I’ve known about the little one growing in my belly for two weeks now, and I’m convinced it’s actually making me sicker somehow. Nausea is the devil.
A soft hand pulls my hair back, saving my locks from the line of fire. I want to tell him to go, but my stomach twists again.
Neither of us says anything when straightening, nor when I brush my teeth, avoiding his gaze in the mirror. This is only ten weeks in.
He rubs my back soothingly. “Do you still feel sick?”
I shake my head, and we have no choice but to fall into our routine and move past the abrupt start to the morning. It looks as though we’re going to have many more of these. What I’m still not used to is the dizziness that is making it very hard to see straight. With every passing day, I feel a little more off, a little more different than the person I was before.
After a long hot shower to calm my nerves, I’m able to focus on the busy day ahead of me. Doris’s house, work, and then Jasmine’s house.
“You look beautiful.”
I glance up from the vanity, finding Benjamin easing on his watch, his gaze focused on me.
I smile, rolling my eyes. “I don’t, but thank you.”
My eyes are dark circles. The tan from Bali is long gone, leaving pale, pasty skin in its wake. And my lips are white, a result of my condition. I trace a nude lipstick onto them to hide the natural shade. “I’m seeing Doris today.”
“She’s no doubt heard by now,” he says, smirking.
“Yes, but not from me. I hope she’s not upset.”
“Why would she be upset?”
He kisses my cheek and picks up his jacket. I don’t tell him it’s because Kevin has probably informed her of the risks, which I divulged to him when Benjamin wasn’t around. She probably is aware that I have a doctor’s appointment in a few days, one that will enlighten me as to why I’m in a high-risk pregnancy. I spend the rest of the time Benjamin is in the room staring at him, gearing myself up for a confession I know I won’t allow myself to voice.
***
“You and Benjamin will be wonderful parents,” Doris says over a cup of coffee, regarding me with positivity. “He’s nervous; so are you. Arthur and I were up in arms when we found out we were pregnant. It will pass.”
“It’s a high-risk pregnancy.”
I’ve focused on pleasantries since I arrived, but it’s nearly time to go, and I need her advice. At my confession, she tilts her head.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know yet. My red blood cells are too low. The doctor ran tests, and I find out in a few days.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“She said many women have it, but usually not this severe. She said it’s dangerous, yes, for the baby and me, which is weird. I always thought anemia meant, like, pale eyelids and stuff. There’s a lot more to it, I guess.”
“What are the treatments?”
“Until we know more, there’s not much to do. I’m eating greens, iron-filled foods. I’m taking supplements. I got a transfusion.”
“Blood?” She blinks. “While pregnant?”
“Yes.”
She takes my hand. “I’m sure everything will be fine, Darcy. What did Benjamin say about this?”
“I haven’t told him.”
She closes her eyes. “That’s…not good. You need to tell him, immediately, Darcy. If this is a risky pregnancy, you need to give him heads up.”
“I fully plan to. He’s just…he’s just getting right with this. You know Benjamin. He’s going to freak out and then research the worst stuff and turn this into something bad. I don’t want that.”