Page 94 of Desert Loyalties
She checks her chart. “Well, based on the urine sample you gave the nurse, your HCG levels are elevated. That’s a pregnancy hormone. Now, with an IUD, it’s uncommon, but not impossible. Let’s take a look.”
She pulls out the ultrasound wand, pouring cold gel, condom rolled over, all routine and I settle into the stirrups, eyes on the ceiling while she gets to work.
Then she turns the screen toward me. “Do you see this?” she says, pointing to a little black dot pulsing faintly. “That’s your baby.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
“You’re pregnant,” she says gently. “Based on size, I’d say around five weeks.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out for a second. “But I have an IUD.”
She nods. “IUDs make it harder for sperm to fertilize the egg. But not impossible. It happens, rarely.”
I stare at the monitor. At that tiny shape. A heartbeat.
My heartbeat feels like it’s in my ears.
“We’ll need to remove the IUD,” she adds. “It’s dangerous to leave it in, but thankfully, it’s not close to the gestational sac. I can remove it safely.”
I nod, stunned. She moves efficiently, focused and careful, but I’m not really there. I'm somewhere between the blue light of the monitor and the cold press of reality.
I lie back in the stirrups, still staring up, trying to figure what this means.
The nurse gives me a printout of a fuzzy little ultrasound photo and instructions to watch for cramping or bleeding. The mammogram gets cancelled. Of course it does. Guess what? I’m pregnant.
Holy shit. I’m pregnant.
This wasn’t the plan.
I don’t go back to the clubhouse. I go home instead. I need time. Space. I need to breathe without someone watching me.
Drake didn’t know about the appointment. I was going to surprise him. Instead, I’m in a fog, stripping the bed, changing the sheets anyway, because it’s all I can control. I shower, throw on a t-shirt, tell myself I’ll sit down for just a second.
I wake up to my name being shouted.
“Skye!”
Drake’s voice, getting closer. Sharp. Scared.
I blink myself upright as he bursts into the room, out of breath, panic in his eyes.
“Hey,” I manage, voice still scratchy with sleep.
“Hey, hey, do you have any idea what I thought happened when you didn’t answer your phone?” he snaps, looking wrecked. “No one knew where you were—”
I glance at my jeans on the floor. The phone’s in the pocket. Still on silent.
Shit.
Before I can say anything, I just… break. Tears fall. Big, fat, stupid ones that burn on the way down. I’m crying before I even realize it.
Drake's face softens instantly. “Shit. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have yelled. I just—fuck, I was so worried.” He rushes over, arms sliding around me. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
I shake my head against his chest, choking the words out between sobs.
“No… I… I’m pregnant.”
Saying it makes it more real. I crumble harder.
