Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
The doctor shakes Sarah’s hand and smiles at me. “Are you ready to see your baby, Kat?”
“Heck yeah. How about you Auntie Sarah? You ready to see your niece or nephew?”
Sarah squeals and claps.
After spreading some gel on my stomach, the doctor runs the wand of the sonogram machine over my stomach, and a swirling image of what might as well be outer space comes up onscreen.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing.
“One moment,” the doctor says, maneuvering. “Okay. This is your uterus, Kat. And right there? That’s your baby.”
“Wow,” Sarah says, putting her hand to her mouth.
“That’s my baby?” I ask.
“Yep. He or she is just about the size of a grape.”
I look at Sarah. “My baby’s a grape.”
“Grape Ape,” Sarah says.
I bite my lip, too overwhelmed to speak further.
“And do you see that bit of flickering right there?” the doctor continues. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat. Oh, it’s nice and strong—exactly what we like to see.”
Sarah makes a sound of wonderment. “Hey, we should take a video of this for Josh.”
“Oh, good idea,” I say. “My phone’s in my purse.”
Sarah pulls out my phone and aims it at the screen. “Okay, action. Doctor, will you explain what’s onscreen for the baby’s father?”
“Of course.” The doctor motions to the screen and explains everything, and when she’s done, Sarah pans the camera to me.
“Hi, Josh,” I say, waving. “Well, it looks like our accidental Faraday is a stubborn little thing—surprise, surprise! I guess he or she’s decided they’re not going anywhere, after all.” I try to smile but tears unexpectedly prick my eyes. Goddammit. Josh must hate me. I’m the one who missed my pill, after all, not him. He trusted me to protect him from the one thing that freaked him out the most and I let him down. I wipe my eyes. “I’m really sorry, Josh,” I squeak out.
Sarah turns off the video recorder. “I’m gonna edit that last part out. You have nothing to apologize for, Kat. It takes two to tango.”
“No. Leave it in. I forgot to take my pill—and now I’ve totally ruined his life. I owe him an apology.”
“You haven’t ruined his life,” the doctor interjects, her tone firm. “You’ve blessed it immeasurably. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Tears fill my eyes at these unexpectedly kind words from the doctor. “Thank you,” I say softly.
Sarah squeezes my hand. “Listen to the doctor. She went to medical school and everything.”
Doctor Gupta smiles warmly. “Kat, I’ve seen many women in your shoes. If you had a crystal ball and could see yourself a year from now, I think you’d be surprised in a good way.”
I manage a smile. “Thank you.”
The doctor turns back to the machine. “Now. Based on what I’m seeing here, you’re about nine weeks along, which makes your due date... December second, give or take two weeks on either side.”
“Oh,” I say, my mood instantly getting a lift. “December second is Sagittarius,” I say.
“Is that good?” Sarah asks.
I nod. “Same as Henny.”
“Oh, that is good.”
“It’s a fire sign. A Sag is adventurous, creative, and passionate. Loves to travel. Makes friends easily. Funny as hell. But also can be bossy and impulsive as hell—especially a female Sagittarius. A female Sag can be hell on wheels.”
Sarah raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like the grape isn’t gonna fall far from the vine.” She addresses the doctor. “Can you tell if the grape is a boy or girl?”
“Not yet. We’ll probably be able to determine gender at around twenty weeks.”
“Okay, I’m calling it right now,” Sarah says, putting up her hand. “You’re having a girl.”
“You think?”
“I know. And do you know how I know? Because I believe in God—and if there’s one person in this world who karmically deserves to wind up with a hell-on-wheels daughter, it’s you, Kat.”
“Hey, did you just insult me?” I ask.
Sarah laughs. “Not at all.”
The doctor takes the sonogram wand off my belly and cleans up the gel on my skin. “Do you have any questions, Kat?”
“A couple.” I take a deep breath, gathering my nerve. “Before I found out I was pregnant, I drank some booze—quite a bit, actually. I was in Las Vegas. When will I know if I gave the baby alcohol-fetus-whatever-whatever?”
“Fetal alcohol syndrome?”
“Yeah, that.”
“There’s no way to know for sure until later, but the odds are low. In the vast majority of unplanned pregnancies, the mother has consumed alcohol and there’s absolutely no ill effect. We’ll keep an eye on things, and if there’s any sign of a problem, we’ll do more testing later.”
“Okay,” I say, exhaling.
“At this point, I’d put it out of your mind and not worry at all—although, of course, I want you to abstain from alcohol for the remainder of your pregnancy.”
“And is it the same answer if I smoked pot once, too?”
Sarah looks surprised.
“Well,” the doctor says, doing a much better job of keeping a poker face than Bugs Bunny to my left. “There are no guarantees, yet again, but the chances of a problem are still low. We’ll know more at the twenty-week sonogram. Of course, you should swear off all controlled substances for the remainder of your pregnancy.”