The paramedic rejoined them. “Okay, Libby. Well, the good news is your oxygen levels are fine. But your blood pressure is low, and given you passed out, we’d like to take you into hospital to get you checked over by a doctor.”
“Hospital? There’s really no need. I—”
“Listen to the paramedic,” Frank interrupted. “You don’t want to take any chances with your health.”
“But really, I just got a bit light-headed. I promise I’ll go home and have a lie-down,” Libby said, but both the paramedic and Frank were staring at her, and she knew she was wasting her breath. “Okay, fine. But there’s nothing wrong with me, I swear.”
•••
TWOhours later, Libby was sitting on a bed in a bay in A&E, all dizziness gone. She’d been wired up for an ECG, had bloods taken, and peed in a small plastic pot. She’d also eaten a cheese sandwich and banana provided by one of the nurses and was feeling even more embarrassed at having wasted everyone’s time. At least she’d managed to convince Frank that he didn’t need to come to the hospital with her, although he’d made her promise she’d call him as soon as she had any news.
After what felt like an eternity, the blue curtain was pulled back and a young doctor walked in, carrying a clipboard.
“Elizabeth Nicholls? I’m Dr.Singh. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m sorry for wasting everyone’s time today.”
“You’re not wasting anyone’s time.” She perched on the edge of the bed and consulted her clipboard. “The good news is that your ECG was normal and there was nothing worrying in your bloods.”
“That’s great. I promise I won’t skip breakfast again.”
“There was one thing that came up, though.” The doctor looked up at Libby. “Your urine sample and blood results both came back with very high levels of HCG. Do you know what that is?”
Libby shook her head.
“HCG is a hormone produced in pregnancy. So the tests indicate that you’re pregnant.”
“What?” Libby was so surprised she almost laughed. “That’s impossible.”
“Do you know when your last period was?”
Libby tried to scan her memory, but blood was beating in her ears and making it hard to concentrate. Why wasn’t the doctor laughing right now and telling her it was a joke?
“But I’ve not had sex for months.”
“I’m sorry to push, Libby, but it would be really helpful to know when your last period was.”
Libby pulled out her phone. She usually tracked her periods in an app, because her sister had once told her it would be useful to have this information when she and Simon started trying to conceive. But now, as she clicked the app open, she saw the last period she’d logged was back in early March. Surely she’d had one since then? Libby desperately cast her mind back over the past few months, but in all the chaos of the breakup with Simon and coming to London, she’d lost all track of her body. She’d definitely had some bleeding at some point, but had that been a proper period?
She looked up at the doctor. “It’s possible it was the fifth of March.”
“Right. So that would mean...” Dr.Singh paused, doing the math. “It would mean you’re fourteen weeks pregnant today.”
“But that’s impossible. Surely I’d have known if I was pregnant for the past three months. You must have mixed my results up with somebody else’s.”
“Have you had any other symptoms? Nausea or fatigue? Any weight gain?”
Libby froze. The feelings of sickness that she’d put down to stress. The extra pounds she’d attributed to all the chocolate croissants. The constant exhaustion that she’d blamed on Hector.
“Oh, crap,” she said as dizziness washed over her again. She put her head in her hands. “I can’t be pregnant. This can’t be happening.”
“I’m sorry this has come as such a shock to you,” Dr.Singh said. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call? Your partner, maybe?”
“No!” Libby said it so loudly she saw the doctor start.
“Okay, I’ll give you a minute alone to process this. Let me make a quick call and get you registered with the maternity unit; then you’re free to go. Okay?” The doctor moved toward the curtain and then stopped. “Are you sure there’s no one you want me to call? Anyone you live with?”
Libby thought of how her sister would react if she received a call saying Libby was pregnant and in hospital, and winced. “No, thank you. There’s no one I want you to call.”
