Series: The Laws of Opposite Attract Series by Vi Keeland
Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 105253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Owen: I’d rather risk it than have you take the subway when you’re not feeling well.
Did he have to be so damn sweet? I already felt like shit.
Devyn: I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll take an Uber.
Owen: I really don’t mind driving you. I’ll wear a mask, if that’ll make you feel better.
Devyn: Thank you. I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I’m good.
Owen: Alright. But call me after to let me know what they say. Okay?
I was pretty sure I’d be telling more lies then. Yet I typed back.
Devyn: Sure. ☺
An hour later I was sitting in a paper gown, sweating as I waited for the doctor to come into the exam room. My leg bopped up and down, and I jumped at every noise I heard from the hallway. I was especially nervous since I’d had to pick a doctor from the Internet and wasn’t seeing my usual gynecologist from back home whom I knew and trusted.
After a few more minutes, the door opened and a woman who looked younger than her picture on the practice’s website walked in with a nurse in tow. She smiled warmly and extended her hand. “Hello. I’m Dr. Talbot. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi. I’m…” I extended my hand, but at the last second pulled it back and wiped it on my gown. Embarrassed, my face heated as I reached out a second time. “Sorry. I’m nervous. My name is Devyn Marks.”
“Hi, Devyn. Is there something particular you’re nervous about today?” She looked down at my chart. “I noticed you didn’t write the reason for your visit on your information sheet. Are you here for a checkup?”
I hadn’t been able to write the words. Saying them aloud was even harder. “I, umm…missed my period.”
“Okay. Are you sexually active and there’s a possibility you might be pregnant?”
I nodded.
“Are you on any form of birth control?”
“I have an IUD.”
“And how long ago did you get that?”
I frowned. “Just about seven years now. It’s due to come out. I had scheduled an appointment with my doctor in California to replace it, but then I unexpectedly had to come to New York, so I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I know the timeline is up to seven years, but I always use condoms too.”
She scribbled some notes. “And when was your last period?”
“April first. So I’m a few weeks late now. I don’t get much of a period since I had the IUD put in. Just some spotting, but I get that every month like clockwork.”
“Any other pregnancy symptoms? Nausea, breast tenderness, fatigue?”
I shook my head. “No. But I did take a home pregnancy test.”
“Oh. And that was positive?”
I frowned. “Four times. And actually, now that I think about it, I was sick once a few weeks back. But I thought it was something I ate.”
The doctor smiled and closed my chart. “Why don’t we do a quick examination and see what’s going on? Early pregnancy isn’t always detectable with a cervical exam. So after, we’ll do a sonogram and some bloodwork to be certain.”
“Okay.”
The nurse pulled out the dreaded stirrups while the doctor washed her hands and put on gloves. It was difficult enough to relax during any internal exam, but particularly when you’re a bundle of nerves wondering if you’re pregnant. Dr. Talbot did her thing and then wheeled over the portable sonogram machine without saying much for a long time.
“I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant, Devyn.”
Oh, God.
“I’m able to see the strings attached to your IUD, so I recommend removing it. Keeping it in has some increased risks for a pregnancy. I can do that now, if you want.”
My head was spinning, but there was no point in keeping it in. So I nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”
Removing it was quick and not nearly as painful as placing it had been. After, the doctor went back to scanning my belly.
“Would you like me to show you the pregnancy on the screen and perhaps try to hear the heartbeat? Or would you prefer I didn’t do that?”
I swallowed. The moment felt surreal, like I was watching it happen to someone else. So I thought it might make it more real if I saw it, maybe even heard it. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “I think so.”
Over the next five minutes, Dr. Talbot pointed to various things on the screen—my anatomy, the gestational sac, a tiny flashing dot that she said was the heartbeat, but just looked like a black oval with some fuzz on the screen. It still didn’t feel real.
Not until she reached for a dial on the machine and some crackling sounds came through the speaker. Dr. Talbot moved the wand some more, pushing a little deeper, and a swoosh swoosh sound echoed through the room.
Swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh. The sound was rapid, but consistent.