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Perfect Fit by Juliana Conners (92)


 

Two Months After Madilyn & Asher’s Wedding

 

The gel is cold on my stomach, and I jump. But I know that my nervous energy is caused as much by my fear of today’s appointment as it is from the temperature of the gel.

After an amazing honeymoon and two months of wedded bliss, Asher and I are in this sterile, dim doctor’s office where my first prenatal appointment is being held. It should be a time of continued happiness, and it is. But for me, at least—even though Asher always tells me not to worry so much— it’s also mixed with trepidation.

“I’m sorry,” the technician says, reacting to my jump. “I know this isn’t pleasant, but it’s all for a good cause.”

I smile at her even though I don’t feel like it. She looks just as scared as I feel, and she’s obviously pretty new at this. I know it’s not her fault I’m such a nervous wreck.

I squeeze Asher’s hand, glad he could take off work and come with me to my first ultrasound appointment. Things at work have been really busy but he always makes time for what matters, when it comes to us. He squeezes back, strongly and firmly, which I appreciate because I can’t help but feel scared.

After a year of trying to get pregnant and being told that maybe we couldn’t, we are here at the doctor’s office to confirm that the pregnancy is actually sticking. Asher tells me not to use that word— “sticking,” because it sounds impersonal and scary— but all the pregnancy forums I visit online are full of moms wishing each other “sticky baby dust,” or basically, healthy pregnancies.

I know I should stay off the Internet for my own mental health but I seem to have an obsession with finding out everything I can about babies and pregnancies. And mostly, the biggest thing I find out is that there are a lot of things that can go wrong.

So what makes me think that everything will keep going right for Asher and me? I can’t help but think my circumstances thus far are all too good to be true. How could I end up marrying the love of my life and having his baby? It seems impossible that two people could be so blessed.

And, thanks to those pregnancy boards I frequent online as well as Dr. Google, I also know that there are a lot of things that can go wrong in early pregnancy.

We haven’t even told many people besides very close friends and family members about our pregnancy because I’m not in my second trimester yet. It’s just around the corner, and we’ve decided to announce the pregnancy if this ultrasound shows that everything is okay.

That’s a lot of pressure. I can’t help but worry even though I do sense that things are okay.

Ever since Asher’s and my wedding day I’ve had a lot of morning sickness, for example. My breasts seem as if they’ve already doubled in size— much to Asher’s delight, even though he says they were great to begin with— and my nipples are so damn sore.

But I’ve had some headaches and slight spotting, which is why I called to make this appointment a little earlier than my doctor usually does them, which is after the second trimester. I’m glad I could get in for an appointment now because wondering what’s going on in there and not being able to find out has been driving me crazy.

In general I think things are fine and my doctor said that spotting can be a normal part of pregnancy, but I’ve never been pregnant and the Internet gives me a lot to worry about. For these reasons I haven’t let myself get my hopes up about this ultrasound. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch— nor have I ever thought of that metaphor in a more appropriate context.

“You said you’ve been having some spotting?” the technician asks.

“Yes,” I answer, becoming even more nervous.

She’s looking at a small screen that is turned towards her, which neither Asher nor I can see. She’s frowning, which I don’t think can be a good sign.

“And have you had any cramping?” she asks.

“Not really.”

My stomach churns. Why is she asking me about cramping? I wonder.

“I mean, early on, but I read that could be because of implantation,” I explain.

She nods.

“It could be,” she says hesitantly.

Or maybe I’m just reading into the things she’s saying, or how she’s saying them. Worries about pregnancy make me feel so crazy that I start to doubt my sanity.

I look at Asher and he squeezes my hand again, but his face has gone slightly pale. I can tell he’s acting braver than he feels. I realize that I’m not the only one who’s worried.

“I’m going to go see if there’s a doctor available,” the technician says. “I’ll be right back.”

As she stands up to leave the room, I can’t help but break into tears. I feel like such an idiot, but I’m also so worried that I can’t seem to stop myself.

“Please… don’t just leave,” I beg her. “Tell me what’s going on?”

I bring my hand to my stomach and pat the baby I’ve been carrying in there, to reassure him or her— as well as myself— that everything will be fine.

Won’t it?

“I’m not a trained doctor,” the technician says, with a slight frown on her face. “In fact, while I’m a trained ultrasound tech, I’m a pretty new one. I apologize. I just started here. So I really can’t give my opinion. That’s why I need to get a doctor in here.”

“Tell us if you think it’s good news or bad,” Asher demands, and I want to hug him.

I’m so glad for his strong, domineering presence when I feel as if I myself am about to break down. He is exactly what I need— just as he always is.

“I… I think things are fine,” the technician finally says, but wrinkles crinkle across her forehead and she scrunches up her eyebrows in a betraying sign of doubt. “I don’t think there’s any cause for alarm but I just want to go get a doctor.”

She nods and then hurries out before we can say anything else.

“Well isn’t that just our luck,” Asher says, shaking his head. “We get this newbie tech who doesn’t know anything. Great.”

“I’m really worried,” I tell him, sobbing softly now, free to let out my emotions since it’s only him and me in the room.

“Don’t be worried,” he says, his head smoothing out my hair. “It’s fine. She said she doesn’t think there’s any cause for alarm.”

“She didn’t seem so sure of what she was saying,” I wail. “And she admitted she’s brand new, so how does she even know?”

I can’t help but let all my worries come crashing down, nearly ruining what was supposed to be one of the best days of our lives, before I even know if anything’s wrong. But all I want is for this to work out and I’m so anxious when I think of what will happen if it doesn’t.

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