Chapter 14
CHAPTER
“WHAT?” BLOOD HAMMERED through my body. I couldn’t take my eyes off my phone.
A few bystanders jerked their heads around to look at me questioningly.
My brain finally registered a cold, wet sensation—ice cream in my lap.
I’d dropped my cone. I jumped to my feet, grabbed a few napkins and started pawing at my shorts.
When I had slopped up most of the damage, I picked my phone back up and gaped at the screen again.
“IT’S A BOY! Max and I are over the moon. We can’t wait to become parents and hold our little boy in our arms. Only two months to go!”
This can’t be true. How could she possibly know the baby is a boy?
Like something in me had finally unlocked, I burst into full-on sobs, falling to my knees on the grass next to my sticky blanket as I rocked back and forth, clutching my belly. How could she do this to me? How could he let her do this?
I felt a presence above me. “Miss? Are you alright?” I glanced up through swollen eyes at a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair, looking down with concern.
I sniffed, sucking air in and out of my lungs as I struggled to speak. “Yes … yes … I’m okay … I just … I’ll be okay, thank you. I just … need to go home.”
The woman helped me struggle to my feet and gather my things. “Thank you.” Then I half-ran, half-walked out of the park toward home.
I could barely see through my tears as I stumbled through the streets. After what felt like an eternity, I finally burst through the door into my apartment and collapsed at the kitchen table, my breathing ragged. This can’t be happening. There’s no way she could know this.
My head snapped up. Wait—there’s only one way she could know this: the clinic. I remembered the sonographer’s words—she’d said they would write the gender in my file, along with a note not to tell me unless I asked.
I wiped the tears from my eyes. Suddenly, I was angry, very angry. My private medical information had been violated, my trust broken. And somehow, my doctor’s office had allowed it to happen.
Well, they were about to get an earful from me about it.
My Uber pulled up in front of the doctor’s office. I hadn’t trusted myself to drive in the state I was in, trembling with fury. I thanked the driver and slammed the door shut behind me, then took a deep breath, channeling my emotions into what I hoped was more of a cool, confident, focused rage.
I marched through the clear glass doors of the Women’s Care Clinic.
My eyes immediately landed on the young nurse with straight brown hair sitting at reception.
The second she spotted me, she grabbed the folders she was working on and scurried down a hallway.
Another nurse standing nearby watched her run away, then shifted her gaze back to me with a polite smile.
She opened her mouth as though she were about to greet me, but I didn’t give her the chance.
“Where is Dr. Quinlan?” I demanded. “I need to see her right now.”
Several others in the waiting room stopped what they were doing and looked up.
“What’s the matter, ma’am?” asked the nurse. “Are you feeling alright?”
“No, I am not. I am furious. Information about my pregnancy was given out without my consent, and I want to know how and why.” I slammed my hand down on the counter to show I meant business.
“I’m sorry—” She came closer and lowered her voice. “What do you mean, given out?”
“Somehow, my baby’s father’s girlfriend found out the gender of my baby and announced it to the whole world on social media today. I want to know how the hell she got that information!” I screamed that last part, attracting even more attention.
I noticed a door down the hallway open. Out came Tamara, the sonographer who had done my ultrasound.
“You!” I pointed at her. “You said all information about my pregnancy was private, and that no one was allowed to access it without my permission. So how the hell did Madison find out the gender of my baby?”
Tamara’s jaw fell open, but no sound came out.
“Well? How? How did she find out? Did you tell her?”
“No! We would never do that! It’s against the law!” Tamara’s hand flew to her throat.
“Well, it’s the only way she could have possibly found out. So, who told her?” I turned a few steps to the left and right, my accusatory gaze sweeping the gathered employees one by one.
Dr. Quinlan emerged from the back with a frown on her face. “Ms. Mitchell? What is going on? What is all the screaming about?”
“Someone in this clinic gave away information about my baby to someone I did not want to have it, and I want to know who and why.” I glared at her.
Dr. Quinlan glanced around at the patients in the waiting room and those popping their heads out of exam rooms up and down the hallway, then took me by the elbow.
“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.
Let’s step into my office and discuss this calmly.
Tamara, Rachel, join us, please.” She led me down the hallway to her office.
The doctor gestured to a chair facing her desk. “Have a seat, Savannah.” The nurse and sonographer flanked the doctor as she sat in her high-backed leather chair, hands clasped professionally on her desk. They all looked at me with concern.
“No, thank you, I’d rather stand,” I said hotly.
“Okay. Why don’t you tell me what’s upsetting you?”
“What’s upsetting me is that I specifically told your sonographer I didn’t want to know the gender of my child when she performed my ultrasound a few weeks ago.
” I pointed at Tamara. “She said she would note it in my file in case I changed my mind later, but that it would be kept confidential unless I specifically asked for it myself. Well, guess how I found out today that I’m apparently having a boy?
On social media, when my baby’s father’s girlfriend announced it to the whole world! ”
To her credit, Dr. Quinlan barely flinched.
“That simply cannot be true,” she said calmly but firmly.
“This is a highly professional, widely respected medical practice. We adhere to HIPAA laws very strictly. There is no member of my team that would ever give out that kind of information unless you filled out certain forms granting access to specific individuals.”
“The only person who I granted permission to is my mother, Shelley Woods, and that is only in case of an emergency.”
“Rachel, please go get Ms. Mitchell’s file,” the doctor said.
I finally decided to take a seat in one of the chairs facing her desk as Rachel came back with a folder. She opened it and spread it out before Dr. Quinlan.
The doctor quickly scanned the contents.
“I see Tamara’s notes here from your twenty-week scan …
and I do see her note here that you said you do not wish to know the gender of your baby.
And here is the envelope Tamara stored the gender information in—still fully sealed.
” Dr. Quinlan held up a plain white envelope.
I rolled my eyes. Wasn’t it obvious? If someone had accessed my file, she could have opened the original envelope and then easily placed it into a new one, and sealed it.
“And here are the HIPAA forms you filled out when you first enrolled in my prenatal care after finding out you were pregnant. You are correct—the only person you granted access to your information is your mother, Shelley Woods. Your emergency contacts are Shelley Woods and Eleanor Parker.”
She continued flipping. “It looks like, at your twelve-week appointment, you asked us to make a note that Maxwell Hunter is the father of the child, and that in an emergency, he was to be notified if there was ever a serious issue with the health of the child. That is all I see regarding the privacy of your medical information.” She looked up at me again.
“Based on this, Savannah, as your baby appears to be in perfect health up to this point, there is no one that we are legally allowed to reveal information to regarding the gender of your baby, or anything else.”
I jiggled my knee as I fought the urge to pace, like I usually did when I was upset. “Then how do you explain this? Look at my file—is she correct? Am I having a boy?”
“Are you absolutely sure you want to know, Ms. Mitchell?”
“I’m pretty sure I already do, so—yes.”
Dr. Quinlan picked up a pointy letter opener off her desk and sliced the envelope open. Tamara looked at me with sadness.
The doctor softened her voice. “You are indeed having a boy, Ms. Mitchell.”
Tears slid down my cheeks as I truly registered the news for the first time. I don’t think I had allowed myself to fully believe it when I’d first read Madison’s post, but here it was—undeniable.
I was having a son.
I leaned forward, covering my face with my hands as more tears fell.
No one said anything. And what could they say?
They couldn’t take it back. No one could erase this knowledge from my head.
Discovering the gender of my child should have been a happy moment—but, as usual, Madison had stolen that from me.
When I’d finally calmed down enough to look up, Dr. Quinlan was frowning down at one of the documents in my file.
“Ms. Mitchell—why did you come in on the twenty-seventh for urine and blood toxicity tests?”
I sniffed, dabbing my eyes. “The lady from Children’s Services told me I had to.”
Her frown deepened. “What lady?”
“The DCS investigator. They received reports that I’m putting my baby’s health in danger—probably another of Madison’s ploys. They searched my apartment and made me come get toxicity tests. She said if they find anything concerning, DCS could take my baby away from me in the delivery ward.”
“That is highly unusual,” Dr. Quinlan said, trading uneasy looks with Rachel and Tamara.
“I thought so too, Doctor,” said Rachel.
“I have never heard of DCS investigating a pregnant mother—only after birth.”