Page 43 of His Bittersweet Regret

Dr. Burns shook his head. “I want you to take your time getting up when seated or lying down,” he chuckled at the suggestion. “I know, you already have to, but take it a little slower if necessary. Don’t stand or sit for long periods without breaks. You also need to drink plenty of water too. Hydration is always important. Don’t wear constricting clothing, take hot baths or showers, and make sure you’re eating small meals all day long, not just a couple of big meals.” He thought for a minute. “And you really shouldn’t be taking baths at all, just showers, if you can help it.”

He glanced at Marsh and then back to me. “Do you have someone who can be around more for the next couple of weeks? I’d hate for your blood pressure to dip with no one around. The obvious concern is a dizzy spell that causes you to faint or fall. Pregnant women are already off balance enough. It’s easy for accidents to happen.”

“I’ll see if my friend can stay with me when she’s not working.”

“Good. Now, let’s take a listen, shall we?”

Dr. Burns moved my gown up and thankfully made sure that the little sheet across my lap was high enough that no one was flashed my goods just yet. The minute my belly came into view, Marsh gasped so loudly that the doctor and I both looked at him.

There were tears in his eyes. At first, I didn’t understand why, and then it dawned on me. It was the first time he saw my pregnant belly, and not just the way it looked under a shirt. I supposed there was a difference when he was used to seeing my petite pre-pregnancy body.

I moved to cover my belly, self-conscious of the other changes, like the wicked red and purplish stretch marks that branched out from down near my groin up to my belly button. Dr. Burns clucked his tongue at me and moved my hands away.

“I’m not letting you get away with doing that in this office. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” he chastised, but I think that his warning was meant for Marsh as much as it was for me.

“No, there’s not,” Marsh agreed. “I just hadn’t seen her belly before and it took me by surprise.”

“Well, women’s bodies tend to change a lot during pregnancy, and if you haven’t been there, stands to reason it might be a shock to see it for the first time.” Dr. Burns sent a wink my way, to let me know he had my back. It was appreciated, but wholly unnecessary. We all knew that Marsh had been absent this whole pregnancy. There really wasn’t a reason to rehash it.

The familiar whooshing sound of my son’s heartbeat came over the speakers after Dr. Burns ran the wand across my belly. “What is that?” Marsh asked.

“That is the little guy’s heartbeat.”

“That’s my son’s heart?” Marsh asked, with no small amount of wonder in his voice. For a minute, I let go of all the hurt and anger and just basked in that feeling. The one that should have accompanied me to every single appointment after that first one. The awe that he had for the son we’d made together, forced me to remember all the good things about Marsh. That realization came with its own burden of painful emotion.

Had he remained the same man, the one standing beside me, in awe of his son, then maybe things would have been so different for us. Happier. Like they used to be, or at least, like I thought they used to be. Obviously, Marsh hadn’t been as happy as I had been with our relationship. That was the part that was so hard to swallow. I wondered again what I had done, or not done, to make him unhappy enough with our relationship that he just up and called it quits after seven years.

We didn’t even fight that much. I turned away from the man and stared at the wall until Dr. Burns removed the wand from my belly.

“Okay, Opal, onto the part you hate.” He pulled the gown back down over my belly and pulled the sheet up higher on my knees as he helped me place my feet in the stirrups. “I just need to check to see if there’s any change in your cervix.”

I nodded and bit down on my lip, completely uncomfortable with having an audience for this part. Feeling another man’s fingers inside me, even for something as practical as checking for dilation, was unnerving as the only other man in my life that had them there stood by my side with a scowl on his face, watching.

“Hmm,” Dr. Burns glanced up at me as he uncomfortably dug around.

“That doesn’t sound like a good noise, Doc,” I suggested.

“Well, Opal, how do you feel about going into labor a bit earlier than we predicted?”

“Terrible and overjoyed?” I spouted out my answer even though it sounded more like a question. Dr. Burns chuckled.

“That probably sums it up nicely. You are one of my most honest patients. It makes my job far easier. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re already dilated to three centimeters.”

“What exactly does that mean?” I asked, with more than a little worry in my voice.

“It means that you need to stay off your feet as much as possible over the next couple weeks, if you last that long, otherwise you’re going to go into labor sooner, rather than later.”

“I’m not ready,” I blurted. “There’s still a week left of work before I’m out for the summer, and…”

Dr. Burns stopped me there. “Just breathe. I’m not saying it’s for sure going to happen early. Some women dilate like this and carry to term or beyond. Others go within hours or days.”

“Hours? No. Nope. That can’t happen. I still have almost four weeks to go!”

“The baby is going to come when he’s ready, but we are well within a healthy time frame. You’re only a few days shy of thirty-seven weeks.”

I focused on being able to breathe as he spoke. “Remember when I asked earlier if you had someone who could stay with you because of the low blood pressure?” I nodded. “Well, this is an added reason to make sure that happens.”

I glanced over at Marsh, who hadn’t said a word during any of this. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re covered, no matter what,” he promised. If only I could believe in him. There was no way my blood pressure wasn’t up at that point because I was honestly scared. What if I was at the apartment alone and went into labor? I didn’t have a car, not that I’d be able to drive myself anyway.

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