God, she was being so unfair to him.
Willow shook her head. “Just a doctor and the ultrasound I’m waiting for. I don’t suppose you can magic one, can you?”
“I mean, I am a doctor, so I got you one,” Chaya said softly. “But I can’t just diagnose you with my magic x-ray eyes.”
“But you must have an idea. What do you think it is?”
Chaya shook her head. “I’m not getting into guessing games with you. You’ve only had a little mild spotting while in the hospital. Trust me, there are lots of things it can be before it’s the worst.”
The worst. That her baby had ...
“Stop imagining bad scenarios. Let the doctors run their tests.”
“They took the blood ages ago.” Her voice sounded pathetic. Whiny.
“It’s the ultrasound they need. I’ll go see how long the wait might take. That will tell us everything we need to know.”
Willow tried to relax. She knew how hospitals worked back home, but it truly was a marvel that so many people were being seen, for free. She’d watched them get checked in, person after person, without a single question about whether they could afford it.
Two hours later, with a prescription for some baby-approved pain medication that Willow intended to research before she took a dose, they had their answer.
“Your baby is fine,” the doctor said. “Heartbeat is strong. No evidence of any complications. It was most likely an ovarian cyst that burst, that’s where the spotting of blood comes from. There is evidence of you having had one. The pain can be quite severe. But within a few days you should be back to normal. Do you have any questions?”
“Do I need surgery to remove it?”
The doctor shook his head. “No. It’s burst now. The ultrasound shows there aren’t any other cysts and that this was small, relatively speaking. The worst pain is when it bursts. Now, we just need it to heal itself. You should be up and on your feet. You might feel a little discomfort for a day or two. Otherwise, you should be fine.”
Willow placed a hand over her face as she tried to bite back tears of relief. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I’ve given you a prescription for some painkillers if you feel you need them, but the worst should have passed by now. If your pain gets worse, or you get nausea or vomiting, excessive bloating, then come back. Chaya knows how to find us. And I believe all your travel insurance papers were in order. So, you are free to go when you’ve collected your thoughts. Okay?”
Unable to say anymore, Willow nodded. Her baby was okay. She was okay.
“Let’s get you up and home,” Chaya said, helping her as she sat up on the gurney. “Oh, babe, come here.”
Chaya pulled Willow into her arms for a hug, and, God, how badly did she need it. Someone to just hug her for no other reason than she needed it. She squeezed back. “Thanks for looking after me.”
Chaya stepped back and smiled. “Any time.”
“What’s the deal with the prescription?”
“Get Luke to fill it in the morning.”
“But won’t he need my insurance details?”
Chaya laughed. “It’ll cost less than a tenner to get it filled. NHS, remember? We just pay the dispensing fee, not for the meds. Everyone pays the same unless you are exempt and then, you get it for free.”
“That’s wild.”
“No. People going bankrupt for healthcare is wild. Here, you need an ambulance, you just call one.”
“What about IVF?”
“NHS. But there is a queue. And there are eligibility requirements based on age and things like that.”
“Epi pens?”
“Nine pounds twenty-five pence to get the prescription filled every eighteen months.”