“Good. So, let’s get to work, shall we? I’m guessing you’d like to hear a heartbeat today?”
“Very much,” I say. One healthy heartbeat. Not nine.
“Excellent. I have a few questions, then we’ll get you to hop up on the table so I can examine you.” She opens my file and picks up a pen.
“What was the first day of your last period?”
“Oh, God,” Arthur says. “Perhaps I should wait outside.”
I level him with a look that says he better keep his royal arse in his chair. “March twentieth.”
“Okay. And you’ve done an at-home pregnancy test?”
“Yes, several.”
“Any spotting or cramping?”
“No, none.”
“Excellent. Any nausea yet?”
“A little, yes,” I say.
“A little?” Arthur says. “That girl inThe Exorcistvomited a little compared to you.”
I glower at him, and Dr. Dropp laughs at our exchange.
“So, quite a bit of nausea, then?”
“Yes, I really have felt very unwell.” Oh, now that sounded like a true princess, no?
“Seems awfully early for that, but not to worry. There’s a surprisingly large range of what’s considered normal.” She picks up a prescription pad and starts to scribble on it. “No need for you to go on like that. I can give you a prescription to get you feeling tiptop by this afternoon.”
I open my mouth, but she holds up her hand. “Perfectly safe for the baby. I promise.”
***
AFEW MINUTES LATER, I’m lying on the exam table while Dr. Dropp checks my tummy. Arthur stands next to me, holding my hand. I squeeze his fingers, feeling terrified and excited at the same time, and to be honest, a little awkward at having my shirt lifted and my belly showing.
She gets the Doppler monitor and presses the microphone thingy to my tummy. Immediately, a thumping sound is heard through the machine. Tears fill my eyes, and when I look up at Arthur, he’s every bit as emotional as I feel.
We listen for a moment, then Arthur’s face screws up in concern. “That sounds too fast. Is it too fast?”
Dr. Dropp shakes her head. “No. Perfectly normal.”
“And I only hear one heartbeat, so there’s just the one baby in there?” I ask.
Dr. Dropp moves the microphone away from my tummy for a second. “Actually, even with multiples, this machine only picks up one heartbeat at a time. The one nearest.”
Damn. So there could be nine of them in there, and I would never know.
When she puts the mic back down, it’s on a different spot on my tummy. She pauses for a second, then says, “Oh, look at that. The baby must be on the move. She’s over here now.”
“Or he,” Arthur adds.
“Or he,” Dr. Dropp says.
***
