20. Chapter 20
Aspen
“The doctor will be in as soon as possible. If you need anything hit that call light and I will be right back,” I instruct as I tuck the sweetest ten-year-old into bed.
Poor guy had the playground get the best of him.
Biffed it off the monkey bars and has a gnarly goose egg on the back of his head.
We took him down to CT and the initial read on the images are good and reassuring.
Closing the curtain behind me, I walk to the nearest sink to wash my hands and try to get some charting done before I have to head out of here early.
I’m nineteen weeks today, but we’re doing my twenty-week appointment.
The doctor is unfortunately out the day of my ultrasound and this was the closest we could get in.
It’s hard to believe that we’re already almost at the halfway mark.
Guess that’s what happens when you don’t realize you’re pregnant for over three months.
“You excited for your appointment today?” my coworker, Ashley, asks.
I miss working with Ava, but if I had to choose who I’d work a shift with, it’d be her.
She’s happy to be here and works her ass off.
Between her bright blonde hair and sunny disposition she feels like literal sunshine, and in a place like the ER, we could use more sunshine.
“Yeah, I wish we could have the ultrasound today, too, though.” I’d feel better about today's appointment if Rhett had his initial lab work in. They said it would take two weeks, but it’s been three.
My nausea had just gotten better, but with the added stress I’m right back to feeling a bit queasy.
I’d give anything for that man to be okay.
Mostly for the health aspect, but damn, would I love to see him actually live.
And not in fear, with freedom instead. He deserves so much more than what he is allowing himself.
“Hopefully you’ll get to hear heart tones though, that’s always exciting. I loved doing it in nursing school. I almost picked Labor and Delivery for my internship.” She smiles brightly at me just as a call light goes off. “I’ll get it, you finish your charting.”
She practically skips down to bay four and I can’t help but laugh. I hope this place doesn’t rob her of that. Healthcare isn’t always easy. Add in all the policy changes, crappy leaders and executives who care more about money than they do you, it can get pretty daunting.
I chart the vitals of my last patient, and check my pockets to make sure I’m not forgetting anything before I log off. Once I page our supervisor to come take over the rest of my shift, I wave to Ashley and head out to the parking lot .
My mind bounces back to Rhett; it always does. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s the feelings I have been trying to bury. Repeatedly. I meant it when I said I was choosing myself. And choosing a future and happiness.
But what if he is my ‘happy’? I still get lost in the daydream of us being a real family.
I try not to think about it often, cause damn does it make my heart ache, dreaming of the life where Rhett is mine, and I am his.
The pull I feel toward him has intensified tenfold.
Maybe in part to the hormones, but really, it’s because he is already the best damn dad, and if that isn’t the hottest quality a man can have, I don’t know what is.
I’m trying to find the balance between being hopeful and being realistic.
It’s possible his feelings aren’t as deep as mine.
We’ve never talked about it. Feelings were very much off the table of discussion.
But I swear I've seen it, in the way he looks at me, the way he touches me. It’s like my heart knows, maybe both of ours do; we’re just too scared.
I sigh, trying to push all of this out of me. Maybe if I exhale hard enough, it’ll pull all of the confusion from me. I try again. It doesn’t.
Once I get home, I head to my bedroom, already feeling a bit overwhelmed; trying to find something to wear will totally help. At work it’s easy; scrubs pretty much always fit, they’re stretchy with an elastic band. The jeans in my closet? Not so much.
In the last two weeks, it’s like every time I wake up, the bump is bumping more. I’m halfway between looking like I had the world's largest burrito and pregnant. It makes dressing incredibly different, living in a body you don’t quite recognize.
I have one pair of jeggings that buttoned last week, so I pull them out of the closet. It looks really cute with my floral blouse. It’s pretty flowy, so I have high hopes.
The pants get caught at my hips, not the area I thought I was going to be having a hard time today. Maybe I just need to do a few hops, loosen them up.
Three hops later, they are up but just barely. I take a step and look in the mirror. They are stretched so far, the material ripples, and there’s no way in hell they are buttoning. I look like a busted can of biscuits.
Tears start to build up, but I quickly bat them away. I don’t have time for that. Rhett will be here any second, and I am not even close to ready.
I guess I can always wear leggings with the shirt; it’s a little 2016 coded, but I can live with that.
The shirt slides on, no problems at all. Thank the Lord. That probably would have been my–oh no.
The shirt is a bit cropped to begin with; add in a bump, and now I look like Winnie the Pooh.
Not exactly the style I was looking for.
I stare at myself, slowly becoming a blur as tears fill my eyes.
I am so grateful to be bringing life into this world, and I love my baby so much already, but I just feel like a stranger in my skin and this is only the beginning.
It’s not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but the culmination of everything else has stacked my heart into a fragile house of cards. These clothes not fitting is the wind to knock them over.
“This is so stupid,” I chastise myself as I sink down onto the floor, burying my face in my hands.
The front door opens, and I inwardly curse Rhett for being so damn reliable. I should have known he would be early. Usually, I love this about him; during a meltdown, not so much.
“Aspen?” he hollers out.
I swallow the lump in my throat and try to hop to my feet. “In here.” It sounds better than I thought it would. A little Kermit the froggy.
Finally getting to my feet, I am significantly more winded than I should be. All that running I did before pregnancy seems futile now. Getting up off the floor is like a damn Olympic sport.
He arrives in my door frame, and as his eyes meet mine, I feel him analyze me. “Why are you crying?”
Trying to explain to a man that you can totally handle his whole ordeal, your complicated past together, but a shirt and pants not fitting is the straw that breaks the camel's back feels about as difficult as getting up off the floor quickly.
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head and divert my eyes.
“If it bothers you, it’s not nothing; talk to me.” He steps into the room, and damn it, it’s like his energy charges the air. I am so incredibly aware of him, it feels electric.
“You’re going to laugh at me,” I groan, still trying not to look at him.
His index finger and thumb gently grab onto my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. The concern laced there makes my heart race and I wish it wouldn’t because the more it does, the less I can deny that things have changed. Or, really, they’re the exact same; I just can’t lie to myself anymore.
He doesn’t relent, so I let it all out, “None of my clothes are fitting. I don’t have an overly impressive bump yet, but my jeans won’t zip, my hips have suddenly grown overnight and I feel… I don’t know. Frumpy.”
He laughs and my heart stings. I knew he would laugh. Men just don’t get it.
“It’s not funny, Rhett.”
He cups my head in his hands. “What’s funny is you not realizing you are the most beautiful woman in every single room you walk in.
Your jeans not fitting doesn’t change that.
Your body is going to continue to change, and you know what?
I love it. I love that you’ve got our baby in there.
The bigger that bump gets the stronger our baby gets. ”
The gesture is far too intimate, and just what I needed. “You don’t think I look like Winnie the Pooh?”
He drops his hands and I immediately miss his touch. “Not even a little bit. Put on whatever is comfortable for you and let's go to the doctor.”
“Food after?” I ask. I need something to make this day a bit better.
“I didn’t know that was an optional?” he jokes.
“And, if you need some good news to make you feel better, my CK test came back good.” The corner of his mouth tips up.
I wish I could see that he felt relieved, but I get the feeling that won’t come for him until we get the results from the genetic testing.
It does however make me feel ten times lighter. As of this moment his body isn’t showing signs of disease, and that is something to be grateful for. “That’s day making news, Rhett.” I reach out and squeeze his hand.
“I’m going to step out so you can get dressed.” He turns and goes to step out of the room, but pauses in the door frame. “Aspen, you really do look beautiful today.”
My cheeks and my chest warm with the sincerity ringing out through him. It feels as if I could melt on the spot. “Thanks.”
Complaining about my body changing while he’s worried about his failing now seems a bit selfish. I am growing life. A tiny life that is half him and half me, and I think that’s worth my body changing for.
I find a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt that is now just a shirt, and we head out.
Spring has sprung, and little yellow flowers litter the side of the highway, making our dive through the mountain even better.
The Aspen trees are sprouting their leaves which is always my favorite.
It feels symbolic this year. This year, I too am sprouting.
Growing into someone new. Someone’s mom.
We pull up at the hospital, its large glass windows reflecting the sun. Originally, I was going to transfer to Windy Peaks, but I've grown a bit attached to our OB, and I already know this office. I feel good here, so I think I’ll finish this pregnancy off at this location.
The appointment was pretty uneventful since I haven’t done my ultrasound yet. She’ll call me with the results.
“That never gets old,” Rhett says as we step out into the parking lot, heading to his truck.
“What?” I ask. It can’t be the walk around the hospital. Really, once you’ve been in one, you’ve been in them all. Linoleum floors, the smell of disinfectant and nurses rushing this way and that.
“Hearing the baby's heartbeat. It’s so cool.” His smile stretches across his face, and it’s one of his good ones. Unfiltered and unburdened. I love it. I love that this baby makes him that happy.
“It’s the best. In a few short months we’ll be holding that heartbeat.” I affectionately bump my shoulder into him.
His grin gets even bigger as he throws his arm around my shoulders, shocking the hell out of me.
Until recently, his touch was scarce. I’ve missed it so much, sometimes I daydream about the times he used to hold me.
But as his arms pull me closer into him, I realize the daydream will never be as good as the real thing.