by A. M. Wilson
This evening took a couple of turns I didn’t expect. Our talk was uncomfortable, but I’m relieved we got some of it out of the way before we get further into this. If he questioned paternity later in the pregnancy, I don’t know how I’d handle it.
Now I just have to figure out the best way to break it to my parents.
7
Kiersten
A laboring mother may defecate, or poop, during the delivery process. But don’t worry! This is normal, and your nursing team has seen it all…
Nope.
I close the baby book Cami handed off to me at work last week and toss it on the floor. Now that my coffee table’s been decimated, I don’t have anywhere to put things when I’m sitting on the couch. A dirty book like that belongs on the floor anyway with other dirty things. I shiver, and not the good kind, at the thought of doing that in a room full of people.
My nerves ratchet up today as I wait for my first prenatal appointment. Four weeks have passed sluggishly since we found out the news. Nathan’s on shift today, so he isn’t sure if he’ll make it. He’ll try to dip out of work for the thirty minutes or so it’s supposed to take if calls are slow.
The appointment itself isn’t what has my stomach performing acrobatic flips, and I won’t hold it against him if he doesn’t show. The official confirmation of the pregnancy makes anxiety flare inside me. If everything looks good today, we’ve decided to tell our families this weekend. That’s the part that really has me wanting to poop my pants.
After drinking what feels like a gallon of water at the doctor’s request, I make the short drive over to the clinic, located on the south side of the county hospital, and get checked in.
I fiddle with my phone and bounce my knee, regretting not asking Nathan to find coverage or take an extended lunch break now that I’m here. My nerves sizzle like live wires beneath the surface of my skin. After a mere five minutes in the waiting room, a nurse in pink scrubs calls my name. I follow her to get weighed, have my vitals taken, and answer a lot of invasive questions.
Do you know the date of your last period?
How many alcoholic beverages do you drink in a week?
Do you know who the father is?
Are you considering other options?
I understand the need to gather as much information as possible, but maybe she could lube me up first and ease me into it.
The nurse isn’t outwardly judgy and takes down my answers without expression. She instructs me to undress from the waist down and leaves to retrieve the doctor.
Getting naked and climbing onto a table is hard to do with a full bladder. Goodness, I feel about to burst. Why did they say drink two to three glasses of water, and why did I stupidly take that to mean three? Couldn’t it have been one? My knee bounces double time while I wait.
A knock thuds on the door as it opens.
“Hello, Kiersten, I’m Dr. Fischer.”
“Hey, Doc,” I answer with a grimace.
She washes her hands and checks my chart before scooting toward me on her fun wheelie stool.
“A home test confirmed pregnancy. Congratulations. It looks like you think you’re about eight weeks, so we’re going to do some standard tests and an ultrasound today.”
She dons gloves with an ominous snap and maneuvers her silver instrument tray closer. I eye the sticks and swabs, plastic tubes, and speculum with trepidation.
“What sort of tests?”
“Good question. I’ll perform an internal exam, a PAP with an STI panel because some STIs can be harmful to a fetus, and we’ll go ahead and get an early ultrasound for confirmation. I’m sure you’re eager to see the little one, and we don’t need a urine or blood test if we’re confirming that way. If you don’t mind scooching forward until your bottom is at the edge and then putting your feet in the stirrups, we’ll get started.”
I do as I’m told. Once in position, I cross my hands on my stomach and study the ceiling. “Can we make this fast? I’ve been holding my pee for this ultrasound for an hour now and feel like I’m about to burst.”
She pats my knee placatingly. “Oh, poor thing. Of course. I’m going to lift the drape now if you can just drop your knees open. Yep, just like that. You’re going to feel the speculum, but it shouldn’t hurt.”
I’ve been through this before, so the pushing and stretching doesn’t surprise me. What does nearly pop me off the table is the added pressure from either my bladder or the pregnancy. Slight tingles shoot through me with the addition of the speculum. Oh, no, no, no.
I stare at the ceiling and attempt to count the holes in the tiles. Anything to keep from wiggling. I feel the sensation of a couple of repeated swabs, and then the speculum slides free. The tingling doesn’t go away. Closing my eyes, I suck several deep breaths through my nose.
“I know it’s uncomfortable, I’m sorry. Just the exam left, and we can get that ultrasound done.”
I nod but don’t verbally respond. I can’t be liable for what may come out of my mouth right now, so instead, I focus on taking deep breaths.
“You’ll feel pressure from my fingers. You’re doing great, Kiersten.”
Her gloved fingers enter me, and…oh, no. I’m going to pee. I’m going to…
Oh. Noooooo.
She feels one ovary and transfers to the next. The sensation of her moving inside me has me about to…
“Uh, Doctor?” I question breathily. I can’t believe this is happening.
“All done!”
As she removes her hand, the worst happens.
My face contorts in what I’m sure is the most pathetic O face in existence, and let’s just say, I won’t be winning any porn performance awards anytime soon. I shove my fist into my mouth in order to stifle the moan, but it’s useless. It’s coming and so am I.
I squeeze my thighs together and involuntarily arch my back, letting out a cross between a groan and a cry of shame just as a knock sounds on the door, and it opens fractionally.
“Ahhhhrrrggggg.”
I want to die.
“Oh, give us one second, please.”
“Sure.” Nathan’s voice sounds muffled from behind the door.
Oh my god.
Ohmygod.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.
Oh holy crap on a candle stick, that really just happened to me.
Dr. Fischer finishes washing her hands and returns to where I’m frozen in shame on the exam table.
“It’s quite normal, Kiersten. I can promise you aren’t the first woman to climax on my exam table.”
Oh my god, I really am in some amateur porn. What kind of clinic is this?
“I am so sorry,” I whisper in a small voice. Lord, I don’t know if you’re up there orchestrating this humiliation, but please take me out. Send an asteroid. Knock the whole clinic off the map. I’m so sorry for all the years of dirty, filthy sex I’ve partaken in, but I promise to remain celibate until marriage if you just do something!
I wait…
And wait…
Nothing except stretching awkward silence. My ears stain a permanent crimson.
“Will you just euthanize me right here, right now?”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Our bodies are marvelous things. If you want to get dressed, we can get that ultrasound. I’ll let the gentleman outside know you’re almost ready.”
“Thanks,” I mutter meekly.
I take it back, Lord. I’m going to have even more dirty, raunchy sex because that was the worst moment of my life.
Once she leaves, I dress in haste, ready to get out of here. I need a new doctor, stat. I’ll even drive out of town for my prenatal appointments because I can’t ever show my face in here again.
A rap on the door echoes, and the nurse from earlier pokes her head in.
“We’re ready to take you to ultrasound.”
I eye her with suspicion, wondering if she knows. When I step into the hall, I look to my right and make incredibly awkward eye contact with Nathan.
He knows. The pink hue coloring his cheeks is a tell. He must have heard the entire thing.
Kill me now.
Only after the nurse leaves us in the dark room to once again shuck my pants does Nathan break the silence.
“Do you want to tell me what happened in there?” His back is turned to give me some privacy, a vein of humor in his tone.
“Nope.”
I clamber on the table and rustle the flimsy paper sheet to let him know I’m covered. He joins me at the side of the bed.
“Because it sounded to me like she gave you an or—”
“Don’t you dare,” I snarl beneath my breath, aware someone could be lurking directly outside the door. “Don’t even think about saying it.”
Nathan rolls pillowed lips between his teeth. “Can I say that I’m jealous it wasn’t me giving it to you?”
Fu-crap.
“Ugh, don’t say things like that.” I conceal my face with both arms but peek through the gap. “I’m about to have a probe the size of a good dildo shoved inside me, and if I come again, I will literally die.”
Fascination rearranges his features. “Are you really?”
“Shut up. Pinch me or something.”
Nathan encircles my elbow and yanks my arm. “What do you think the tech would do if she walked in on me screwing you in the stirrups?”
I bare my teeth. “You. Are. Not. Helping.”
He grins an adorable, dimpled grin and leans over to deliver a peck on my downturned mouth. “I couldn’t help it. Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Please.” The heat in my cheeks recedes some.
The tech enters the room and starts the show. The probe isn’t as big as my earlier exaggerated statement, but after what happened during a standard pelvic exam, I can’t anticipate anything to go as expected.
“Are you two ready to see your baby?”
Nathan delivers my hand a sharp squeeze, and we study the black and white amorphous video.
“There.” She indicates the whitish blob within the square. “There’s your baby, and that little flicker in the middle is the heartbeat. You look to be right at eight weeks and three days.” She clicks on her computer.
Nathan and I are engrossed by the image. The baby is real. This little smudge of black and white is more than a mere bundle of cells. We created a life.
“Whoa,” he mumbles. He scrubs his hand across downturned lips. I crease my brow at his expression.
“You okay?”
He nods, but his pallor makes him look ill.
“Maybe you should sit down. There’s a chair behind you.”
He stumbles back heavily without a care to where he lands. His ass claims the seat, and his elbows support his weight on his thighs.
I stroke his forearm, hoping to provide comfort without words. On my third pass toward his elbow, he snatches my hand. I brace for him to throw it off. A squeak of surprise leaves me as he drags it tighter into his body and secures it to his mouth. His breath hits my skin in warm pants.
“Take your time, honey.” I return my attention to the screen to give him a modicum of privacy. The tech’s eyes glitter with questions. I subtly nod and hope she catches my meaning. He needs a minute, so let him have it.
She clicks a few more buttons on her machine. “We’re done here. I’ll just print out a few of these for the baby book!” Several pictures print off by her knee before she tears them off and hands them to me. “You can get dressed, and you’re good to go. You can stop by and make your next appointment for four weeks from now, or you can call and set it up when you get home.”
“Thank you so much.”
The door latches behind her. I wipe myself off and dress in order to speed walk to the conjoined restroom. When I return, Nathan hasn’t twitched. I’m afraid to break the silence, but I don’t have a choice. Our appointment is over.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Nathan rises and wipes damp palms on his navy uniform pants. He gestures for me to lead the way and waits patiently aside while I set up my next three appointments.
The sun blazes hot overhead as we step from the dim interior. I’m instantly blinded from the shock to my pupils. Nathan retrieves his shades, shielding me from his nonverbal thoughts.
“Are you okay to head back to work? Maybe you need a little time off.”
“Kiersten, I’m fine.” His hands slide into his pockets.
“If you say so. Here, these are for you.” I extend half the ultrasound pictures. “It doesn’t look like much more than a blob, but I thought you might want some for yourself or to show your mom.”
His shoulders rise toward his ears. “My mom?”
“Yeah,” I enunciate. “We agreed to tell our parents after this. Unless you aren’t ready. I don’t want to push you.”
Nathan shakes his head. “I’ll tell her. What about you? How will you tell your parents?”
“Um, I was hoping you’d make the trip with me?” I bite my bottom lip and scrunch my face. “Please? They know you, and they like you,” I rush out. “I think Mimi is a lot less likely to make a scene in front of you, and my dad won’t be able to talk crap about you to your face.”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea? You said it yourself; we aren’t a couple. What will we tell them when they ask?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something, but that part doesn’t matter. I’d like it if they could see us as a united front and in this together, even if I’m not wearing your ring.”
The words slip out in my customary sarcastic manner, but I’m a hundred miles off the mark when his face falls behind his shades.
“Nathan, I’m sorry.” I wish I could snatch the words and stuff them back into my mouth. His fist is on the verge of crushing the pictures.
“No problem. I’m going to head back to the rig before Cami worries why it’s taking so long.”
My heart twists so violently I’m certain arteries will burst right out of my chest.
“Okay. See you.”
While he heads back to work, I make a pit stop at the local pharmacy. I’m browsing the annoyingly broad selection of prenatal vitamins suggested on my discharge papers when my phone vibrates.
Nathan: I’ll go with you. Just let me know when.
Me: This weekend?
Nathan: I’ll pick you up Saturday. 8 a.m.
Me: Sounds good. And Nathan?
Nathan: Yeah?
Me: Thank you.
Nathan: Not a problem.
8
Kiersten
By the time Saturday morning rolls around, I look as lively as a week-old banana. With only a few hours of sleep under my belt, I change my clothes and make a hot cup of coffee in a daze. Nathan rolls up to my driveway promptly at eight, looking like he just walked off the pages of a photo shoot. His sexiness is hazardous to my vagina, and I briefly reconsider my whole “we’re just friends” campaign.
His navy blue button-down hangs loose over a pair of jeans, and he’s wearing his signature brown boots. His hair has the just fucked style I adore. I glance down at my oversized red sweatshirt and black leggings. This ladybug outfit could be making a trip to Walmart.
“Here, let me help you with that.” He takes the bag by my feet that I thankfully had the forethought to pack last night and hauls it over his shoulder. “Anything else you need to grab?”
A yawn bubbles up, and I stifle it. “Nope, that’s it. Thanks, lover boy.”
He tosses my bag to the back of the cab. “This is for you.” His finger taps the lid of some sort of pink concoction in a plastic cup.
I wrinkle my nose. “What is it?”
Executing a perfect U-turn, he directs us to the highway out of town. “It’s a breakfast smoothie. Tastes sweet, but there’s some good stuff mixed in.”
“Give it to me straight. I’m not a five-year-old. What do you mean by good stuff?”
“I mean healthy. Just drink it. It’ll wake you up.
”
I wave him off and rest my head in my hand against the window. The cloudy gray haze reflects the storm in my head. “I already had a cup of coffee.”
Nathan taps the brakes and cuts me a glance. “You can’t have coffee.” The chiding tone makes me bristle.
“I can’t? I didn’t know that.”
“Please tell me it was at least decaf.”
“Why would anyone drink coffee if not for the caffeine? That’s crazy talk.”
“You need to do a better job of taking care of yourself.” He jerks the wheel to merge onto the highway.
My spine bows like a twig about to snap. “Whoa, you need to seriously watch it. I didn’t know one cup was a big deal.”
He flexes his fingers on the wheel. “Today? One cup today or every day? Because there’s a big difference. There are risks linked to high caffeine consumption in pregnancy. Low birthweight not to mention preterm labor.”
“Well, I didn’t know, so chill. Yelling at me about it now isn’t going to change the past.”
“I’m not yelling!” he yells. A bubble of incredulous laughter bursts from me. “I’m just saying there are things you can’t do now, and some aren’t as obvious as the others. You should do some research.”
This is the longest car ride of my life. On a good day, it lasts around two hours, but at the rate we’re going, it already feels like we’ve been stuck together for twice that long.
My heart bangs beneath my ribs. A million questions rise to the surface, not one of them an end to the bickering. If anything, they’ll increase it. What I want to know is why he’s acting like this? Taking care of me is a surprise, but not out of his nature. The distressed concern bordering on panic is new for my levelheaded paramedic.
“It sounds like you’ve done enough research for us both,” I mutter beneath my breath.
“Real mature.”
To silence the retort clawing up my throat, I snatch the smoothie he brought me. Catching the straw between my lips, I suck back a greedy gulp. The taste of fruit and berries explodes like fireworks on my tongue, and I return for another drink.
“Do you like it?”