Page 13 of Can We Try?

Not just because I took five of them, but because I’ve been nauseous for a couple of weeks now. My boobs hurt, and I’m late. As in two months late. Last month I chalked it up to working so many hours. The emergency room was short-staffed, and I picked up a lot of extra shifts. My schedule was all wonky, and I thought that was the reason.

I was in denial.

This month, specifically four days ago, when I didn’t start my period, I knew. I drove straight to the pharmacy after work and bought a basketful of tests. Okay, just ten, but I’ve managed to only use five of them. All five were positive at different times of the day. All five were different brands.

That brings me to now. I’m sitting in the waiting room of my gynecologist's office for her to tell me what I already know.

I’m pregnant.

“Maggie,” the nurse calls.

Pulling in a deep breath, I stand on shaky legs and follow her through the door to the back of the office. We stop at the scale, and I place my purse on the chair and step on. I don’t look at the number. It doesn’t matter. My hand lands on my flat belly. With those two pink lines, everything in my life has changed. Being here is really just a formality.

“Great, you’re going to be in exam room three,” she tells me. I follow her into the room and take a seat on the exam table. “So you’re here for a possible pregnancy?” she asks. “You have at home positive tests, correct?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do you know the date of your last menstrual cycle?” I rattle off the date and the answer to the rest of her questions. “Perfect. Now, we’ll need a urine sample, but we’ll also draw blood as well. Do you think you can give us a sample now?”

“I can.”

“Perfect. Just leave the cup in the little silver door behind the toilet. The restroom is directly across the hall.” She opens the door, and points as if I can’t figure it out on my own.

Honestly, it probably appears that way. I need to shake out of this funk. This wasn’t how I planned to start a family, but this is how it’s happening, and I can’t change that. Well, I guess I could, but I won’t. I’ve known for a few days, and already, this baby is a part of me, a part of my heart.

Quickly, I give my urine sample and settle myself back in the exam room, where I strip down and put on the gown provided before taking a seat on the examination table. I fist my hands in my lap as I let my mind wander over everything I’m going to need to do to prepare for this baby.

I also have to talk to Lachlan. Before I can let my mind go there and how that conversation might play out, something that I’ve thought about a lot the past few days, there’s a knock at the door, and Dr. Holmes steps into the room.

“Maggie, good to see you.” She goes to the sink and washes her hands before turning to face me. “I hear congratulations might be in order.” She smiles kindly, and something about that smile eases some of my anxiety.

“Yes.”

“Okay, tell me a little about what’s been going on outside of the positive home tests.”

I ramble on about my symptoms. “And I took five at home tests,” I confess.

Dr. Holmes chuckles. “You are not the only one. I even took several with both of my kids. It’s like you need to just really be sure.”

“Exactly.”

She instructs me to lie back, and she quickly and efficiently does her exam. She’s stripping off her gloves when there’s a knock at the door. She glances to make sure I’m again covered and sitting up before she answers. “Results,” the nurse whispers.

“Thank you.” Dr. Holmes shuts the door and turns to me and smiles. “Your exam and your urine results are both positive. Congratulations.”

It’s official.

I’m pregnant.

“Thank you.” My voice is soft as I let this sink in. I already knew, but this moment makes it even more real.

Dr. Holmes starts to discuss the next steps, vitamins, and my next appointment. I’m only half listening because I’m going to be a mom.

Me. A mom.

The remainder of the appointment goes by in a blur, and I find myself sitting in my car, staring at the dash while the air conditioning blows full blast. It’s a little after five. I was the last appointment of the day, and I know where my next stop needs to be. It’s only right to tell the baby’s father before I tell anyone else, but I’m dreading this conversation.

Digging my phone out of my purse, I shoot Lachlan a message.

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