second, I thought I heard another faint rhythm beneath the first one.
Softer. Almost hidden. Like an echo behind the heartbeat.
My breath caught immediately. The doctor narrowed her eyes at the screen and zoomed in slightly before taking measurements. Still no smile. Still no reassurance.
"Doctor?" I asked again, more urgently this time.
She finally looked at me. "For now, rest." My stomach tightened.
That wasn't an answer. "We'll do more tests," she continued calmly.
"More?" My voice came out much smaller than I intended.
"Yes. Blood panel. Hormone levels. Routine.
" Routine. Why did routine suddenly sound terrifying?
She cleaned the gel from my stomach before helping me sit up slowly. "Lie down for a few minutes." I looked at her carefully. "Is something wrong?" She didn't answer directly. "Early stages require careful monitoring." That sentence settled heavily inside my chest like a cloud I couldn't push away.
Then she turned toward Veer. "I'll speak with your husband." And just like that, they both walked out, leaving me alone inside the dim room.
I stared at the ceiling quietly. Same white ceiling as yesterday. Same boring hospital lights. But today my chest felt tighter somehow. Why didn't she smile? Why didn't she say everything was fine? Why so many tests? I slowly placed my hand over my stomach. "Are you okay?" I whispered softly.
I didn't even know whether I was talking to one heartbeat.
Or two.
That faint second rhythm kept replaying inside my mind.
Maybe it was only machine echo. Maybe I imagined it because I was nervous.
But something about it stayed with me. The door opened again, and a nurse entered carrying forms and another tray.
"Routine blood work," she explained gently. I nodded weakly.
Needle again. Bandage again.
My arm felt weaker this time.
The nurse adjusted the cotton over my wrist carefully before smiling softly.
"Rest here. Doctor will call you soon." I nodded once more after she left.
Then silence returned to the room again.
I hated the silence here. It made every second feel louder.
Every thought heavier. Every heartbeat more noticeable.
I closed my eyes slowly and inhaled deeply.
Maybe this was normal.
Maybe this was only precaution.
Maybe I was overthinking everything.
But somewhere deep inside me, fear had already started growing quietly. Not fear for myself. Fear for the tiny heartbeat I heard inside that dark room.
Or maybe two.
And while I lay there waiting alone, I realized something for the first time.
Pregnancy wasn't only glowing skin, cravings, teasing smiles, and emotional moments.
It was uncertainty too. Waiting. Fear. Trusting strangers in white coats with your entire world and praying that every silence eventually ends with the same words.
Everything is fine.
I just hoped that when the doctor spoke to Veer, that was exactly what she told him.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.