I can hear chatter in the great room. I follow the sounds down the stairs. Tabitha plays with an overjoyed Margaret, calling out compliments as the toddler happily gnaws on a big, red ring. I smile at the view. She keeps her child with her at all times yet knows exactly when to not give her too much attention. She looks up at me.
"Are you ready to go?" She asks.
I nod my head. She picks up her child and places her on her hip. We walk out of the door together. Mother by mother.
The inside of the building smells much too metallic for comfort. I shuffle in my seat and look around the waiting room. No matter what, I can't get away from hospitals. I was mentally and physically fucked by two men. The wide array of women is somewhat peculiar. Some have bulging bellies while others have petit bumps such as mine; even a rare one or two show no sign of swelling at all.
"Ana?" If I had a nickel for every time someone said my name as a question, I could pay all of my medical bills without my insurance.
I stand and walk to the nurse. Tabitha follows me with Margaret in her arms. The corridor is painted an ugly yellow and looks too new. This whole building looks like it was made yesterday. The rich smell of construction lingers in the corners. The nurse leads me to a room with a large blue bed that has a white slip of tissue paper over it. I timidly sit on the bed. The walls are covered in little decals of teddy bears with wall trimming to match. The gaunty violet paint is much too violent. |
A huge white machine that slightly resembles a 1990s computer is placed next to the bed. A wide, purple keyboard is attached to the bottom of it. The nurse sits on a stool in front of it and smiles.
"My name is Erica, and I'll be helping you today." She is way too excited about her job. Then again, if I got to see babies every day, I'd love my job too.
I lie down and pull my shirt up. The bump is much larger when I am lying down. She leans over me and holds a clear bottle of blue gel. The container oddly looks like a ketchup dispenser.
"This will be cold," she warns me.
She squeezes the gel onto my lower abdomen and a shiver goes up my spine. I had not realized how sensitive those nerves were until after the shocking gel touched them. She picks up a device that is attached to the ultrasound machine. In one elaborate move, she twists the cord around her wrist and holds the device in her palm. She presses it against my stomach and moves it around for moment. A dark picture appears on the screen. I can't make out anything until she moves it more to the left and a pocket is shown. My uterus sits in the picture, looking swollen as ever. Inside it is a white smudge. A small pebble has made its nest in my body.
"Do you see it?" She says, her smiling growing wider. I sigh out with an enormous amount of relief. My worries about their father wash away. This is my baby. I am going to be a mother. I don't care about anything else. I sound like a broken record to everyone but myself. If I don't convince myself of this, then I know I will fail.
"From measurements, it looks 7 weeks and 6 days gestation," Erica announces
My smile grows even wider.
"You can tell this early?" The excitement rises in my body.
"We can make a prediction," she tells me. "There is a chance it could be wrong, but it's fairly accurate."
I look over at Tabitha whose smile is beginning to match mine.
"Yeah, I want to know."
The doctor moves the device around more until the baby's profile moves.
"They are a real mover," Erica jokes. I laugh with her. I have been set into a weird type of euphoria. Not one that can be produced by pills or caffeine but one that is purely instinctual.
"Here we go," Erica says, moving the device a centimeter.
"It looks like a boy."
A lightness bubbles up from my stomach. It pushes through a laugh but as soon as it is released, the light bubbles continue to grow and multiply. One after the other they burst into the air.. A smile is plastered on my face but that doesn't even begin to explain it. It is relief matched with hope. I am going to have a son. A little boy to call my own. He will be the only man I need in my life. My eyes shut in pleasant approval. The smile on my face settles in, perfect and natural. Relaxation washes over me as I watch my little boy moving around in my womb. He is mine.
"Thank you so much," I say breathlessly.
She nods her head, grabs a paper toilet and wipes off the blue goo. I pull my shirt down and sit up.
"I'll print some of those out for you, if you'd like."
"Yes, please!" I never realized I could get this excited.
She chuckles, pushes a button and two pictures push out of the side. She hands them to me gently. I hold them and my smile doesn't falter for a second.
"Well, we are done here." She grins.
She stands up, presses a few buttons on the machine then walks out. I stand up and begin to walk out with Tabitha.
"I can't believe I'm going to have a son."
"I can't either."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE LAND BRIDGE
They bumping of the taxi cab makes my heart flutter more. I hold the pictures in my hand. The glossy pigments show me my future. It isn't blank. It is filled with color and hope.
"He's a big boy." Tabitha looks over my shoulder. "Margaret was much smaller."
I laugh. My belly is going to be huge by the end of this if he really is a big baby.
"Are you going to call Noah?" Tabitha berates yet again. I sigh deeply. My son has been washing away any of my actual problems but now I realize that part of his existence is my biggest problem.
"I don't know." I want to but I want to protect him.
"Seriously, do it," she says. "This little boy needs his dad."
I wish it was that simple. I agree that he needs his dad but I also know that neither are well suited—and one might be dead before he is born. I shudder. I can't think about that. But I can push it off. I can make it ok. Right? Am I willing to run the risk of him seeing his son or him never seeing his child and still being harmed. Although I don't want to think of the obvious answer, it's so much easier to ignore my problems rather than face them head on. But no. Right now I need to. I feel a rush of confidence come over me. I need to.
"Ok," I sigh. "I will."
The taxi comes to a stop and I step out. My balance has gone to shit. I never thought I'd feel my drunk legs unless I had chugged liquor. Now I know that I can just by getting knocked up. I walk into the house. The warmth of the house proves just how cold it has become outside. I know that this will be a bitter winter. I just want the summer back. It was just here and now it is leaving, freezing all water in its tracks. The TV blares out of the great room. Mark plays with Margaret, a huge smile on his face. She carries around a wooden book that is almost as big as she. He sits on the floor, attempting to be at eye level with her even though she stands up straight.I grip my pictures. That is coming soon.
"How did it go?" He turns around and beams at Tabitha.
"Great!" I say enthused. I walk over and hand them to him.