Page 9 of Sutton and the CEO Forever

For once, I didn’t argue.

4

Sutton

Dr. Young gave me a sympathetic look. “Sutton, I am afraid that you’re developing edema, which is common in pregnancy. But with the additional stress you just told me about, I want to do a quick ultrasound to check things out.”

I swallowed my heart. “Is edema bad?”

Dr. Young smiled, and I was reminded once again that he resembled a child. “Edema is swelling.”

Mark squeezed my hand to reassure me everything would be okay. I couldn’t help but worry. Every horror story I had ever been told had started with the mother not feeling well and the doctor going in for an ultrasound.

Suddenly the thought of something happening to the girls gripped me, and I started to shake.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Mark wrapped an arm around me, and I melted into his arms. I couldn’t tell him that I was worried something had happened to the girls. I was freaking out, wondering if the movement I had felt was just gas.

They didn’t seem as active as they had in the past. And the statistics weren’t great. People lost babies all the time, especially with twins.

I started to cry, and that was when Dr. Young’s nurse came back inside.

“Are you doing okay, hun?”

No, I was not fucking okay. I was melting down and quite possibly going to give myself a brain aneurysm from overthinking everything.

“Has she been overly emotional?” The cute nurse asked Mark.

He eyed me warily as if wondering if he would land himself on the couch for a week by answering the question honestly.

Opting for the truth, he nodded. “Yes.”

She made a sympathetic sound and walked over to me. “There are all kinds of crazy hormones in our bodies anyway. But when you are pregnant, your body produces a lot more. Considering you’re carrying twins, I’m sure your hormones are off the charts.”

“What am I supposed to do?” My voice cracked.

She patted my arm. “If it gets severe enough that you feel you can’t function or you have thoughts of harming yourself, we can give you something. Many women also find that after they deliver, there’s a huge fluctuation that causes postpartum depression. I had it with my boys, and my sister did as well. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I thought I was the worst mother in the world because I hated my baby. Once I got straightened out, things were a million times better.”

There was a short knock on the door, and Dr. Young entered with the ultrasound machine. He saw my tear-streaked face and paused for a moment. “Is everything alright in here?”

I felt stupid saying my hormones were making me cray-cray. Thankfully the nurse spoke up for me.

“Not a thing, we were just talking about some of the pleasures of pregnancy.”

I gave her a grateful glance.

Dr. Young nodded. “Of course. You give us a call if you have any trouble or any questions, do you hear?”

With embarrassment, I nodded. “I am sorry,” I said, turning to the nurse, “I have forgotten your name.”

The nurse took it in stride. “No problem at all, my name is Stephanie. It’s lovely to meet you, Sutton.”

She shook hands with Mark and me before going over to prep for the ultrasound. In moments the wand was gliding across my belly, and two distinct hearts were beating.

I couldn’t contain the tears; Mark’s eyes were red, too.

“They look really good,” Dr. Young said after a while. “The placenta is in the right place, and their heart rates are normal. It’s obviously getting a little tight in there. But we have your scheduled date, if they don’t come before. Have you had any contractions?”

At my hesitation, Mark nearly busted a gasket.

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