Page 33 of The Game Plan
After the nurse weighs me, and I feel slight embarrassment over the number on the scale, she leads me to the exam room. Once I climb onto the table and wait for the doctor, a shiver runs through my body at the chill in the room. Why are all doctors’ offices so cold? It’s not like we’re going to get comfortable and never want to leave. It doesn’t help matters that the smell of sanitizer is strong today. Grant takes a chair in the corner, arms crossing over his chest, as he scans the room. I watch as his eyes widen at all the female anatomy on the wall. But never once does he comment.
A soft knock on the door has me wiggling on the paper, my anxious energy nearly palpable.
“Hi, Savannah,” Dr. Sinclair says, smiling as she scans over my chart before pausing near the sink. “Oh, hello. I’m Dr. Sinclair, and you are…”
“Grant,” he answers, sitting straighter in his chair. “I’m a friend…well, roommate, technically.”
This is awkward. Why is he being so weird? Dr. Sinclair hums, quirking an eyebrow in my direction, clearly sensing the energy between us.
“Is it okay if he stays for the appointment?” she asks, looking directly at me.
“Yes,” I say quickly. “He can stay.”
A flush warms my cheeks, and I have no idea why. Dr. Sinclair continues. “Great. Let’s check in. You’re measuring right on track for thirty-two weeks. Any Braxton Hicks contractions?”
“A few, nothing too crazy…”
My words trail off as movement from Grant catches my attention. He sits forward in his chair, gripping his chair handle. Terror flares in his eyes, darkening the hazel color to a deep brown. “Wait. Contractions?” His voice is deep, full of concern.
“Yes.” Dr. Sinclair nods, turning her attention to Grant. “It’s very common at this stage to have false labor pains andcontractions. They’re called Braxton Hicks. I’ll get you some pamphlets before you leave. If you’re going to be living together at this stage of pregnancy, you should be informed.”
He nods, and Dr. Sinclair looks back at me. “Any concerns about the baby’s movement?”
“No.” I chuckle, rubbing my hand over my baby bump. “It’s like a full-blown party in there.”
“Sav should know all about parties,” Grant states, and my eyes snap to his. “I don’t know why I said that.”
That earns a soft laugh from Dr. Sinclair. “Let’s listen to the heartbeat and check positioning.”
I shift onto the table and roll my shirt. Grant quietly moves closer, leaning forward on his elbows. Dr. Sinclair warms the gel in her hand before applying a dollop onto my stomach. She places the Doppler on the goop, low on my belly, as she moves back and forth.
There’s static at first. Then—
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
The sound is louder now than it was the last time we listened. My eyes fly to Grant’s, where I watch in fascination as he hears my baby’s heartbeat for the first time. His eyes widen as his mouth drops open in surprise.
“Th-that’s your baby.” His voice is full of awe, and my smile deepens.
“Heartbeat’s perfect,” Dr. Sinclair says, wiping the gel with a paper towel. Her hands running over my stomach cause the baby to follow the movement. “Head down, which is great. Still plenty of time, but it’s a good sign.”
“Are you doing okay emotionally, witheverything?” She stresses the word, and I interpret the meaning. I nod my answer.
“Good.” Helping me sit up, she continues. “If the swelling worsens or you notice headaches or dizziness, call immediately.Keep in mind—your hormones will only get stronger from here on out. Find a…way tohandlethem.”
My cheeks heat at the implication. I’ve noticed the shift in hormones, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the pregnancy or from the attractive man I’ve found myself living with.
“We’ll check again at thirty-four weeks, and then every week after that. You’re so close, Savannah.”
She smiles at me before moving over to the counter, opening a drawer and pulling out some pamphlets. “These are some helpful topics you might want to familiarize yourself with.”
He takes the pamphlets, nodding, before sifting through them, reading the titles.
“Any questions?”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I sheepishly look over at Grant. He’s sitting there, looking back at me. “Actually, I know I have the envelope at home, but would you mind telling us the gender?”
Dr. Sinclair’s eyes warm as a smile spreads across her face. I stretch my hand out in a silent question, asking Grant to join me. He stands, moving toward me as nerves hit me with full force.
