Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Oh, okay,” I say, starting to get a little more comfortable with the idea. “Is it safe for the baby?”
“Yes,” she smiles before moving the wand between my legs and giving me a comforting stare. “Alright, Brianna. We’re going to get started. I need you to take a deep breath and relax. The gel will be cold, so be prepared for that.”
With that, Dr. Thompson gently pushes the wand inside me, and I’m distracted by the alien feeling, but it quickly fades away the second an image appears on the screen. I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking at. It all looks like weird mush to me, but I know my baby is somewhere inside that image.
Dr. Thompson moves the wand around, and I try not to think about it as she busily takes measurements. “Okay,” she says a few minutes later once she’s finally finished, pushing the screen aside to better face me. “You’re measuring seven weeks and four days. Unfortunately, I couldn’t quite get the heartbeat today, but we’ll be able to hear it at your next appointment.”
I let out a heavy sigh, a little disappointed but still so excited to be hearing any kind of news at all.” “Does everything look okay? Is he developing as he should?”
She gives me a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with some kind of secret. “I think you mean they.”
My brows furrow and I hold her stare, certain I heard her wrong. “I’m sorry?” I ask, my heart kicking into gear as my hands instantly grow clammy. She didn’t just say they, did she? I mean, is she trying to use pronouns in a bid to be politically correct since no gender has been allocated to the baby yet, or does she mean they, as in multiple? Because that’s simply insane. I can barely handle having to tell Carter that I’m pregnant with one baby, let alone two.
Dr. Thompson turns the screen right around and points at the black-and-white image. “Congratulations, Brianna. You’ve got twins in there,” she tells me, indicating separate areas of the screen. “This is baby A,” she says, pointing to a black blob before moving to the right, “and this here is baby B. You can see they share a sack which means they’re identical.”
Holy fucking shit.
This can’t be real, but there they are, right in front of my face, and I find myself shaking my head, unease blasting through my veins. One baby I could handle. One baby would be manageable on my own. But two? Fuck “Are you sure?” I ask her, more than ready to bail and find a second or third opinion—a million of them if that’s what it’ll take to make sure this ultrasound has been read correctly.
“Yes,” she laughs. “I’m positive. Do twins run in your family?”
Dread settles over my shoulders, weighing me down and keeping me pinned to the patient bed. “Uh-huh. I have a twin brother, and the father is an identical triplet,” I explain as my breath starts to come in hard, sharp pants. Hell, the more I think about it, the worse my gasps get. “Shit, I can’t breathe.”
“Okay,” the doctor says, helping me to sit up. She leans me forward so my head is practically between my legs, and I close my eyes, desperately trying to calm myself. “Take slow deep breaths. You’re okay. You’re just having a slight panic attack. It will pass in a moment.”
I do as she says and concentrate on the oxygen being sucked into my lungs before I slowly blow it back out again, and soon enough, I start feeling like my normal self again.
I slowly sit back up as she fills a glass of water and presses it into my hand. “Feeling better?” she questions, real concern in her eyes
“Better isn’t the right word for it,” I admit. “But you don’t need to worry about me passing out.”
“I’m glad,” she says with a soft chuckle before excusing herself to give me a little privacy to get my pants back on, and as she goes, my gaze lingers on the screen.
Twins.
Crap.
I get dressed and meet the doctor back in her office before taking a seat. She hands me a shitload of paperwork for more scans and blood work, then she talks to me about the importance of choosing the correct hospital and discussing all the millions of things I need to know about not only having one baby, but having twins.
At the end of the appointment, Dr. Thompson hands me a copy of the ultrasound that she has slid into a little cardboard frame, and the longer I sit with the idea of having two babies, the quicker my heart swells with overwhelming joy.
I grab my bag and go to leave her office before finding myself hovering in her doorway. “Definitely twins?” I question, one last time. After all, one could never be too sure.