Page 137 of Through You
“Claudia Martinez,” a nurse calls from the door.
The nurse leads the way to Dr. Diaz’s consultation room.
Dr. Diaz is a woman in her forties, with black hair and eyes. She smiles when she sees us. Her eyes linger a little longer on the man next to me, and I don’t blame her. Artemis is far too attractive for his own good.
“A pleasure to meet you.” She shakes our hands. “My name is Katherine Diaz and I’m very happy you chose me to be part of an important phase in your lives. It’s Claudia, right?”
I nod, and she looks over at Artemis.
“Artemis Hidalgo,” he replies cordially.
“Hidalgo?” Dr. Diaz raises her eyebrows in surprise. “From Hidalgo Enterprises?
“Very well,” she says from the opposite side of the desk, while she looks over the forms I filled out a few days ago. “First of all: congratulations on your pregnancy, Claudia. According to the information you’ve provided, you are eight weeks along. Today, we’re going to do some blood tests to check that your levels are normal in light of the medical scare you went through recently due to a mild case of anemia.”
“Yes, she fainted,” Artemis adds.
“How do you feel now, Claudia?”
“Good.” I tell her the truth. “I get nauseated from time to time. And my breasts hurt, but I assumed that was normal.”
“Right. We’re going to check your progress and conduct an ultrasound to confirm that everything is all right.”
She leads us to an adjacent examination room, where I lie on the table next to an ultrasound machine with a fairly large screen.
Artemis sits next to me and takes my hand. Dr. Diaz puts on her gloves and spreads a gel on my lower abdomen while I take a deep breath. My eyes remain fixed on the screen, hoping I’ll be able to see everything.
“There it is,” she murmurs. Artemis and I exchange looks because I can’t see anything on the screen except for gray-and-black images. Dr. Diaz smiles and points to the smallest circle I have ever seen.
I squint and try to get a better look until she enlarges the image.
“It’s still too early to get a good look in a sonogram but I wanted to make sure everything was fine because you had anemia,” she comments while she carries on with her assessment.
Artemis is spellbound. His eyes are fixed on the screen. I smile at his reaction and turn back to look at the monitor.
“And here’s the gestational sac, and inside we can see the small embryo growing.”
An unfamiliar sensation seizes my heart, and for the first time since I received the news, I feel absolute happiness. I never thought it was possible to love something this quickly, but perhaps seeing it has changed everything.
You’re a tiny circle, baby.
“Very good, everything looks normal,” she says as she completes the exam. “I’ll set up an appointment for tomorrow so we can get your blood work done. For now, continue to take the vitamins prescribed by the emergency doctor, and keep a healthy diet,” she explains with a smile. “I’ll see you in two weeks to check that everything is coming along. Once again, congratulations, Mrs. Hidalgo.”
My mouth freezes as it’s about turn into a smile. Mrs. Hidalgo?
Artemis and I respond at the same time.
“No . . .”
“No . . .”
We both stop and exchange glances, and I can feel the heat on my cheeks.
“We’re not married,” I clarify with a forced smile.
“Oh.” Dr. Diaz blushes. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to assume.”
An awkward silence settles around us. I stand up and say good-bye, and we rush out of her office as soon as she gives me the slip with the information for the next appointment.
