Page 37 of Coach Sully
I set the cup in the pass-through door between the restroom and lab. After finishing and washing my hands, I return to the clinic room with butter-yellow walls and wait for the doctor. I lie on the table, taking advantage of my opportunity to rest. Not that I’ve been doing any strenuous activities, but the fluorescent lights above are too bright and my eyes feel heavy. It feels good to close them. This is nice…
I wake up to the doctor knocking.
“Yup!” I call, my voice sleepy. I sit up and pretend like I wasn’t napping two seconds ago. That’s gotta be a record for time it takes to fall asleep. How long was I asleep for?
She looks serious as she takes a seat. Fuck, it’s cancer, isn’t it? She doesn’t turn on the computer, just sits in the chair directly across from me and waits.
“Hi Kendra. It’s good to see you. I hear you’ve been experiencing some fatigue and nausea?”
“Experiencingis one way to put it.” It’s been very hands-on. An up-close-and-personal interaction.
Her expression is blank, and I can’t get a read on her. It’s causing my anxiety to spiral. “We ran your labs. Kendra, you’re pregnant.”
I laugh. “That’s impossible. I had my tubes tied. It’s in my chart. Just a few years ago.”
She nods. “I know.”
My face sobers. “So, test it again.”
“We tested it twice.”
I shake my head. No, no, no, no. “I have my tubes tied.” I sound like a broken record, but I can’t get pregnant. Why do they keep saying I’m pregnant?
“Tubal ligation is ninety-eight percent effective. It’s a rare occurrence, but it happens. In general, it’s an effective form of permanent birth control, however, the younger you are atthe time of the surgery, the higher the likelihood of it being unsuccessful.”
This isn’t real. She’s lying. I can’t be pregnant. I made sure I could never get pregnant. I paid a lot of money to make sure I could never get pregnant.
“How come nobody told me there was a chance this could fail? This can’t be happening!” I’m mad. She nods, letting me get my frustration out. My breaths come harder and faster.
“Take a slow breath, Kendra.”
I nod, forming an O with my mouth, and try to take a deep breath. My hands wrinkle the paper underneath me.
“Can you estimate what the conception date was?”
Then everything comes full circle, and it slams into me. Tears spring from my eyes. I’m not just pregnant…I’m pregnant with Sully’s baby.
Oh my God.
The doctor must see it on my face, so she quickly grabs a blue plastic emesis bag, and I heave up all the crackers and water from earlier. She calls a nurse outside the door to have them bring me a glass of water.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“No need to apologize. I understand this was not part of your plan… There are still options if you want to consider termination. Can you estimate—”
“Late June. The conception. Or maybe July. Shit, that means I’m, like,pregnant-pregnant.”
The doctor nods, and a nurse arrives with a cup of water.
“Would you like some pamphlets on your options?”
I swish some of the water in my mouth and spit it into the emesis bag. My doctor hands me a tissue, and I wipe my mouth. She gives me a moment to pull my thoughts together.
“Um… yes, please. But I don’t know yet. What do I do if I keep it?”
“We’ll need to get an ultrasound appointment set up so we can get an idea of how far along you are and make sure the baby is growing safely. As far as the nausea and exhaustion, that’s very common during the first trimester and can go into the second trimester.”
Second trimester.Second trimester, good God.