Page 9 of First Comes Forever

“What?” Goodness gracious, she’s invasive. Although, perhaps that’s her job.

“You mentioned in the form that you work in social media and that you were averaging about six hours of screen time a day. Is that still the case?”

“I’m still a content creator and brand influencer…but I don’t think I said I was spending six hours a day on my phone.”

“Hm,” she murmurs into the phone. “I’m just going off of the form, Ms. Rhodes. I apologize if I misunderstood.”

“Oh, I’m not offended. I just don’t remember.”

She clears her throat. “Well, how about just a complimentary introductory session. We can leave insurance out of it for now, just chat, and see if counseling might still be beneficial for you. Some of the things you wrote down on the inquiry form were concerning… I’d really like to help—”

Knock, knock.I’m interrupted by my doctor at the door.

“Anne, I’m sorry, it’s not a great time. I’m at an appointment, and I assure you I’m fine. But I really appreciate you following up.”

“Okay, Amani,” she says just as politely as before, “this is my cell number if you ever need anything—”

“Bye,” I muffle into the speaker, then shove my phone into my purse while I shuffle sidewise and hoist myself back onto the exam table. “Sorry, work,” I lie to Doctor Michel. The last thing my fertility doctor needs to hear is that I’ve been online shopping for mental health counseling. I’m going to be a mom. Or maybe I’m already a mom.When does momhood technically start?Either way, it’s time to be stronger than the demons in my mind.

“We’ll try to get you out of here quickly so you can get back to your job,” he responds with a small smile.

He’s not wearing his white doctor’s coat for some reason. Just a salmon-colored, pin-striped dress shirt and a pair of black slacks. If it wasn’t for the stethoscope around his neck, I wouldn’t peg him as my doctor.

I shake my head fervently. “Oh, no, no rush. The nurse told me if I can wait, maybe the ultrasound tech can squeeze me in today?” I pat my stomach tenderly with a big smile on my face. “I really want to hear the heartbeat.”

I watch Dr. Michel’s thick, salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrow in concentration. “I have your lab results. That’s what took so long. I apologize. I had the lab test your urine, but just in case, I had them run a blood panel as well.”

Oh no. I don’t like that look on his face.“Is everything okay?”

My heart sinks even further at his pitiful smile. He crosses his arms as he leans back against the sink counter. “There’s no need for you to wait for an ultrasound today. I’m so sorry. Ms. Rhodes… You’re not pregnant.”

I blink, letting the silence claim the room before I finally croak out, “I lost it?”

“No.” Dr. Michel gently shakes his head. “If it was a miscarriage, or even what we’d classify as a chemical pregnancy, there’d still be the faintest trace of HCG in your blood. But your labs don’t indicate anything of the sort. I think perhaps the home pregnancy test you used was faulty. Do you remember the brand?”

“What?”

“The brand?” he asks again.

It’s hard to make sense of his question. The thudding of my heart sounds like a drum in my head. A rhythmic pounding beat in my brain, drowning out his drums. How can he possibly be telling me there is no baby? I wasjusttalking to my little peanut.

“The digital blue one with the rain over the mountains…I don’t know—wait, I’m sorry, I…what?” I rub my eyes with the heel of my palms, disregarding my mascara and eyeshadow. “What do you mean I’m not pregnant? I haven’t had my period. I’ve been nauseous for weeks now. At the seven-week mark, isn’t that a telltale sign of—”

“Ms. Rhodes.” Dr. Michel takes a seat on his rolling stool and scoots to the side of the exam table.

The way his eyes are pooling in pity is making my skin prickle. Is this a mix-up or some cruel joke? I came to this appointment today thinking I was a mother. I’m leaving with the harsh reality, the one all the statistics have been telling me all along…

This isn’t possible.

This isn’t going to happen for me.

“Well, I, uh…” I subtly sink my top canine tooth into my bottom lip. I bite until it hurts to hold in the tears. Only once I’m composed, I continue, “I guess I’m sorry for wasting your time. I took the test, and I didn’t think to take another. It said ‘pregnant’ clear as day. I didn’t even question it.”

Why would I doubt it? I’ve been trying to get pregnant. It finally happened. I cried…

Out of literal joy.

“You most certainly didn’t waste my time. This happens more often than you think. Quality control for home pregnancy tests is becoming a little frustrating. On top of that, you are on a lot of hormone-heavy medication. The nausea was well-timed and that in itself could’ve been misleading. I’m very sorry.”

---