Page 6 of Say I'm Yours, Firecracker

Of course, it was.

The lock snicked and the sound felt like a death sentence, loud in the silence of my freak-out. A tall woman with smooth tawny skin slipped into the small room. Braids fell from her head, much like my boss’s wife, Kelly’s. Except they were all one color and lacked the golden jewels Kelly preferred.

Her smile was dazzling, not a wrinkle in sight. There was no way she was in her fifties like the brochure said, she couldn’t be much older than my thirty-two. Her lips were painted a dark purple color, she was dressed in jeans and a comfy looking long-sleeve sweater, and her kind eyes were softening around the edges.

“Hi, Ronnie,” she started, her voice like melted butter, smooth and strong, yet incredibly gentle. “How are you feeling?”

My mouth opened, damn near dropping to the floor. “Me?” I pointed to my chest, fingernails long since worn down to the nub.

She laughed a little, smiling even more than when she first arrived if it was even possible. “Yes, you. All of these big emotions are hitting you at once. It’s got to feel…overwhelming, I’d guess?”

I tried to gather my thoughts because I had a lot of them rattling around in my brain. Where did I start? Do I tell her my medical history? Do I need to call someone to let them know I’m going with another doctor?

Was a doula even a doctor? Was she qualified to birth a baby? Was I?

She reached across the room, her hands slowly gripping my biceps as she gently pushed me onto the little table with the lamp.

“I can see your brain working overtime through your eyes.” She closed the toilet lid and sat to face me. “Let me tell you a little more about myself than what you’ll find in those brochures.” She was waiting for me to give her some signal to move forward, but I continued to stare at her, thoughts churning.

“Okay. I am a licensed obstetrician. Practiced for twenty years, and now I’m also a doula, certified in all fifty states. I’ve delivered hundreds of babies. The difference between me and your last doctor? I practice natural medicine, but am fully capable of handling medicated cases as well.”

“I’m pregnant.” It’s the first time I’d said it out loud, and it felt foreign rolling off my tongue. The admittance, the acceptance, was peaceful, hanging in the air like an invisible thread waiting to be woven into my life’s tapestry.

“Is that what the test said? Or your body?” She nodded to the pregnancy test, where two pink lines shined clear as day, unmistakable.

“I didn’t think I could have a baby,” I whispered, trying to hold back tears. I wasn’t sure I could blame the hormones just yet, but I’d cried more in the past two days than I had in as long as I could remember. “My body isn’t right for a baby.”

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hugged me tight as silent tears tracked paths down my cheeks. “Your body is perfect for your baby.” With her rubbing soothing circles on my back I cried harder, harder than I had in a long, long time.

I lifted my head once I felt more in control of my emotions, only to decide a hole is what I shall now live in because my tears stained her nice sweater, and snot began to pour out of my nose. She probably thought I was a train wreck, crying over becoming pregnant when there were women out there who would kill to be in my position.

I was mortified, and mentally chastising myself for all of my ungrateful thoughts. “I’m sorry.”

She looked down at her shoulder, the one now sporting a huge wet spot from my freak out, and said, “Oh this? It’s the new ‘in’ fashion, didn’t you know?”

We laughed in unison, and I felt a weight lift slightly off my chest. “I need to tell the father.” I spit out so quickly I didn’t think she heard me.

“That’s a great first step. How about we go ahead and do an exam, an ultrasound, and bloodwork to make sure everything is healthy?”

“Yeah, okay.” I whispered to myself still not convinced this was real.

I nodded, as if on autopilot letting her guide me up and out of the bathroom. Bright light assaulted my senses after being in the near dark for so long. Then I remembered my pee stick. Dropping the doctor’s hand I rushed back in and grabbed the offending device. Holding it up for everyone to see, “Can’t forget this.”

The nice lady in the front chuckled a little under her breath and the doctor smiled. It occurred to me that I still didn’t know her name, because all of the information in the brochures was jumbled up in my brain. I saw framed degrees along the light gray walls as she led me ahead.

Dr. Ashton Sofia Steele.

A giggle burst from my body uninhibitedly. Her initials were A.S.S. Gah I bet kids gave her hell growing up.

She smiled as if she knew what I was thinking. “Sorry,” I mumbled, ashamed that was the first thing my mind thought, especially since she’d been nothing but nice to me. She waved her hand dismissing the sentiment.

“Call me Dr. Ass, I know Regina does behind my back.”

“I do not!” I heard the front desk lady shout with a laugh.

“She does. But sometimes I deserve it.” She whispered behind her hand like we were co-conspirators. “You may also just call me Ashton.”

Continuing a few short steps she opened a door to our left, signaling I go in first. The room was sparsely furnished, with the exam table and a television mounted on the wall. There was a rolling chair in the room, that as a child, I had always wanted to sit on but my parents never let me.

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