Page 40 of Entirely Yours
Thankfully, the women in the room ignore me and shake hands. “Hi, Thea! I’m guessing Elaine didn’t give you her oral sex lecture based on that reaction,” Dr. Mitchell jokes. Instead of answering, Thea looks at me, wide-eyed.
“I’ll explain later,” I mutter.
Dr. Mitchell claps her hands together. “Well, let’s get into it! We’ll do a sonogram first, just to confirm everything looks good. I saw on your intake paperwork that this isn’t your first pregnancy. Want to tell me a bit about your first pregnancy and birth?”
Thea sighs. “I was very young, and it was a pretty uncomplicated but stressful pregnancy. I ended up going into labor at thirty-four weeks.” My head snaps up at that because this is the first time I’m hearing this. I know Thea said Chloe was early, but I thought that meant maybe a week or two, at most. “My previous doctor thinks it was due to stress. Chloe was five pounds two ounces when she was born and spent seven days in the NICU.”
“How is she now?” Dr. Mitchell asks.
A small smile graces Thea’s lips. “Perfect.”
Dr. Mitchell places a comforting hand on Thea’s shoulder. “I’m so glad to hear that. Let’s take a look at this new baby, shall we?”
She gets the sonogram machine ready, maneuvering us so that I’m up near Thea’s head and we can both see the monitor. “I usually have the sonographer do this, but as soon as I heard it was a Bardot baby, I knew I wanted to be the one to do it. A little pressure,” she says to Thea.
“I can leave if this is too intimate,” I whisper to Thea.
“I’m fine. Look.”
Tearing my eyes away from Thea, I look at the monitor and—“Oh my God.”
The blob on the screen looks nothing like a baby but after a few taps on Dr. Mitchell’s machine, we can hear the heartbeat. It’s the most magnificent sound I’ve ever heard. Looking back at Thea, her smile is shaky but present. I feel an immense relief knowing she’s not disappointed in the confirmation we’re seeing on the screen.
Dr. Mitchell’s voice draws me back to the sonogram. “Baby looks good! Measuring eight weeks three days. We’ll do a blood draw and urine analysis before you leave, and I’ll see you in four weeks!”
“Wait, that’s it?” I ask. I want to keep watching the blob—my blob—on the screen.
Dr. Mitchell laughs, grabbing the printouts and passing themto Thea. “You can look at the pictures in the meantime. See you both soon. Thea, if you need anything between now and then, don’t hesitate to call the office!” And with that, she’s gone.
Thea sits up, handing me the photos. I run my fingers over the image, in complete awe that I helped make that.
“You didn’t tell me Chloe was born that early,” I say, looking up at Thea.
“You didn’t tell me your mom gives oral sex lectures,” she diverts.
I scrub my beard. “My family can be… a lot.”
Thea chuckles at that. “I’ve met your brothers.” She sighs. “I wasn’t trying to keep Chloe’s prematurity from you. I still have a lot to process about the entire situation. Lingering trauma, I guess. The doctor seemed pretty confident it wouldn’t happen again as long as I can keep my stress levels down.”
“I’ll help however I can with that,” I promise.
“I know you will.”
I bob my head, so much more to say, but I have no idea how to say it. After a moment, I start with, “Thank you again for letting me come today. That was… the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Just wait until it actually looks like a baby,” she replies. “Well, more like a little alien but it’s still pretty cool.”
I can’t wait, but I don’t tell her that. “I’ll step out while you get dressed,” I say instead.
When she comes out of the room, I have the undeniable urge to hug her. She’s so strong, and it’s hitting me even more now that I know how much she had to go through alone during her pregnancy and birth with Chloe. “Can I—I’d like to hug you, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, Jules. That’s okay.” I catch the smallest of smirks before she steps into my arms. I feel her take a deep breath and sink further into me.
“I support you, Chloe, and this baby no matter what, okay?” I ask. I feel her nod in response. “Let me support you, yeah?”This time there’s a moment’s hesitation, but finally she nods again—a huge weight lifting off my shoulders as she does.
Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I murmur a quiet, “Thank you.”
She takes one more deep breath before pulling back and subtly wiping at her eyes. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s go,” she sing-songs, a false cheeriness in her voice. A mask I’m beginning to recognize.
