A Christmas Surprise: Bundle of Joy Series

by Grace, Kenna

  Adam took a seat at the edge of the bed and let out a sigh. “It’s fine dude, we can just do it another day. Seriously though, you may not feel like you’re pushing, but it certainly feels that way from the other side.”

  I stretched my arms above my head and let out a yawn. The only thing I wanted to do less than talk about my breakup was to talk about it before I even got out of bed. Still, Adam was my friend and I didn’t want him to feel like I was treating him as any less. “I’m sorry if that’s what I made you think, but I promise I’m perfectly fine with the relationship being over.”

  Just then, my temple started to throb. I placed a few fingers on either side of my head and massaged small circles of pressure. My eyes squinted as I became more aware of just how brightly the outside light was now shining through the window. “Mind shutting the blinds?” I groaned. “These headaches have been absolutely killing me lately.”

  Adam raised a brow and got up from the bed to close the blinds. “Dude, there’s barely any sun in here. Probably a sign you’ve been cooped up inside and moping around in the dark for too long.”

  I rolled my eyes again. My stomach started to churn and my mouth felt like it had an excess of saliva. I reached for the cup of water on my nightstand and took a few steps, but it didn’t seem to help. “I haven’t been moping around,” I muttered.

  “Really? What would you call spending most of your days curled up in bed? Hell, you didn’t even show up for fishbowl Friday.”

  My stomach churned again. Just the thought of the smell of alcohol made me queasy. “I haven’t been moping around,” I repeated. “I just haven’t been feeling well lately.”

  Adam took a seat back down on the bed and nodded. “Haven’t been feeling well since you and Clay split up? Yeah, totally sounds like you’re over him.”

  I threw one of my pillows at him. “You’re so not funny.”

  “Wasn’t trying to be. I’m just saying, the worst thing you can do is lock yourself up and get lost in your thoughts. The sooner you get back to your normal routine, the better.”

  There was a moment of silence between us. He was absolutely right if the breakup was affecting me that much. But it wasn’t, really. Sure, Clay was on my mind a lot, and I missed spending time with him. Maybe I even missed the way he made me feel, but it was completely normal to feel that way. It wasn’t like I was letting my emotions getting in the way of my life. Not really. Well, no more than normal.

  I swung my legs off the bed to stand up, but I immediately regretted the decision and laid back down. Little flecks of light danced in my vision. “I think I’m going throw up.”

  “What?” Adam said. “Are you serious?”

  I raised a closed fist to cover my mouth and nodded my head. It was still a little early for flu season, so my immediate suspicion was the gas station chili dogs I scarfed down a few days ago after getting a craving I couldn’t kick. “Pretty sure it’s food poisoning, should be back to normal in a day or two.”

  Adam raised a brow. “Hmph.” He eyed my near empty glass of water. “Want a refill?”

  My stomach started to churn again and the throbbing in my temple made it almost impossible to concentrate. “I’m good, thanks. Think I might just try to catch a couple more hours of sleep.”

  “Alright, but if you’re actually feeling that sick, maybe you should go to a doctor’s and see what’s up. Saw a documentary a couple nights ago about some sort of superbug. Never know, especially living in NYC. The subway practically screams breeding ground.”

  “Geez, well that makes me feel so much better.”

  He let out a chuckle. “I’m just saying, better safe than sorry, right?”

  I nodded. A checkup definitely wouldn’t hurt, but it also wouldn’t be easy. Despite just waking up, my energy was practically nonexistent. The constant chattering of New York, and its plethora of unique scents, was another ordeal on its own. “Well, I’ll see how I’m feeling in a bit first.”

  Adam shrugged. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t try to help. Anyways, I’m out. Hit me up later if you want, we can grab a movie and a bottle of wine or something.”

  Ugh. Alcohol. I curled back up on my side and snuggled a pillow against my chest.

  Soon after he left, I got up from bed. Despite how tired and exhausted I was feeling, I couldn’t seem to fall back asleep. After some back and forth arguing to myself, I decided to follow Adam’s advice and get a checkup. Whether I was coming down with the flu or just paying the price for testing my luck with gas station food, the trip out would at least get him off my back.

  By the time I took a quick shower and threw on a fresh change of clothes, the queasiness in my stomach had practically dissipated. Originally, I threw on a pair of jeans, but due to feeling a little bloated and uncomfortable, I opted for a pair of sweats. I could still feel my temples pulsating, but I figured a dark pair of shades would at least make the trip a little more bearable.

  * * *

  The buzzer chimed.

  My eyes jolted to the display screen above the reception desk. Number twenty-four. I pulled my ticket from my pocket. Twenty-six. I sighed. I’d been at the walk-in clinic for nearly an hour now and was beginning to run out of patience.

  I couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. I bounced my foot on the ground as I read through month-old fashion magazines and got my hopes up every time someone walked through the discharge exit. I didn’t know how it was possible to see so many patients leave, but so few buzzed in.

  Was this all really worth it? I mean, between the near hour I’d already been waiting and the forty-five-minute round trip on the subway, and that was if everything ran on time, I was questioning my decision to even come. Two hours seemed like a lot of time to waste to be told to drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.

  Another twenty minutes went by before the buzzer chimed again. I glanced up from my magazine and scanned the room. “Anytime now,” I muttered to myself.

  A few moments passed and nobody in the room had made their way to the intake entrance yet. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe someone had got just as tired waiting as I had. I wished they had. Surely there wouldn’t be much of a wait for me if nobody declared the slot.

  “Number twenty-five?” a voice prompted over the intercom.

  A few people in the waiting room fumbled around looking for their tickets.

  Suddenly, a woman come streaming out of the washroom. “Yes, twenty-five, right here,” she said, rushing towards the door.

  I let out a sigh. It would have been in frustration if it wasn’t for the young child she was leading behind her. The child looked annoyed. Then again, why wouldn’t they be? They would have been waiting at least as long as I had. Still, I couldn’t help but resonate with the look of displeasure plastered across the kid’s face.

  Snaking a few fingers into my pocket, I tugged out my phone. A creeping feeling of turbulence washed over me when I realized I’d done it reflexively to see if Clay had texted me. Of course, he hadn’t. And even if he had, I wouldn’t have replied. He made it very clear he wasn’t interested anymore. And why? Because I wasn’t Charlie? I didn’t have all the amazing qualities Nick had told him Charlie had? Sure, what I did was wrong, there was no way around that. But what we had felt real. A real connection. Apparently, I just wasn’t enough. No, he needed to see what he was missing. He needed to see just how amazing some other omega was, because someone told him they would be a good match.

  I clenched my fist and inhaled a sharp breath. Always good for now, but never good enough. I tossed the magazine back into the stack of them on the table in front of me. I didn’t want to be here anymore. Besides, I was already feeling better. Just as I stood from my seat to barge out of the clinic, the buzzer chimed.

  “Number twenty-six.”

  My fist balled the ticket into the palm of my hand. I glanced at the clock. If I left now, I could make the next train leaving from the station. I glanced out the window and then to the intake doors.


  “Number twenty-six.”

  My eyes drifted shut as I took a couple of deep breaths. I was already here, my number was just called. It would be a massive waste of time to leave now. My tongue wet my lips. “Yeah, right here,” I said, not sure whether I regretted my decision to speak up or not.

  I made my way to the intake doors and waited for them to unlock. When the red LED sensor shifted green, I pressed forward. I followed the long, narrow hallway until I reached the second to last door and entered, taking a seat.

  “Elliott Shores?”

  “All five foot, ten inches, and a hundred seventy pounds of me.”

  The slim physician in his white lab coat glanced up at me from his clipboard. “Funny you should say that.”

  I raised a brow. “Why’s that?”

  “First thing I’m going to need to check.” He shot me a smile. “Mind stepping on the scale for me?”

  “What, you don’t trust me?” I joked. I moved over to the scale and waited until the doctor zeroed it off.

  He gave me a nod and motioned for me to step on. “Is all this really necessary,” I glanced down at his gold-plated name tag, “Dr. Rizza?”

  “Standard procedure, unfortunately,” he replied, sliding the first of three steel knobs. “Gives us an accurate unit of measure for future records.” He began shifting the second knob.

  Seemed fair enough. I paid little attention as he tapped the second knob inch by inch and then the third. I’d come in at one-seventy for as long as I could remember.

  “And… We’re coming in here at one-eighty point two.”

  My eyes shot back to the scale. “One-eighty?” I said. I turned to face Dr. Rizza, who was already logging the number. Quickly, I glanced down at the bottom of the scale to see if he was just messing with me and had his foot placed somewhere on the track.

  “Huh,” I said, puzzled. “Guess I should start watching what I eat more closely.”

  His lips tugged up into a smile. “Shouldn’t we all.” He let out a chuckle. “Still in a normal range though, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

  I moved back to the table.

  He took a seat in an office chair near a desk in the back corner and rolled himself in closer. “So, Elliott, what brings you in today?”

  Feeling a little embarrassed to admit I showed up at a clinic for an oncoming flu, cold, or at worst, food poisoning, I ran a hand through my hair and diverted my eyes to the floor. “I’m here to give my friend some peace of mind and get him off my back more than anything, really. Feeling a little nauseous when I first get up. A little more tired than usual. Kind of like I had a long day despite working a pretty sedentary job.”

  Dr. Rizza jotted down a couple notes. “And how long would you say you’ve been feeling this way?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. A week, maybe a little longer.”

  “Any mood swings or anything else out of the ordinary?”

  A chuckle escaped the back of my throat. “Mood swings? Only if you ask the guy who pressed me into coming.”

  He looked up at me and gave me a warm smile. “Your partner?”

  I laughed harder. “Adam? No, just a friend. A friend who likes to exaggerate things a little too much, if you ask me.”

  “A good friend always does.” He gave me a wink. “So, you gained roughly ten pounds compared to your estimate. Have you had any recent life changes, stressful or otherwise? Perhaps a dietary change?”

  I raised a brow and shrugged. The split with Clay still hurt, emotionally, but I definitely wasn’t the type of person to eat my emotions. And certainly, I wasn’t the type where a breakup would have an effect on my physical health. I mean, I was with my ex-fiancé for years. I felt like shit for a while, but it didn’t make me actually throw up or anything. I liked Clay. A lot. More than I thought I could after only knowing him for less than three months.

  Still, I was already here and Adam was certainly going to ask if I brought up my breakup. I could lie and just say I did, but that just seemed like a tiring white lie to invest in. “Well, me and a guy I was seeing split up a couple weeks ago, but I’m totally over it,” I finally admitted. It was only slightly untrue. I wasn’t completely over him, but there was no point dragging on this visit any longer than needed.

  Dr. Rizza scribbled some more notes.

  I glanced down at his clipboard to see what he was writing, but he may have well been writing in hieroglyphs with the amount I was actually able to make out. “Honestly, I think I’m just catching a cold or some weird May flu strain. Had a gas station chili dog craving a few days ago, wouldn’t completely rule that out either.”

  He nodded. “I see.”

  I kicked my legs out in front of me while I waited for some generic physician advice. “So, what’s the orders, Doc? Cold meds, plenty of shut eye, and some chicken noodle soup?”

  After jotting a couple more things down, he set his clipboard on his lap and clasped his hands together over top of it. “You and this guy you were seeing…”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Did you practice safe sex?”

  My eyes went wide at his question. I knew where he was headed, but it definitely wasn’t possible. “Yes, this one time we got paint on ourselves, though. I’m not sure it wasn’t toxic,” I replied, jokingly.

  Dr. Rizza didn’t laugh.

  “I’m not on birth control, but we always used a condom before penetration.”

  He returned to his notes.

  My heart started pounding in my chest and I could feel my hands start to slip along the plastic on the medical table as sweat built up on my palms. I started second guessing myself, but no, Clay and I definitely used a condom. Hell, there was no way I’d have sex with someone without protection unless it was something we had already discussed.

  Suddenly, my heart sank and my stomach started to churn. I began to feel nauseous. Not my recent morning type of nauseous, no, the suddenly smack you in the face, flip your stomach upside down, sudden realization when you remember the condom broke that one time type of nauseous.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled.

  Dr. Rizza arched his brows and looked up at me from his clipboard.

  “About ten weeks ago we had a condom that broke on us. Clay, the guy I was seeing, said he was sure it only happened when he was taking it off, though.”

  He crinkled his nose and tossed his head. “I’d like you to meet with our radiologist for an ultrasound.”

  My jaw hung slack and a cold sweat broke over my body. “Are you sure that’s necessary? I mean, you don’t really think I’m pregnant, do you?”

  “I couldn’t say, but the timeline and symptoms do match up. A quick ultrasound will clear everything up, though. I’m going to go ahead and transfer you now, is that alright?”

  My mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come out. I nodded my head.

  For a few minutes, I sat there slack jawed and wide eyed as I tried to process everything. There was no way I was pregnant. It was just a cold. A flu. Food poisoning. A lump rose in my throat and I swallowed it back. Who was I trying to convince? Patiently, I waited while Dr. Rizza made a call. Despite only being a few feet away and speaking loud and clear, I couldn’t make out a word he had said. Every second felt like passed in a slow motion of blurs.

  “Elliott?”

  I glanced up from the floor to see Dr. Rizza standing with another man in a white lab suit at the examination room door.

  “This is Dr. Slurry, our unit’s radiologist. If you could please follow him, he will show you to the ultrasonography room.”

  Standing from the medical table, I followed the radiologist into a room around the corner and a little ways down another hall. I took a seat on another medical table while disbelief continued to rifle through me.

  “Would you mind removing your shirt and placing your legs on the table?” Dr. Slurry asked.

  I complied.

  He took a seat on a chair next to me. “Is this your first ultrasound?”

&
nbsp; I nodded my head.

  “Alright, well, I’ll give you a quick breakdown of what I’m going to do then.” He grabbed a bottle from a shelf which housed a computer and monitor. “This is ultrasound gel. I’m going to apply a thin layer to your lower stomach. This is just to help eliminate air bubbles and secure a connection for the transducer. It should be warm and will cause you no discomfort. Can I go ahead and apply a thin layer?”

  Again, at a loss for words, I simply nodded my head.

  He spread a thin layer over my stomach with his blue latex gloves. “Now this,” he continued, “is a transducer.” He showed me a small probe looking device. “Basically, this device sends high frequency sound waves into your body in whatever area it is placed on. The transducer then collects the sound that bounces back and the computer then uses those sound waves to produce an image on the video display screen.” He reached for the screen and angled it so I had a clear view. “Again, this will be absolutely painless.”

  Dr. Slurry positioned the transducer on my stomach and began to make small circular motions. Suddenly, the video monitor started to beep and a black and white image was depicted on the screen. I watched with my eyes glued to nonsensical blobs and shapes as the machine sent and received sound frequencies.

  “Ah, there we go.”

  My chest started to rise and fall rapidly and my breathing became sporadic. Millions of questions instantly were brought to light, but my questions only led to more questions. There we go what? What does that mean? Is there we go good or bad? How did I even feel about this? What did I consider good or bad? Was I pregnant? Was I ready to be pregnant? What about Clay?

  He pointed a finger to bean-shaped figure on the screen. “See that right there?”

  “Is it? Am I?”

  Glancing over to me from the screen, his lips tugged up into a smile. “Is it a baby and are you pregnant? Yes, and yes.”

  So many emotions flooded through me I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. When just then…A flicker on the screen. Then another. Another.