Page 31 of Pregnant in Plaid
"Quack. Quack."
I look over to find Trace holdingwhat is unmistakably a speculum, opening and closing it like a duck's bill. He's completely absorbed in making it quack, turning it this way and that to examine the mechanism.
"Trace."
"Quack quack."
"Trace."
He looks up, grinning like a kid who just discovered a new toy. "This is actually pretty cool. What is it?"
"Put it down."
"But what's it for?"
"It goes inside me."
His face does something remarkable—a journey from curiosity to comprehension to absolute horror in less than two seconds. The speculum drops from his hand like it's suddenly radioactive. He stares at it on the counter, then at me, then back at the speculum.
"That—" He swallows hard. "That goes?—"
"Yep."
"But it's—it's metal and—" He's actually gone pale. "Does it hurt?"
"It's not exactly comfortable."
"Holy shit." He stares at it like the speculum might attack him. "And they just leave those lying around? Just sitting there?"
"They sterilize them, Trace."
"I don't care if they baptize them in holy water, that thing is terrifying." He's still staring at it with the same expression someone might reserve for a medievaltorture device. Which, to be fair, isn't entirely inaccurate. "You have to—women have to?—"
"Welcome to gynecology. Still want to come to appointments?"
"Yes," he says immediately, though he doesn't look away from the speculum. "But I'm going to need therapy."
Dr. Martinez sweeps in moments later—a woman in her late forties with kind eyes and the sort of no-nonsense energy that immediately puts me at ease. She's wearing scrubs covered in tiny cartoon storks, which should be ridiculous but somehow works.
"Patrice! Wonderful to meet you." She shakes my hand, then turns to Trace. "And Trace. Linda mentioned you were here. Good to see you."
"Dr. Martinez." He stands, shaking her hand with a respect that makes me wonder what their history is.
"Sit, sit." She waves him back down and pulls up a rolling stool. "Now, let's see. Seven months along, first appointment with me, previously seeing—" She consults her tablet. "Dr. Williams in Florida. Good doctor. I went to school with her, actually."
Of course, everyone in the medical community is connected too.
"So," Dr. Martinez says, focusing on me. "How are you feeling? Any concerns?"
"I'm fine. Tired. The usual."
"Swelling? Headaches? Visual disturbances?"
"Some swelling in my feet. Nothing major."
She makes notes, asking more questions—about my diet, my energy levels, whether I'm taking prenatal vitamins, if I'm experiencing any pain. Trace listens intently, like he's studying for an exam.
"And have you thought about a birthing plan?" Dr. Martinez asks. "Labor preferences, pain management, who you want in the room?"
