The Pregnancy Test (The Marin Test Series Book 3)

by Amanda Aksel

  “Hello?” I answered, sounding panicked.

  “Hello . . . Marin . . .? This is Diana. Your nine o'clock is here to see you,” our office assistant’s voice tiptoed as usual.

  I sighed, debating on whether I should just march over to Dr. Pia’s office. Then I remembered that if I needed Dr. Pia, that meant my patients needed me too. “Send her in,” I said and hung up the phone.

  While I waited for my patient to walk through the door, I practiced the breathing techniques I preached, redirecting my thoughts to the task at hand. Four o’clock was seven hours away. No matter the results, I wasn't pregnant and I wasn’t caring for a baby yet, but I could care for my patient.

  Later that morning, Katie peeked her head in my office as I was updating records.

  “What's up?” I asked, looking at her over the rim of my reading glasses.

  “I need to talk to you about something?” She wrung her hands a little and bit her bottom lip. I braced myself.

  “Yeah, sit down. What's going on?” I asked, setting my tablet on the desk.

  She sat down and scooted the chair closer. She lowered her eyes and I could tell whatever she was about to say was not only bad, it was important. I held my breath. “Part of the reason I brought up the idea of another partner was because I knew my ex was moving to Dallas for work. He's been gone for three weeks now and I have full custody of the kids. My workload is insane, which was fine when he was here and could help me with the kids, but now it's too much. So, I want to talk to you about taking on some of my patients.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, breathing normally again. This was important for sure, but it wasn’t bad. “So how many patients are we talking about?”

  She chewed her lip. “Like . . . twenty-five percent of them.” She squinted as if she were waiting for the blow of the news to come back and hit her in the face.

  My eyes shot open. “Twenty-five percent!”

  “I know. It's a lot.”

  It was a lot. My patient list would increase by nearly forty percent, which would be great for my income, but detrimental to my spare time. “Why not give it to Andy?” I asked. Three years ago I would’ve jumped at the opportunity. Why was I so hesitant?

  “Oh, I'm giving him about twenty-five percent of my patients too.” She smiled like a mom placating her kids about who got the bigger half of the cookie. The only difference was I wasn’t sure I wanted half the cookie.

  I shook my head, holding up my palm. “So, wait. You're giving up half of your patients to us? Can you afford to do that?”

  Katie tilted her head side to side, seeming to weigh the actual cost. “It's going to be tight, but yeah. I want to be around for my kids.”

  I leaned back in my chair and blew my side-swept bangs away from my face. “Yeah, I mean, how can I say no?”

  She smiled and placed her hand over her chest. “What a relief. Thank you so much, Marin. And don't worry, I'm giving all the crazies to Andy.” Was she doing that because she didn’t think I could handle crazy or because she didn’t want to burden me anymore? She gave me the quick version of her transition and left my office before I could change my mind.

  The news of increased work suddenly became more nerve wracking than my test results. What if today was the day I found out that my workload would nearly double AND that I couldn’t have a baby? Would that be a sign that children were just not in my future but a big career was? My chest tightened and I rushed over to Andy’s office like my hair was on fire. When I got inside, I slammed the door behind me.

  He peered up from his desk with a look that made me think my locks were actually aflame. “Whoa! What's happening?”

  I pressed myself against the door, heaving, and feeling a little faint. “I'm just having a slight panic attack.”

  “Why?” He walked around his desk, keeping his tone and expression serious.

  I peeled myself off the door and crept over to his talking couch. I lay on my back in the middle of the dark-brown leather sofa, my legs hanging off the armrests and the back of my hand draped over my forehead. “Because I'm going to the doctor this afternoon to find out the results of my fertility test and Katie just gave me a quarter of her patients.” I grabbed the throw pillow from the corner of the couch and pressed it against my face, screaming into it.

  “Marin. It’s going to be fine. Just keep breathing.” His footsteps drew closer, but treaded lightly on the low carpet.

  I took the pillow off of my face and hugged it close to my chest. Andy hovered over me with worry practically dripping from his face. “Maybe we should get that other partner. I mean, what if Katie ends up giving up all her patients and you and I are forced to work sixteen-hour days,” I uttered that part in a foreboding whisper. “Which means I'll never even have time to have sex with my husband in order to have a baby that I don't even know that I’m capable of having?” I pushed the pillow back onto my face, thinking I might’ve been crazy enough in the moment to smother myself.

  Andy lifted the pillow and threw it to the other side of the room. Good thinking, Andy. “Well, I'm not giving up my sex life so yeah . . . maybe we should consider another partner.”

  I took a deep breath and sat upright, covering my face with my hands. “No, sorry. I'm just freaking out. Let's focus on one thing at a time.”

  “Good idea.” Andy pulled a chair over and sat across from me.

  I looked up at him with an awkward expression. “Do you have a valium or something?”

  “Uh, no.”

  My skin was starting to itch and I began scratching at my arms and neck. “Actually, do you have some time right now? I think I could use a therapy session.” Even though I was pretty sure we were already having one.

  Andy cleared his throat and shot me his tough-love smile. “Listen, I'm flattered that you want me to be your therapist again, but I can't do that now.”

  “What do you mean? Why?” I whined.

  “Because you're not just my colleague anymore, you're my friend.” The way he said it made it sound like a confession. Andy was professing his friendship to me, even though it had gone without saying. I blushed a little at his sincerity.

  “Aww, Andy! I never knew you felt that way about me,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, yes you did. But seriously, I can't give you uninterested party advice anymore. But I can talk to you as your, you know . . .”

  “What? My friend?” I asked.

  He shifted his eyes to the side. “Yeah, that.”

  I leaned back on the couch. “Okay, friend. How am I going to get through the next three hours? The anticipation is killing me!”

  “You're going to be nervous, maybe even afraid, but you have to focus on what you can control. Like breathing. And not suffocating yourself with any pillows.”

  I nodded slowly, replaying his words, then wrinkled my nose at him. “That sounded an awful lot like counseling.”

  “Well, your friend happens to be a counselor.” Andy slapped his thighs and stood up. I reluctantly let him help me up off the couch. “The best way to get through the next few hours is to busy your mind with work. So get to it, okay?”

  “Okay.” I sighed.

  He walked back to his desk as I headed for the door. I turned back just as he was taking his seat. “Thanks,” I said.

  He said nothing, but sent me a friendly smile.

  In the moments that I wasn’t immersed in work that afternoon, I practiced those breathing exercises all the way until I got to the clinic and Dr. Pia sat down at her desk across from James and me. He held my hand tightly in his, the warmth of his palm keeping me steady though both of our legs were fidgeting. Dr. Pia pulled up our file, studying it for a few minutes as we waited. She looked up from her tablet with a happy smile. Not a pity smile.

  “So, how are you two doing?” she asked.

  I leaned forward. “We're fine. What are our results?” I asked, practically running the sentences together.

  “Marin!” James called, shooting me
a strict glance then looked to her. “We're doing good. How are you?”

  “Very well, James. Thank you for asking. Okay, I know you’re anxious so I have positive news.”

  Wasn’t it dangerous for a fertility specialist to use the word positive for anything other than a positive pregnancy test?

  She continued. “First, we'll start with James. Your sperm count looks good. Everything is normal. Healthy.”

  “What a relief,” James said with a sigh, squeezing my hand. “What about Marin?”

  “Marin, your ovary function is normal. Your test came back negative for any diseases or conditions related to infertility. So your test results are good too. There is no medical reason for you two not to get pregnant.”

  James looked at me, smiling like we’d won the lottery. “That's great, right?”

  I dropped my head and chewed on my bottom lip. Why wasn't I relieved? James was healthy. I was healthy. Why the hell had we not gotten pregnant yet? “I don't understand. We've been trying for a year and nothing. Not even a miscarriage. There has to be a reason. A medical reason. Are you sure you didn't miss anything? Can we run the labs again?”

  Dr. Pia flattened her hands on the desk and her expression changed from cheerful to firm. “I assure you that these results are accurate. There is no medical reason that you cannot conceive.”

  Maybe medicine couldn't explain it, but there had to be a reason. Was it the two of us together? Was it karma rearing its moral head for my not-so-moral behavior in the past? Or were we simply not meant to get pregnant? It was too much to think about.

  “So what are our best options?” I asked. Focus on what I could control, right?

  “Getting pregnant is a pretty miraculous thing. The conditions in your body have to be perfect. In vitro fertilization is definitely going to be your best option.” Her slender fingers made air quotes around the phrase “best option.”

  “Do you really think it's necessary for us to jump right into IVF?” James didn’t look too keen on the idea. Not long ago he had treated a patient who had gone through three rounds of IVF and still no baby. According to him, that was all she could talk about; the intense hormones, how heartbreaking each of the negative tests were, and the strain it put on her marriage.

  “No. IVF can be taxing, not to mention expensive. If you want to try something outside of natural conception, we should talk about intrauterine insemination.”

  Artificial insemination, huh? How romantic.

  I took my hand from James and folded my arms over my chest. “Well, apparently, my husband has already made several deposits at the sperm bank.” I shifted my stare his way. “So at least you don't have to jerk off into a cup again.”

  The doctor’s eyes widened and her brows nearly reached her hairline.

  “Ummm,” James uttered.

  Dr. Pia averted her stare from us. “I think I’ll step out for a few minutes and let you two talk.” She rose slowly from her desk then stepped lightly toward the door.

  “Thank you, doctor,” James said.

  She shut the door, leaving us to “talk.” Alone. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with him, the man I apparently couldn't conceive a baby with. I couldn't look at him either.

  “I know you're upset—” he started, shifting in his chair.

  “I don't want to talk about it.” I kept my glare forward, my arms crossed, and my jaw clenched.

  “What I don’t understand is why? This is good news.” I knew he wanted me to be as happy and relieved as he was, but there had to be more to the story. I’d been doing some reading, of course, and that kind of news wasn’t uncommon for people who had tried and tried and tried and still no baby.

  I dropped my arms in my lap and picked at the edges of my nails. “You’re right. It’s good news. But it’s also bad news.”

  “Why?” he asked, touching my shoulder, but I still wouldn’t look at him because if I did I knew I’d cry. Instead, I imagined a protective bubble around myself, not a pretty pink or clear bubble, but murky like a cloud of pollution that kept me safe. Separate.

  “It’s called unexplained infertility and we have it. There was a seventy-five percent chance of conceiving last year and we didn’t. This year it would be even less, and less, and less as time went on. I knew we had options,” I said with air quotes. “I just wanted to do it the conventional way.” I let my eyes move in his direction and he touched his fingers gently to my cheek. Tears were already puddled at the rim of my eyelid and they spilled onto my face the moment I blinked.

  James gave me a pity smile and pulled me into his chest, smoothing my hair with his hands. “Marin, as much as you think you are, you’re not a conventional woman. I know this isn’t as easy as we thought it would be, but it’s not impossible.”

  I sobbed, keeping my head buried, my tears soaking his flannel shirt. “I just want us to have a family.”

  He took my shoulders in his hands and lifted me out of my ball. “Look at me. We already are a family, remember? You, me, and Marvin. We're healthy and happy. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, my chin trembling. He wiped my wet cheeks with his thumbs and gently kissed my forehead.

  “Why don't we grab some ice cream on the way home?” James suggested.

  I took a deep breath. “That sounds good. Thanks.” Every time we got the frozen treat, it reminded me of the first time that we met. How he helped me off the ground, patched up my knee, and bought me ice cream. And how he did it again after I almost lost him forever . . . the first time.

  Knock. Knock.

  The door creaked open. “How's it going in here?” Dr. Pia asked.

  “Fine,” I said, sniffing back any lingering tears.

  She took a seat at her desk and interlocked her fingers. “So what did we decide?”

  We had only discussed as far as ice cream. But I knew what I wanted to do. I just wasn’t sure how my husband felt about it. Since he’d have to meet the cup again. I recoiled a little thinking what that must be like. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it either.

  James glanced at me, keeping my hand safe in his, then looked to Dr. Pia. “I think we would like to try intrauterine insemination.” My heart leapt against my chest. Best. Husband. Ever. I grinned and he smiled with that surprise-I-got-you-a-gift look. It was a gift, and if we were lucky, it’d be a baby too.

  “Great!” Dr. Pia said. “Let’s schedule your next appointment.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Army Insemination

  It was almost bedtime. Out of the corner of my eye I watched James flex his bicep as he scrubbed his teeth purposefully in front of the wide vanity. I brushed mine standing beside him with less purpose as I diverted my attention to my calendar on the phone, not believing that it was already eight days into February.

  “Dammit!” I let out with a few toothpaste suds.

  James glanced at me in the mirror. “What?”

  “My birthday's next week,” I said, my frown exaggerated by the toothpaste caked to the corners of my mouth.

  His eyebrows bounced up and down as he smirked. “I know. Aren’t you excited?”

  I shot him a dirty look. He knew I wasn't excited. Thirty-five was a big deal. It was almost forty! And forty was a really big fucking deal. Of course, my birthday didn't totally sneak up on me. Ever since James and I saw Dr. Pia, I'd been very aware of my ticking clock. But seeing it on the calendar only a handful of days away transformed the event from abstract to totally effing real. I was going to be thirty-five and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “It's also Valentine's Day, you know,” he said, nudging me with his hip.

  True. I kinda resented the holiday for overshadowing my birthday, especially the years where I didn’t have a so-called Valentine. But times had changed. I had a lifelong Valentine and so I could embrace the interference. “Then why don’t we celebrate Valentine's Day and completely skip my birthday?” I wiggled my shoulders and hips a little, trying to make it sound like t
he best idea ever. It was the same dance I did when I tried to get James to watch romcoms at the movie theater with me.

  He finished rinsing his mouth and squished his eyebrows together as he wiped his face with the towel. “You don't want to do anything for your birthday? Not even a night out with your friends? I feel like you haven't seen them much since Katie handed you all those patients.”

  I grabbed the towel from him and patted my own mouth dry. “I know I should, but I don't feel much like drinking and partying since we're trying to get pregnant.”

  James tilted his head. “Wait. I thought the no drinking came after you got pregnant.”

  “I don't want to chance it.” I threw the towel on the sink and leaned into the mirror, examining my face for new lines and the one thing that threatened Asian, and Asian-American women like me, the most—sunspots.

  James stepped behind me and grabbed on to my waist. “That's too bad. You're really cute after two glasses of wine.” He ran his hands down the side of my thighs, then up my body and spun me around. “Why don't I take you out on your birthday.”

  “Uh-uh,” I said, waving my finger in front of his face

  He rolled his eyes. “On Valentine's Day.”

  “That's better.” I flashed him a flirty look.

  He kissed my neck, running his lips up my skin until he reached my ear then whispered, “Anywhere you want to go?”

  “Not sure,” I said, tracing my finger down his back. We hadn’t had sex all week and with all the hormones from the IUI treatment, I was ready for him to ravage me if I didn’t get to him first. I bit my lower lip when I felt just how ready he was too. Dammit!

  “I have an idea of where we could go right now.” His warm, strong hands ran up my stomach under my T-shirt, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. He kissed the side of my face, making his way to my mouth. The moment I felt his kissable lips on mine, I wanted him more than ever. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

  “We can't,” I said, pushing him away. “We're doing the insemination in two days and I need you to save your juices. Besides, this treatment is making me bloated as hell.” I looked down at my swollen belly. While I usually hated the bloated look, I pretended that I was going into my second trimester.