14
Denise - Confirmation and Coffee
Waiting in the office of my OB/Gyn is certainly eye opening. There are women here in all stages of pregnancy, as well as some women who have small babies, and some women who look a little older than me who could be here for anything.
I was surprised but happy when I called yesterday and the nurse was able to squeeze me in for an appointment today. I was expecting to have to wait a week or more. I don’t want to tell Andrew about the baby until I’ve had confirmation from the doctor, you know, in case I had three false positives from those pee stick tests.
The nurse has already had me pee in a cup so I will get a result from the doctor once I’m called in to see her. I’m a little nervous even though I’m sure I already know the result. But what if I’m not pregnant? The more time I’ve had to think about it, the more I like the idea of having a baby. I wish the situation were a little different, but it’s not like I’ll be the first woman to have a baby without a partner. Plus, like Alex said, this kid will have tons of uncles and an amazing auntie to help. I will have a village, likely a better one than many moms have.
“Denise?” The receptionist calls me and I stand up. She leads me to an exam room in the back. They decorated the walls with anatomically correct illustrations of the female genital organs and there is a 3-D model of a cross-section of the same sitting on the doctor’s desk. Besides those are advertisements for different types and brands of birth control interspersed amongst cheesy, worn out posters of people holding babies. it’s very dated and boring.
I’m planning the logistics of making her an embroidered version of the anatomically correct female genital organs when there is a knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, the doctor walks in.
“Hello Denise, what can I do for you today?” she asks as she picks up my chart. “It says here you think you’re pregnant? What makes you think that?”
“I took three home pregnancy tests, and they were all positive.”
“Well,” she says with a smile, “that certainly narrows it down then, doesn’t it?”
I laugh a little. “Yeah, it does. Circumstances with the father have changed, so I just wanted to get confirmation from you before I tell him.”
“Well, the urine test we did when you checked in says that you are indeed pregnant. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” I’m not surprised, but hearing it from a doctor makes it feel a little more real.
“Have you been having any trouble with nausea?” she asks.
“Just a little. I was feeling off for several weeks and then I threw up in the morning for about a week or so but that seems to have calmed down already.”
“That’s completely normal,” she says. “There are going to be some other things to watch for in pregnancy with a woman of your age.”
She explains all the possibilities that could happen with what they apparently call a ‘geriatric pregnancy’. So that’s fun. From a slightly increased risk of miscarriage to an increased chance of stillbirth after 20 weeks. There’s also the possibility that premature birth is more likely. And let’s not forget the increased chance of birth defects being present.
I may not need a partner to have a baby, but it sure wouldn’t be bad if I had someone to share this anxiety with. So many women are having their babies older and older that I didn’t really consider a pregnancy at my age would be much different than any other pregnancy.
“Well, that all sounds fabulous, doc,” I tell her, my voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Now tell me the bad news.”
“I know it sounds daunting,” she says gently, “but these are not the likeliest of scenarios. The best thing you can do to mitigate the risk is to eat a healthy diet, take your prenatal vitamins, get light exercise, and really take care of yourself. Stop at the desk on the way out and the nurse will give you some pamphlets and book recommendations so you can learn more.”
“Sure thing,” I say, standing up. “Thanks for squeezing me in today. Have a good one.”
I stop at the desk like she recommended, and the nurse loads me down with pamphlets. She also writes a list of books and websites that will help. I need all the information I can get. This pregnancy seems to get more complicated by the minute.
On my way home, I stop at the bookstore to pick up a few of the books that are on the list. It’s clear that some of them are more informative and some of them are more for entertainment. I appreciate that the nurse took the time to consider that I might need some cheerful content along with the dry facts.
While I’m here, I pick up a couple of wedding magazines for Alex. She doesn’t know she’s getting engaged this weekend, but I think I will invite her over next week to go through the magazines and talk about her for a change. We don’t know each other that well and she has been such a good friend throughout this pregnancy already. I want to make sure she knows that our friendship goes two ways; I’m not just here for what she can give me. Plus, I’m awesome at organizing things. I’d love to help her plan her wedding.
I’m walking to the register, juggling a stack of books and magazines, when I spot Ryder standing in line at the cafe in the front corner of the store. I don’t want him to see me after what went down between us the other day, and I especially don’t want him to see me with this stack of pregnancy books. My eyes scan my surroundings and spot an empty shopping basket sitting on top of a display of books, and I grab it for myself. I get my pile of books into the basket with the magazines on top, effectively disguising the books. And just in time, too.
“Denise?” Ryder’s gravelly voice cuts through the noise of the store, causing me to jump a little, even though I was kind of expecting it. Looks like he gave up on ordering coffee in favour of coming over to talk to me. “What are you doing here?”
I turn around and hold up my basket a little. “Just grabbing some wedding magazines and books. I’m thinking I will invite Alex over next week after she’s officially engaged. We can have some food and go through them so she can start planning her wedding.”
“That’s a great idea,” he says, looking directly into my eyes. “You should get Becca to join you, too. I’m sure she’ll be in the wedding party so you might as well get her help right away. Don’t let her get away with slacking off.” He laughs. “I didn’t know you and Alex were such good friends. It’s nice to see that you have some more women friends to do stuff with. It must be hard hanging around with just a bunch of guys all the time.”
It’s my turn to laugh now. “Well, there is something to be said about the improved smell that comes with women friends. Being on a bus with a bunch of stinky guys for months at a time brings new meaning to the word ‘fragrance’”
“I’m one of those stinky guys, and even I have to agree with you on that one. The tiny shower on that bus is not as effective as I would like. Plus, when we all need to wait around to use it, the smell of us just soaks into all the bus’s upholstery. I’m almost happier that we rent a bus when we need one so we don’t have to deal with getting rid of that smell ourselves.”
