Page 76 of Full Out Fiend
We’ve had a heck of a time scheduling some of my prenatal appointments, mostly because Fielding has class every weekday and he has a forty-five-minute commute.
But this appointment is a priority. It’s the twenty-week anatomy scan, a.k.a., the second ultrasound. This is when they’ll check her growth and make sure everything is progressing. We already know we’re having a girl, and we’re both over-the-moon excited to see her on the screen this afternoon.
Fielding squeezes my hand repeatedly as the ultrasound tech rolls a barrier onto the internal probe. I once again avoid looking at him for this part—but for an entirely different reason. Whereas before it was justawkward, now I expect he’d purposely make a joke or tease me.
“All right, mama. Just lay back and relax. I have to take some measurements and update your chart before we get to the good stuff and see baby.”
I blow out a long breath and focus on the flatscreen TV as Fielding rubs soothing circles around my knuckles.
“You good?” he whispers, concern lacing his words.
I smile my assurance. “So good.”
He kisses our joined hands, then focuses back on the screen.
The internal probe doesn’t hurt, but my bladder’s full again, and every bit of pressure has me tensing.
“Hmm. Do you already know your placenta is low?”
The question catches me off guard. This is only the second ultrasound we’ve had—I don’t know a single thing about my placenta. Am I supposed to?
“I—no, I didn’t know that. What does that mean?”
“The official term for the condition is placenta previa. It means the placenta is covering your cervix along the bottom of your uterus. It’s not uncommon, but it can cause issues if it doesn’t move as the pregnancy progresses.”
“What sort of issues?” Fielding demands.
“The doctor will answer all your questions after the appointment,” the tech replies casually, clicking around the screen as she captures various angles of my insides.
His hand tightens around mine, but I don’t dare look at him. The mood in the room just nose-dived. I’m on the verge of tears, and I don’t even know what placenta previa means.
“Hey,” he murmurs, calling my attention to him as the tech swaps out devices and lowers the paper cover to squirt cold gel onto my belly.
“They didn’t stop the appointment or call a doctor in,” he points out, scooting his chair closer so we’re almost nose to nose. “She’s okay.We’reokay,” he assures me and kisses me quickly before glancing back up at the screen.
“And there’s baby!” the tech announces, pressing the transponder into my belly button as our daughter takes shape on the screen. “Do you already know what you’re having?”
“A girl,” I confirm, completely transfixed by the black and white images on the screen. The first thing I see is a nose. A perfect, pointed little nose. Then the inset of her eyes, the curve of her lips. A tiny fist raises up and covers her face a moment later.
“She’s waving hi,” the tech coos.
I can’t help but side-eye Fielding, fully expecting to see him biting back a laugh about all the commentary.
But he’s captivated by the screen.
“Look at her, angel. Just look.” His tear-filled eyes are on me for an instant before he’s focused on the screen again. “That’s our girl.”
The rest of the scan goes by in a blur, the tech babbling happily about how everything’s measuring in range and printing off a dozen grainy pictures for us. It’s not until we’re sitting in the exam room afterward that my nerves ratchet up again.
The physician I’m seeing today is new to me. She enters the room in a rush, apologizing for keeping us waiting. Normally, I wouldn’t mind. But today I’m unbelievably anxious to get some answers.
She glances at her notes, then looks back at me with a sympathetic smile. “Is this dad?” she asks, nodding toward Fielding.
“Yes. We’re together,” I confirm. Anything she has to say can be said in front of Fielding. Ineedhim to hear it. He’ll understand more about what this means than I will, and he’ll know what sorts of questions to ask.
“Everything looks great with baby. Our only concern right now is the placement of your placenta. With the way it’s positioned, there’s a good chance it’ll shift and move to the back of your uterus as your pregnancy progresses. But placenta previa does come with an increased chance of bleeding, and if the placenta doesn’t move, vaginal delivery is out of the question.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, panicked. I haven’t done a ton of research about birth options yet, but I hate that I might already be headed for a c-section.
