Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“You can turn around now,” I tell Boston, then sit down while she pulls the small cart from the corner, takes out the thermometer, places the probe beneath my tongue, and then takes my blood pressure. The cuff really does hurt as she pumps it full of air. My eyes are seeing stars. Boston must realize something is going to happen because the last thing I notice is him rushing toward me, hands cradling my head, before darkness consumes me.
TWELVE
Boston
“This better be a normal side effect of pregnancy,” I state to the doctor, unable to keep the worry from my tone. If this happens naturally, well, this will be the last child Amelie has. I’ll get a fucking vasectomy the second our child is born. My heart still hasn’t recovered as she returns to consciousness on the bed in the room her nurse pointed me toward. Carrying her wasn’t a hardship, and it was faster than the nurse, now known as Stacy, to get a wheelchair.
“Boston, stop being so grouchy and let Dr. Dana talk for a minute,” Amelie says as if she wasn’t conked out only moments ago.
“This can be very normal during your first trimester of pregnancy. A drop in blood pressure, low sugar levels, it can be a domino effect in her fainting spells. What’s the last thing you had to eat?”
“Tea and toast earlier this morning.” Dr. Dana hums in response, looking over her chart on the laptop. I’m tempted to call Ezra and ask him to hack into the hospital and give me all of Amelie’s reports, find a doctor of my choice, preferably one I can fly in from New York to get the real answers.
“That could have a lot to do with it. Are you feeling any dizziness, nausea, vomiting?” I snort, trying to keep my mouth shut while the two of them talk, but knowing Amelie, she’ll try and shrug it off.
“Nausea, definitely. The smell of eggs has me rolling.” She leaves off the other important parts.
“She fainted earlier today, and not so much vomiting. Dry heaving, yes, but she had nothing to get up.” Amelie’s gaze shifts to me.
“There is that, too,” she finally admits to the doctor exactly what happened.
“Ah, okay. Well, morning sickness, unable to keep food or liquids down, can result in your sugar and blood pressure dropping. I’m going to prescribe you an anti-nausea medicine to take as needed. A lot of expectant mothers keep crackers and a lemon-lime soda of sorts on their nightstand, swearing they eat it before their feet touch the ground helps a lot. Now, judging by your last menstrual cycle, you’re about seven weeks along. Would you like to hear your child’s heartbeat?” Amelie’s face gets soft. Part of the questionnaire she had to answer was about her options and what she’d like to choose. I watched out of the corner of my eye, a churning in my gut at the potential of her changing her mind. It eased when she put a check mark by childbirth.
“Yes, and yes to the medicine, but I’m also going to try the cracker and soda route first. This guy will no doubt hover over me for the next however many months.”
“Wrong. Try years, Amelie. I’m not going anywhere, not today, not tomorrow, not ever, and not because you’re the mother of our child either.” Amelie’s eyes fill with tears. It doesn’t matter that we’re in a room with her doctor; she needed to hear with her own ears that I’m not leaving her. She’s it for me, and once a few things are cleared between us, she’ll hear the words I once told her while she was sleeping.
“Alright, well, let’s get to it, then. I’m going to step out for a few moments. We still need to do a pelvic exam, as well as the doppler to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Your next appoint, we’ll do a transvaginal ultrasound, measure a few things. I’ll be seeing you once a month as long as your morning sickness and fainting don’t get worse. Also, I’d like you to monitor your blood pressure twice a day, to err on the side of safety.” Dr. Dana stands up from her stool, pulls out a cotton gown and a sheet for Amelie before leaving so she can get changed. This time, I won’t be leaving the room. Seeing her naked is a sight I’m going to enjoy even if it is in an office building where we can’t take things any further.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“I won’t take long. Thank you for explaining everything.” I make a mental note to ask Parker to send me the title and author of the pregnancy book he keeps in the living room, hopeful Vanessa will catch on to his tactics. I’ve yet to hit the halfway point in the book. If only I had finished it, I probably would have seen the writing on the wall and known what to look for all along.