Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Michelle
Ten weeks pregnant
I shift in the uncomfortable olive-green chair, wincing in the fluorescent lighting. The waiting room of this OBGYN office doesn’t look much different from the ones I’ve sat in the rest of my life. Except this is the first time I need the services of the “OB” part of the acronym.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” My friend Jax asks from the burnt orange chair next to me. What does it mean I chose the green chair over the orange one? Green radar means light rain, maybe only a drizzle. Orange radar means shit is about to get very real, very fast. An orange chair is more appropriate for my current life stage.
“No, I’m fine.” I look at my phone to check the time, again. “I hope they call me back soon. I know things happen, but it took me two weeks to get an appointment early enough I could come before I need to be at the station.” The weird hours of local weather news don’t always line up with things like normal business hours .
I glance over at the to-do list Jax is working on. “You don’t have to wait, you know. I know this is one of your off days from the senator’s office. You must have a million things to get done.” Jax recently had the secret pen name she writes romance under exposed. Long story short, her career has exploded, and I’m positive she has better things to do than sitting here with me.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jax fixes me with a stare that would stand a chance of stopping an avalanche. “You’d be here alone right now if I hadn’t walked in on you staring at your bouquet of pregnancy tests when I came back for my laptop charger. Admit it.”
She has me there. “I might have told Laurel ...” I trail off, my tone unconvincing. My cousin will probably try to make me move in with her and her wife to keep an eye on me. I need to have a plan in place before she learns anything.
“Sure, Jan,” Jax snorts, confirming I don’t fool her. “And even if you had, she’d be in Marsden’s office right now anyway. So, I’m pretty much the best woman for the job.”
“Lewis!” My name being called from the door leading to the exam rooms saves me from considering if I’m the best woman for this job—motherhood.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back with you?” While Jax insisted on coming to the appointment, she is respecting me not wanting anyone in the exam room with me. I have to admit, knowing she’s here helps more than I can put into words.
“No, I’m gonna be alone for a lot of these appointments, so let’s start now,” I say, hefting my bag with my notebook full of questions for the doctor onto my shoulder.
“Go team!” Jax yells from her seat, and I turn around to see her encouraging smile. Taking a deep breath, I walk past the pink-scrubbed nurse holding the door open.
“Stop here so we can get your height and weight.” She’s all business, pointing to where I can set my bag. I step up on the scale. As she moves the sliders around, I make a mental note to add setting up more frequent appointments with my therapist to the list. I’ve come to terms that I need to stand up for myself when it comes to doctors and my weight. Even so, watching the numbers slowly creep up, should this pregnancy move forward, is something I’ll want support handling.
The numbers are recorded in my chart, and I follow her to a white room with an exam table, some machines with screens, and a couple of chairs near a desk. The nurse indicates I should sit in a chair first.
She goes over the health history information I provided at digital check-in. “And the first day of your last period was?” I give her the date from my Health app. She nods as she types it into the computer. “And you’ve gotten a positive result on a home pregnancy test?”
“About twelve of them,” I say, noticing she’s trying to hold back a smile. “I know, I know,” I continue. “I wanted to be ... sure.”
She nods. “All right, the doctor will be in shortly. One more thing, I see there’s no partner’s name in the file?”
I’ve been dreading this part. “That’s correct. It wasn’t immaculate conception, but the partner won’t be in the picture.” She keeps a professional straight face, but I pick out pity in her eyes. I wonder how often she sees a woman coming in here alone.
“Well, you’re seeing Dr. Barber today—she’s a great one for your first visit.” Her voice projects compassion and kindness, the businesslike tone from earlier gone.
“Thank you so much ... I’m so sorry. I’m sure you told me your name, but it didn’t stick.” She smiles, a genuine smile that comes from someone noticing you.
“I’m Christina,” she says.
“Michelle,” I say, indicating myself. “I think you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”
She laughs. “I think you might be right.”
She slips out of the room and leaves me to my thoughts. Pretty much the last place I want to be these days. It’s why my list of questions is so long. If I’m researching or learning something, then I’m not spinning out, worrying if I can do this. If I want to do this.
I dig in my bag for a pencil. Not finding one, I decide to snoop to see if there’s one I can borrow. Not spotting anything on top of the desk and still left to my own devices, I decide to try the drawer. It’s stuck, damn it. I give it one more yank, pulling it right off its track, and about a dozen speculums spill all over the floor right as the door opens and Dr. Barber, I assume, walks in.
“Hi,” I say, holding the drawer in my right hand, positive my skin is flushing.
“Eager to get started? I’m Dr. Barber.” The woman, who’s not much older than me walks the rest of the way into the room and crouches down with me to start picking up the metal pieces from the floor.
“I’m so sorry. I forgot to put a pen in my bag and thought maybe there’d be one in the desk and ...”
She puts a hand on my arm, a kind smile on her face. “It’s okay. This is nowhere near the weirdest thing I’ve walked into in a patient room.”
“Well, fuck HIPAA, because that’s a story I’d love to hear,” I say as I sit back in my chair.
“It’s one I would love to tell you, but even without my confidentiality requirements, you work in a news station. I’m not sure you would be a good confidant.” My eyebrows shoot up, surprised she recognizes me.
“I’ve been watching KUSN for years and was thrilled when they hired a female meteorologist. And one who knows her science and isn’t afraid to show it? Well, you’re a weather woman after this scientist’s heart.”
“Wow, I’m just so surprised you recognized me. It hasn’t happened a ton yet. I haven’t been there very long. Of course, the first time it happens ...”
“Is when you’re meeting the woman who’s very shortly going to get between your legs.” She winks, somehow knowing the perfect bedside manner to match my vibes in a few short moments. And for the first time since I peed on that stick in CVS, I can see a path forward. I only need to be willing to grab it. Dr. Barber, angel sent from heaven, is here to help guide me.
“All right, let’s get down to it. The test from the urine sample you provided when you arrived came back positive, as expected. You are pregnant.”
All the air leaves my body, the momentary calm fleeing like I’m a whoopee cushion and Dr. Barber sat right on me.
“I see you’re in the room on your own. Will anyone be joining you for future appointments?”
“My friend Jax is out in the waiting room, but no. I very much expect to be in this room on my own.”
Her perfunctory nod is all business and contains no judgment, which is a huge relief. “Okay, I’ll make a note, so you don’t get asked anymore. Assuming you decide to continue returning for these appointments.”
Her tone indicates she’s not referring to finding another practice. One page of my notebook is dedicated to this, but as I continued to fill up the other pages with additional subjects and questions, that one page stayed the same.
“I think you’ll be stuck with me for the next thirty-ish weeks. I’m going to make a final decision based on what we learn today. It’s reassuring to know I’m in the care of someone who recognizes all options.”
She nods again, makes another few notes on her tablet, then turns to me. “All right then. I’m going to head out to give you some privacy to change. When I get back, we’ll do the exam, and I’ll take some measurements to see if we can narrow down an estimated due date.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes. “Oh, I can tell you the date, or at least the twelve hours of conception. There’s only one option.”
Dr. Barber smiles kindly. “That does make the math a bit easier. But we’ll still check on things and make sure you have a picture or two to head home with. Here’s a gown to change into, and I’ll be sure to grab some clean instruments from next door.” With a wink, she pushes back in her chair and shuts the door softly behind her.
I take a deep breath and after hiding my underwear—seriously, why do we do that?—I hop up on the exam table.
“You got this, Michelle.” I hype myself up and stare at a spot on the ceiling while focusing on my breath. In and out.
There’s a knock on the door before Dr. Barber sticks her head in. After seeing I’m ready, she slides through the opening of the door and another young woman in rose scrubs follows.
“This is Sabrina,” the doctor says. Sabrina waves and smiles a kind smile before rolling over a machine. When she reaches the exam table, she says, “We’ll talk you through what’s happening. First, we’re going to prep the wand with a sleeve and some lube.”
I eye the wand warily before looking back at my caretakers. “Well, it all seems pretty familiar so far. Condom, lube when needed, long thing headed for my vagina. What’s next?”
They both chuckle at my humor, though their eyes hold a look telling me they know I’m deflecting. “This might seem pretty familiar then, too.” Dr. Barber says before pulling out the stirrups. “If you want to slide down for me and get situated, we’ll get started.”
My heels nestle into the metal foot holds. I find that spot on the ceiling again, preparing myself as they warn I might feel some pressure. There are a few moments where it’s very clear I’m being probed with something medical before I hear it.
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
My eyes lock on the screen, the black and white static taking the shape of a blob, pulsing in time with the rhythm I hear through the speaker. “Well, that’s definitely something new.”
Dr. Barber squeezes my calf as she continues to move the wand, getting all the angles and measurements they need. I hear Sabrina click a few keys on the keyboard. “I’ll go grab those copies for you to take home.” She hands me a towel as she hangs up the wand and rolls the cart away before she squeezes out the door.
My head falls back on the pillow again. All those questions, all my research, silenced by a heartbeat and a grainy blob. There will be a time and place for them, but for now, I can’t break myself out of this moment.
“You can sit up whenever you’re ready, Michelle. Everything looks healthy and viable. I’ll be sure Sabrina brings you some pamphlets on all of your options. Do you want her to bring those pictures too?”
I nod. “Yes. I’ll take all the information you have, but I want those pictures too, please.” My eyes fill with tears, my chest tightening, the loose gown suddenly constricting. It’s only me. This decision is all on me.
“Will do. Look over those pamphlets and don’t hesitate to ask if you have any more questions.” Honestly, Dr. Barber should give classes on bedside manner. I know later I’ll reflect on how her tone is perfect—gentle, calm, non-judgmental, but sure.
I shake my head no, still unable to formulate any questions, and hear her get up and head for the door.
“Wait,” I say, and her movements stop. “Do you ... do you mind getting my friend, Jax, from the waiting room? Maybe she can bring the stuff back in with Sabrina? She’s probably the only Jax out there, but brown hair, bangs, blue eyes so big they’d look at home on Bambi?”
“Sure thing. They’ll be right with you. One of those pamphlets has the recommended appointment schedule listed in it. You can make an appointment on your way out or call us later. Up to you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Barber, for everything.”
The door closes softly behind her. The ceiling starts to swirl in front of my eyes. A tear trickles down my cheek. I know I should sit up, get dressed. Twenty minutes ago, I worried about being late for work? Such a minor thing to fret over when I keep hearing the steady thump of a heartbeat in my ears.
The door creaks open again, and Jax comes into my line of sight.
“Hey, there. Everything okay?”
“Well, I’m pregnant. There’s a baby in there and everything.” Her hand finds mine and I squeeze tight.
“Good to know six pregnancy tests is a number to be trusted.”
“I lied. It was actually twelve.” I laugh at myself before wiping my eyes and sitting up.
Jax waves a stack of papers in her hands. “A nurse who looks suspiciously like Zo? Kravitz handed me all of this for you.”
I groan. “I knew she looked familiar. How could I miss a doppelg?nger for number three on your hall pass list? Preston will never forgive me.”
“It’ll be our little secret.” She points at the two smaller pieces of paper face down on the top of the pile. “Are these ...” She trails off, her voice lifting into a question.
“Yup. Those are photos of the little cumulus cloud shaped thing in my uterus.”
Jax snorts. “You would.”
I shrug. “At least I’m consistent. Flip it over. I need you to bear witness to the moment.”
Jax turns the photo over and gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “Holy shit. There really is a cumulus cloud baby inside you, isn’t there?” I see her eyes start to water before she blinks the moisture away and locks eyes with me.
“How are you? Too big of a question? Tell me if I need to come up with a different one instead.”
I laugh. “For right now, I’m okay. When I was lying there, I had a moment of feeling really alone. And I know if I decide to go through with this pregnancy, there will be a lot of moments of being alone, but?— ”
“I’m glad you decided to not make this one of them. I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you decide to do.”
My eyes start to water again. Ten weeks and no tears, but ten minutes of doctor confirmed pregnancy, and it’s waterworks city. “I know you are. Thank you. For now, I need to get changed and get to work. There will be many more lists in my future, but I think I’ll let it all simmer.”
She lifts up the stack of papers, pamphlets, and photos and indicates her head to the door. “I’ll wait for you right out there.”
A few minutes later, I find Jax right where she said she’d be. We walk down the hallway and she slows as we pass the desk with one of the receptionists behind it.
“Do you need ...” she trails off.
I follow my gut. “Yeah, I think I will make an appointment. I can always cancel it if I need to.” She squeezes my arm again as I step up to the counter, smile, and schedule for four weeks from today. I look over my shoulder as she says the date and time and smile, seeing Jax typing into her phone. I’d bet the rights to choosing my on-air outfits for the next month she’s putting this appointment in her calendar, too. We may not have known each other long, but I know I’ve got a good one in her. I need to tell Laurel, too. I’ll need all the cheerleaders I can get.
We exit the front door, blinking at the bright sunlight, jarring after so much time inside.
“Well, I’m going to grab the bus this way,” I say, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb.
“I’m going to go write in a new coffee shop I found while I was in the waiting room that way,” Jax says, pointing in the opposite direction. “Text me tonight. Let me know how you are?”
I nod, and we hug before she starts walking away.
“Hey, Jax!” I yell after her, and she whirls around immediately.
“No reading any of your books until they’re at least thirteen, okay?” I put my hand on my stomach .
Her face breaks into a wide grin as she laughs at me. “Guess I better find myself some new books to gift then.”
We wave and carry on our ways. As I sit on the bus, I click on my list making app. After a second, I force myself to close it and open up the latest forecast projections from NOAA instead. I meant it when I told Jax I need to let it simmer. I look at the data and sink into the familiarity of analysis mode, pushing everything else to the back burner. Nothing like a potential string of strong storms to shove all thoughts to the background. Little Cumulus will still be there waiting for me after I warn everyone with Nats tickets for tonight they may see more tarp than turf out on the field.