Chapter 36
Daniella
“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Matteo asks as we get ready—him for work and me for my doctor’s appointment.
“No, I’m good,” I tell him, leaning over and applying my lipstick. “It’s just a routine checkup. And then I’m going to the bridal shop to pick up my dress and have lunch with the girls.”
It’s been a busy month. Between working at Russo during the day and getting lost in Matteo every night—and the wedding planning in between—I’m looking forward to the two weeks we’ve taken off for our honeymoon.
When Matteo mentioned it, I tried to argue that I’d only been at Russo for a short time and it would look bad that I was taking time off again, but then my brother insisted, telling me the honeymoon was his wedding gift to us, and after tears filled my eyes, I agreed.
“And what about the shot?” Matteo asks, turning me so I’m forced to look at him.
“What about it?”
“I thought we decided we were going to let shit happen.”
“You know … once I’m pregnant, there’s no going back. So, you have to make sure this is what you want. Not too long ago, you were saying you never wanted to get married and have a family, and now, look at you …”
“That was before you.” He grips my chin. “I told you I want everything with you, including you swollen with my babies.” His hand goes to my stomach, and my insides turn to mush. “But only if that’s what you want,” he adds. “You said you wanted babies. Has that changed?”
I look at him for several seconds—at the love and honesty shining in his blue irises.
“No, that hasn’t changed. I would love to be a mom one day, and it would mean everything to have babies with you. Maybe it’s reckless to let nature take its course,” I tell him, “but I like being reckless with you, and if it ends with a mini version of us, I’ll be okay with it.”
“Good morning, Miss Russo,” Dr. Drescher says with a warm smile.
Peyton told me she’s her favorite at the practice, and I can instantly see why.
“I see you’re here for a routine exam as well as birth control.”
“Actually, my fiancé and I spoke and have decided to let nature take its course.”
“Well, that’s good,” she says with a light laugh, “because, according to your urine sample, nature has already taken its course.”
It takes several seconds for my head to wrap around what she just said, but once it does, I gasp in shock. “I’m pregnant?” My hand goes to my belly, and I suddenly wish Matteo were here with me. I thought I was just getting a routine checkup.
“That seems to be the case.” She has a seat in the medical chair in front of me. “Can you tell me the last time you had your period? When you filled out the paperwork, you put N/A.”
“That’s because I honestly couldn’t tell you,” I admit sheepishly. “I was on the shot for so long and …” My periods were never regular, even before the shot, but with it, I rarely got one, so when I didn’t get one during the past few months, I didn’t even think twice.
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.
The doctor frowns, but she does as I asked and moves the probe along my belly, clicking and making notes.
Once she’s done, she says, “My measurements are correct, Daniella. You’re fifteen and a half weeks along. We can’t know for sure, but this would put your conception date at roughly May 14.”
May 14.
May 14.
Where was I on May 14?
And then, like a freight train coming at me head-on, it hits me.
Oh my God.
My head spins, and black spots dot my vision.
This can’t be happening.
He was supposed to be in the past.
He’s gone.
Matteo killed him.
I wasn’t even due to renew my shot yet.
When the doctor glances at me, I realize I said that part out loud.
“Medicine isn’t perfect,” she says simply.
“What about my stomach?” I point at it for emphasis.
“Shouldn’t it be bigger? Rounder? This doesn’t make sense.
” I’m aware that I’m on the verge of losing my shit—or maybe I already have—but I can’t stop it from happening.
My hands are shaking, and hot tears are pricking my lids.
“I’m almost halfway through my pregnancy,” I choke out, “and I haven’t been sick once. ”
The doctor nods. “It doesn’t happen often, but I’ve seen it a few times throughout my career.
Some call it an invisible pregnancy. One patient didn’t show until she was almost thirty weeks.
The good news is that your baby looks healthy, and in the next few weeks, you should start being able to feel them.
First flutters and then full-on kicks. We’re sending out your blood work, and we’ll call you once it comes in, if there’s anything we need to discuss. ”
I shake my head in shock.
This can’t be happening.
This is what we wanted—but not like this.
Yet … I place my hand on my belly, already in love with the baby growing inside of me.
“Here you go,” Dr. Drescher says, handing me the sonogram pictures.
“You didn’t say if you wanted to know the gender, so I marked it in your file in case you wish to know.
When you head up to the front desk to check out, schedule your twenty-week appointment.
It will be an ultrasound, so if your fiancé would like to join … ”
My fiancé.
I’m engaged to Matteo, supposed to marry him in a few days, and I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.