CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Leanne
Ten Weeks ~ Baby is the size of a cotton ball
My knee bounces under my hand and I squeeze hard, pushing the tension coursing through my veins into the movement. I should be excited about today, ecstatic, but even the lavender-painted walls are making me edgy.
I lay awake last night with only one thought running on a loop in my mind: what if something is wrong?
“Leanne Kole?”
A nurse in scrubs the color of the walls stands in the doorway with a bright smile on her face.
I force out a big puff of air, emptying my lungs, and stand. I give a smile, but I’m afraid it comes across as more of a grimace.
“Welcome to Bozeman OBGYN Associates, Leanne. I’m Trina. Do you have anyone else joining you today?” She glances over my shoulder as I step inside.
“Um, no. Not today.” I shake my head and kind of wish I’d taken Bryce up on his offer to come. But even with a week and a half of texting updates about how I’m feeling and how big the baby is according to my app, I wasn’t a hundred percent ready for that step.
“I’m going to go through your medical history, take your vitals, and get you settled for your exam with Dr. Davenport. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Okay?” I nod, and she gives me another kind smile. “No need to be nervous.”
“Mhm.” Easy for her to say.
Trina gets my weight and leads me to a room with a paper gown waiting on the table. She gives me a few minutes to change—aka strip down to nothing and don the boxy paper monstrosity—and returns to find me fiddling with my hands in my lap.
“Dr. Davenport will join us in a few minutes.” She reaches for the blood pressure cuff and proceeds to take my vitals—I’m sure my blood pressure is through the roof, but she doesn’t look overly concerned.
Then come all the questions about every medical condition anyone in my family has ever had.
She scribbles on a notepad as I run through them, but when she asks about cancer and I have to explain about Jenna’s Leukemia, my heart sticks in my throat.
Is Leukemia genetic? Why have I never thought about that possibility before?
I speed down a new road of worst-case scenarios as I continue answering her questions on autopilot, and it’s only when the door opens and a smiling brunette joins us that I’m saved from my spiral.
“Hi, Leanne,” she says. “I’m Dr. Davenport—or Rebecca. It’s very nice to finally meet you in person.”
She steps forward, extending her hand. I swallow the panic that just threatened to take over and offer my own. “Hi. Thank you for fitting me into your busy schedule.”
“Of course. How are you feeling?” She moves around the room with ease, a butterfly floating on the wind. “Is the Zofran helping?”
“Oh, yes, thank goodness. I haven’t been sick more than once or twice since I started taking it.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear. And you’re eating normally again?” Her casual tone and the relaxed way she leans against the counter, ankles crossed in front of her, help to calm me.
“Yes… well, mostly.” My voice is still shaky, and I chatter on because I can’t seem to stop myself. “I’ve been sticking with basic foods for fear of making it worse. Crackers and peanut butter and ginger ale are my best friends at the moment… and grilled cheese.” I laugh nervously.
She smiles and says, “That makes sense.” She sits on a stool and rolls over until we’re facing each other, like she knows coming down to my level might help me relax.
Which, surprisingly, it does. “I know all of this,” she says, indicating around the room, “can be a lot. But today is a good day, yeah? We’re going to see the baby and hear their heartbeat.
I’ll talk you through everything we’re doing and then give you the floor for questions, okay? ”
“Okay. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” I blow out another breath, more tension leaving my body with it.
“Actually, I kind of do.” I glance up from my hands to find her listening intently while Trina adjusts instruments on a tray.
“I don’t know if Bryce told you that I thought I couldn’t get pregnant, but I think maybe I still don’t fully believe this is happening. ”
As excited as I want to be about this surprising turn of events in my life, I’m also plagued with all the terrifying doubts. What if something is wrong? What if it’s a chemical pregnancy? What if I couldn’t get pregnant for a reason, and now this pregnancy won’t actually be viable?
“It’s really happening,” she says with a bright smile.
“Your hCG levels are right where they should be at ten weeks, and as much as the morning sickness sucks, it’s actually a good indicator that everything is coming along just fine.
Is there a particular reason you believed you couldn’t get pregnant? ”
I swallow, my eyes catching on the nurse before looking away. Embarrassment flushes across my skin, and I’m back to fidgeting with my hands in my lap.
“Trina, can we have a moment?” Rebecca asks, and I look up to see Trina’s blonde ponytail whip out of sight around the door before it closes.
“Leanne, there is nothing to be embarrassed about here.” She holds eye contact, and her assurances are a salve for my festering shame. “I want to be sure I’m understanding the situation so I know if there’s something I should be looking out for.”
I take a moment to collect my thoughts, taking in her appearance while I do.
She looks young… Definitely younger than I am.
Her long brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail that cascades down her back.
She has striking blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks.
Her pink lips curve up in an encouraging smile, and I finally find the courage to speak.
“My ex and I tried to get pregnant for over a year and were unsuccessful. I thought we should see a fertility specialist, but he…”
When I don’t continue, Rebecca carefully adds, “He didn’t want to.”
I nod. “He was sure it was an issue with me. That maybe we’d waited too long or that I was…” I trail off again, not willing to voice his words. It was hard enough to say them to Bryce.
“You’re thirty-seven, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Lots of women are having babies later in their thirties these days. You’re barely even over the cutoff to be considered of ‘advanced maternal age,’” she says, and I grin at her use of air quotes.
“I can’t say for sure there wasn’t a reason you weren’t conceiving with your ex, but more than likely, based on the fact you are now pregnant, the issue lies with him… not you.”
She offers me another small smile. I try my best to return it. “I should’ve gone in to be sure—after he left—but I think I internalized what he said as truth and…”
“That’s very normal.” She places a hand on my knee, a comfort I didn’t know I needed. “The people who have the ability to hurt us most are often those closest to us. Their words leave the deepest wounds behind.”
I try to ignore the tingling in the back of my throat and the pricking discomfort of my tear ducts attempting to do me dirty and make me cry.
“We’ll do a thorough exam today and I’ll add a few panels to your bloodwork to make sure we aren’t missing anything. I know having that peace of mind will help you to feel more grounded in this pregnancy.”
I nod and a single tear slips free, but my lips tip up and I smile genuinely for the first time since walking into the hospital.
“This is really happening,” I say, and another tear slides down my cheek as my smile widens. “I’m really pregnant, and I get to be a mom.” Saying the words helps it feel true, and I finally sink into the belief with no way of explaining the elation I feel.
“It’s really happening,” she says, squeezing my hand. “And you already are a mom. Today you get to meet your baby.”