I was more thankful than ever that it was empty, and more than grateful for the distraction of the fish tank when I settled onto the couch. On the other side of the room, the receptionist was talking to someone on the phone, her voice so low I couldn’t make out a single syllable. Not that I wanted to. At the moment, all I wanted was to block out everything that was happening.
I picked a fish at random, focusing on it as it swam incircles, twisting between rocks and plastic pink and orange foliage and bubbles. It was bright blue with fins larger than most of the others, and a round body that reminded me of a tick about to pop. Or a pregnant woman.
Damn. Damn my thoughts, and damn these people, and damn my body for being fertile.
I blinked when tears burned my eyes, threatening to make an appearance. No. They would not succeed. I would not let these people see how weak I was. Would not show them how much this hurt.
“Ara!”
Hilary’s excited voice made me jump and twist to face the cursed frosted glass door. My fertility counselor was standing with it propped open, her smile bright and her eyes wide with excitement. If I could throw something at her, I would.
Instead, I forced myself to stand, forced my voice to come out even as I said, “Hilary.”
“I hear you’re here for a test.” She stomped her feet excitedly. “Yay!”
I refused to make a sound or react.
Not at all deterred by my indifference, Hilary pushed the door open wider and waved enthusiastically. “Well, come on.”
I obeyed in silence, moving through the door and stepping aside so I could wait for her to lead the way. She did, chattering as I followed. I didn’t hear a word. Didn’t want to. I did not care what this woman had to say.
She turned at the first hall and stopped at the second door on the right. “There should be specimen cups inside.”
I could just make out a sink and toilet when I peered into the dark room.
“I thought there would be a blood test,” I said, shifting my focus to Hilary.
“Nope.”
Great. I’d hoped to have a delay in the results, but since it was a urine test, that wouldn’t happen. Which meant in less than five minutes – ten if I dragged my feet – I would have the results.
When I didn’t make a move, Hilary waved toward thebathroom door. “Go on, now.”
“Yeah.” I glanced toward the bathroom, swallowed, then forced myself to move.
Everything that happened next was a blur. Locating the cup, removing my pants, sitting on the toilet. It was so much like an out of body experience that I couldn’t even recall peeing, and even after I was redressed and standing at the door holding the warm cup, I had no idea if I’d washed my hands. Not that I cared. Not that it mattered. This was it. I was about to find out if I would be having a baby in nine months.
I straightened my shoulders and opened the door.
Hilary’s bright smile made me cringe.
“Ready!” she exclaimed in a much too loud voice.
Saying nothing, I held out the cup, silently wishing I hadn’t remembered to wash my hands. And that I’d splashed a little.
Even though Hilary couldn’t have missed my rebellious attitude, her smile didn’t fade as she took the cup, and she said nothing. She wasn’t wearing gloves, and I had to bite back my smirk.
I expected her to call a nurse or take it somewhere, but instead she moved to the door across the hall. The lights turned on automatically when she stepped into the room, and seconds later, she disappeared from view.
As if in a trance, I crossed the hall, reaching the doorway as she set the cup on a counter. I stood in stunned silence as she started rummaging through the cabinet. In seconds, she had a packaged stick in her hand, which she ripped open. Still no gloves. Maybe I could use that somehow down the road. Complain about hygiene or something? Maybe.
Hilary tore into the package, keeping the stick partially covered. Then she removed the lid from the cup and pulled the test from its packaging, careful not to touch the sensor. When she dipped that end in my urine, I held my breath. I had no idea how long it would take. No clue how I should react. No clue what the fuck was happening because this sure as hell couldn’t be real.
After a few seconds, Hilary pulled the stick out, put the cap back on, and ripped a paper towel from the holder on the wall.She set the paper down and put the test on top, not looking at me. Acting like I didn’t exist. Acting like the stick she was staring at was hers and the results would only affect her.
My lungs started to burn, but still I didn’t exhale. Seconds ticked by, and the need for air grew, but I refused to give my body any sort of relief. I couldn’t relent. Not when this was my only way of taking any kind of control over my life.
Hilary’s attention was riveted on the test, but I was staring at her face, which was how I knew the results before she even made a sound.
