“Sorry I’m late,” Dr. Danielson said, walking straight to his swivel stool and sitting down. “We’re backed up on patients.”
“That’s okay,” I said quietly.
“Now let’s see here.” The doctor flipped open my chart. “It says you’re here because you’re dying?”
I looked back over at Nick. He grinned.
“I exaggerated a little bit,” Nick admitted.
“Well what does seem to be the problem?”
I tried to play it off as no big deal. I explained my queasiness and slight bouts of dizziness.
“We went to lunch and she got sick before she even took a bite of her BLT,” Nick added in. “She said it smelled horrible, but it tasted fine to me.”
Dr. Danielson sat, taking notes. He nodded.
“Let’s see, have you eaten anything different lately, either at home or at a restaurant, besides that BLT?”
I shook my head. “The BLT never made it to my mouth. But, to answer your question, no, I’m a creature of habit.”
“No cuts or open wounds?”
I shook my head.
“When was the date of your last period?”
I screwed up my face in thought. “I don’t remember.”
He looked up. “You don’t remember?”
I looked at him in frustration. “I only have a period like twice a year. It’s kind of hard to remember.”
He flipped back a few pages in his chart and began to read quietly.
“It says here you and your husband are trying to conceive; we reached the diagnosis of unexplained infertility,” Dr. Danielson announced, looking up. “Does that sound about right?”
I nodded. “That sounds current as of about a year ago. My husband and I are currently divorcing.”
“Oh I see.” The doctor looked over at Nick.
“I’m her boyfriend,” he said. I looked over at him. He was standing right by my side, his arms crossed like my own personal bodyguard.
“Any recent sexual activity?” the doctor asked, returning his attention to me.
“It’s been about three weeks or so,” I answered.
"Just because we've been in different states," Nick explained. Obviously, he wanted to clarify so as not to bruise his male ego.
“And you’ve been feeling sick for about a week?” the doctor asked. I nodded. He got up from his swivel stool, clipboard in hand.
“I’ll have a nurse bring you a urine test,” he said. He headed towards the door.
“Wait!” I called. He turned.
“Why do I have to take a urine test?”
“We’ll just rule out pregnancy,” the doctor explained.
I shook my head. “We just went over this. I can’t get pregnant.”
The doctor smiled. “You were diagnosed with unexplained infertility. Do you know how many women with that diagnosis come back a year, even ten years later and turn up pregnant? Sometimes nature has a way of working its own kinks out.”
The doctor closed the door behind him. I looked over at Nick.
He was staring at me, his eyes wide. The nurse walked in and handed me a cup.
“Two doors down on the left.”
I submitted my sample to the nurse and returned to the room to wait. Nick jumped up when I walked through the door, scooping me up in his arms. He kissed me softly. I thought he was being rather brave; considering my vomit record for the day.
“What?” I asked, as he set me down on the exam table. He smiled.
“While you were gone I actually realized what the doctor was saying,” Nick said. “And, if his suspicions are right, then that means,” he paused, his smile turning into a grin. “We’re going to have a baby.”
It was my turned to look surprised. I hadn’t expected the news to elicit such a response. We had been completely careless; but still…
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Danielson came back into the room. He smiled at both of us as he headed back to his stool. He flipped open my chart again.
“Well, folks, it looks like we’ve got a baby.”
My mouth fell open. I was shocked, thrilled, and…and there was another emotion that I couldn’t peg.
“I’m going to get a blood sample and then I’d like to do an ultrasound as a precaution,” Dr. Danielson said. “And I want to get a better idea of a due date.”
I turned my head as he drew a vial of blood. Nick squeezed my hand in support. After handing the vial off to a nurse, the doctor picked up the same instrument Nick was playing with earlier.
“Is that safe?” Nick asked. The doctor looked at him like he was crazy. Nick blushed and knelt beside me, taking my hand. He bounced gently on his heels.
Barely a minute later, I lay on the table, staring at a tiny blip on the ultrasound screen.
“Well, you’re definitely about six weeks along give or take,” Dr. Danielson said. “Lining looks good; he or she seems to be safe and snug.”
He rolled over to the counter, making notes on his chart. After another minute he gave me the all clear to sit up.
“Well, we’re going to put your due date as March 18,” he said. “Give or take a few days,” he winked.
“Is she, er they, okay to travel?” Nick asked. “We’ll be flying to Washington in a week.”
The doctor nodded.
“Yeah, that should be fine. Just nothing crazy; no rock climbing or deep sea diving.”
After shaking hands with me and Nick, the doctor left the room. I changed back into my street clothes. Nick was staring at a printout of the blip, a beaming smile on his face. When he looked over at me the smile diminished; I was frowning.
“This is good news, Liv,” Nick said softly. I pulled out my phone, taking a look at the calendar.
“Liv, what’s wrong?”
I sat back down on the exam table, my brow furrowed.
“Liv, talk to me.”
I looked over at him. “Nick, something’s been bothering me,” I said. I tapped the phone’s screen.
“The doctor said I’m due March 18. That would mean I conceived somewhere between June 22 and June 29.”
“We didn’t have sex until the 28th,” I licked my lips. “We were in Vegas the 22nd,” I reminded him softly.
He didn’t seem to get the implication at first; when he did he looked at me in horror.
“So, what you’re saying is,” he trailed off.
“I’m just saying there’s a possibility that this,” I motioned to my stomach. “could have happened in Vegas.”