“Bleeding isn’t always cause for concern in the first trimester,” she says finally, and the barbs around my ribs loosen. “Especially if it was only a small amount. It could have been implantation bleeding. When was your last full period?”
Mia thinks for a second. “Around six weeks ago.”
“The sixth of last month,” I add. “It lasted four days. Her bleeding at the start of this month was light, and only for a day and a half.”
Dr. Patel blinks. Mia rolls her eyes. “You’re obsessed with my uterus.”
“I’m obsessed with you,” I correct, hovering like I’m already half-mad with worry. If anything is wrong with her or the baby, I’ll lose my mind.
The machine beeps and the doctor peers down at the display. “Blood pressure looks fine.” She unfastens the cuff and tucks the device back into her bag. “I’d like to take some bloods—check your hCG levels now and in a few days, just to make sure things are progressing normally. I’d also recommend a full blood panel and,” she pulls out a sample bottle, “I need some urine, please.”
Mia nods, pushing up to her feet. I’m at her side instantly, steadying her when she wobbles.
“You okay?”
Her eyes close for a moment, her mouth tight. “Yeah, just got lightheaded.”
“She’s dizzy,” I tell Dr. Patel, as if she’s not seeing this for herself.
I expect concern. Urgency. A plan. But the doctor just smiles at me. “It’ll pass. Make sure you’re eating enough, staying hydrated. Rest when you can.”
“That’s it?”
Dr. Patel gives me a patient smile. She’s used to dealing with me when it comes to my wife. “I’m afraid so.”
“There has to be something you can do,” I press, irritated now. “She’s sick.”
Mia squeezes my arm. “Jensen.”
I don’t care about being polite. I care about my wife standing next to me wobbly and dizzy. Dr. Patel smiles and it pissesme off. “Pregnancy isn’t easy on the body, Mr. Rivers, but everything Mia has described to me is normal at this stage of her pregnancy.”
Mia shoots me a look that screamscalm down. I ignore it and walk with her to the bathroom.
“I can pee on my own,” she grumbles as I open the door and step in with her.
“I know.” I don’t leave. I lean against the sink while she huffs and does her business.
Her shoulders are tight, her movements slow enough to cause my chest to lock. I stay close while she washes her hands, in case she so much as sways, and then I take her back to the couch.
Mia hands over the sample to Dr. Patel, who’s already set up a small cardboard tray on the coffee table.
I don’t care what the doctor’s doing. I’m focused on my wife. I help Mia sit and cover her again with the blanket, tucking it tight around her legs. Like keeping her warm is the only thing that matters.
She squeezes my hand when I stop fussing. “I’m okay,” she says gently.
I kiss her temple, needing the contact. “I know.”And she’ll stay that way because I’ll damn well make sure of it.
“Well, you’re definitely pregnant, Mia,” Dr. Patel says, holding up the test strip. The two lines are visible from here.
Hearing it confirmed by the doctor hits like a pure shot of fucking dopamine right into my veins. I could fall to my knees and kiss every inch of Mia’s belly.
“Let’s get the bloods done,” Dr. Patel continues, “then I’ll get out of your hair.”
She heads to the kitchen to wash her hands.
I frown after her, but before I can say anything Mia nudges me, a warning. “She’s not the enemy, Jensen. Be nice.”
There is no nice when it comes to protecting my wife and our baby.
