The Clinic Chronicles: Part 6

Keeping The Bean

“It’s going to be okay.” The doctor said as she patted my hand. “Just keep on drinking the medicine and taking it easy, alright?”

I just nodded and thanked her as Mr. F helped me out the door. I wanted to escape so badly but needed to keep as much dignity I could muster.

Can you imagine how it’s like to swing from ecstasy to utter despair in the space of a few minutes? I could be schizoid for all I know, but given the circumstances, I would have a legitimate excuse. I now felt like a baseball bat walloped the back of my head, my throat was too tight, and my heart was too big for my chest.

It amazed me how these doctors could take on that kind of responsibility. They literally have their patients’ lives in their hands. They could make or break a person with a few words.

How do they handle it, facing mortality every day?

I think Mr. F and I just went on home afterwards. It was exhausting: exhilaration and the dregs in one unbeatable combination. We just ate something to dull the headachy feeling and talked.

We knew we wanted to keep the Beanie Baby, as the sprout was now called. I’ve stopped smoking (cold turkey since the day before), stopped drinking (last drop of alcohol was the week before), and we agreed that I’d have to stop the helter-skelter pace of my work life.

Curled up on our comforter, we cover random stuff, basically musing about how we would be parents. I wondered which of us would be the disciplinarian and the devil’s advocate. Of course, Mr. F claims to be the spoiler.

“You would be the Supreme Court. I’ll be the Court of Appeals!”

I scoffed at Mr. F. Right. Like that’s going to happen.

Nevertheless, we still felt depressed about the news the doctor gave us.

The Clinic Chronicles: Part 5

The Delicate Balance

I was giddy seeing the bean for the very first time.

I forgot about everything else: the thing stuck in my insides, my nerves, my fears. All I could think of was, “That’s our baby! We have a baby!” I was still in shock, but I was now happy shocked.

“Is everything alright with our baby?” We asked excitedly.

“Well, let’s have the doctor interpret these images for you, okay?” the nurse said.

Blissed out, we were content.

Back in the good doctor’s little office we went to wait while she signed for the ultrasound images.

“Well, congratulations! You’re going to be parents in roughly 8 months!” she grins.

”You’re four weeks along and the baby seems to be holding on.”

We beam at each other. We beam at her and back at each other again.

“However…”

However?

There’s a however!?

“We need to put you on this medicine. Do you see this dark area here…and here? There shouldn’t be any. It means the little place where your baby is living in is not fully attached to your womb.”

And that meant?

“We need to help the baby attach more firmly or we could lose it.”

Whoa.

I couldn’t breathe. I think I crushed Mr. F’s hand but he wasn’t saying anything. I didn’t want to look at him at all.

“It isn’t your fault or anything. This can be brought on by the holiday stress, your travelling, work…there’s a lot of factors involved so we really don’t know what caused this. It just means we have to take it easy and be careful from here on.”

She began writing a prescription but I was barely listening.

I thought it wasn’t going to mean much. I honestly thought I was afraid to have the little bean. Now that I’ve seen that it was growing in me, I felt more afraid of losing that little pulse beating in my belly.

“So don’t drink, don’t smoke, watch what you eat, sleep early and lay off the stress. We’ll keep you on this for two weeks then you come back to me and we’ll see. Okay?”

Mr. F answered for us both. “We’ll see you in two weeks, Doc.”