by Hannah Meade
Thirty
I fiddle with the radio stations the whole drive to the doctor's office. I just can't seem to calm down, no matter how hard I try.
Emily keeps telling me that it will be okay; that I will be okay. But how am I supposed to believe her?
I have been having issues all week. I have thrown up at least once a day, especially last night. I couldn't sleep worth a shit at night. I have no fucking idea what is wrong with me, and I am so nervous that it is something I can't easily fix. What if I have something life-threatening? What am I supposed to do then?
Emily's comforting words can't fix the anxiousness I feel; not in the least.
"Mia, if you don't pick a fucking station, you're going straight to the fucking hospital."
I shoot her a glare, but quit changing the stations. I settle instead for twiddling my thumbs and looking out the window.
Emily sighs. "Mia. It will be fine. I'm sure it's nothing serious. It's probably just the flu or something. Just relax."
Easy for her to say. She isn't the one going to an appointment.
I gaze out the window, watching as the cookie cutter houses seem to walk on by. Jealousy bubbles in my stomach as I watch little girls and their mothers plant flowers in their front yards. I wish to be the little girl in her Cinderella costume, constantly smiling and laughing. She seems so happy; something I strive to be. Especially right now.
Memories flood in my mind as I think back to my own mother-daughter moments. I remember helping her with her garden; planting blueberries and different types of flowers, like her favorite Stargazer Lilies. I will never forget how much passion she put into her gardening; into keeping those flowers alive for as long as she could. She always told me: Even when everything in my life is going to shit, at least I can control these growing flowers.
On the rare days she wasn't out gardening, she took me places. We used to live in the state of Florida, so we had so much to our disposal. My mother used to take my family and I to Disneyworld every weekend, except when we had other events going on. We bought season passes every year, and my mother never missed a year. Those were always one of our Christmas presents.
On weekdays, after school, we would always go on an adventure. She took me to the local zoo, until closing. She would make sure I saw every little thing at the zoo, no matter how many times I had already seen it. When I got tired of seeing the animals, we went on hikes.
In the spring and summer months, my mother would take me up multiple trails a day, for as long as I could handle. She would pack my small, child backpack with snacks and plenty of water, and we would head off. Now, I can't help but be thankful for her. I would not have the body I have now, without her taking me with on hiking trips.
Unfortunately, those are just memories. I'm not even sure if my mother and I can ever be that close again. All of our little adventures are in the past, living only in the deep recesses of my brain.
I am jerked back into reality when Emily slams on the brakes, causing a scream to escape my throat. "Emily!"
I glance over and see her hand is on her chest, trying to control her beating heart. She looks over at me with wide eyes. "Shit."
"What happened?!"
She immediately points her finger out the window, just to the left of her car. "That asshole just fucking cut me off! In the middle of the damn intersection! He's lucky I looked twice before driving straight through my green light."
I follow her finger, my eyes landing on a car that is flying through another intersection. I roll my eyes at the idiot. This is a town, for god's sake. Anyone going over thirty-five is just asking to kill someone, or themselves.
Emily takes one last deep breath and shifts the car into drive, pulling out of her rested position. "Let's just hope we get there without getting killed."
I can't help but let out the laugh I'm holding.
Emily glares at me. "It's not funny, Mia. We could've fucking died."
"But we didn't."
Emily rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Just shut up. We're almost there, and I can't wait to get rid of you."
My best friend is really something, isn't she?
I look up ahead and see the familiar beige building, with a couple hundred rooms in it. Why my small little town needs that many hospital rooms, I don't know. We barely have that many people living here.
The uneasy feeling makes its way back into my stomach, almost like it knows what's about to happen.
I resist the urge to throw up as Emily maneuvers her car into a parking space, right in front. Well, at least I don't have to run very far if I decide to bolt. Which is seeming like a damn good idea as we walk up to the doors, stepping right through as they slide out of the way for us.
I breathe in the sickly fumes of the hospital; those of death and disinfectant. Every time I've been in a hospital, it always seems as if someone has just cleaned the whole building. I mean, they must clean regularly. Although it wouldn't hurt to place air fresheners throughout the hospital.
As Emily checks me in, I sit down in one of the awfully uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. I feel sorry for all of the people with back issues. After sitting in one of these chairs, the chiropractor must be calling their name.
I look around at the other patients, awaiting the nurse to call their own name. Since we're such a small town, there aren't many people here. A mother sits with what I assume is her little girl, who is curled up in a blanket. I feel a ping of sympathy for the little girl, as I can see her bright red nose peeking above her blanket. What I can see of her face is pale, too, indicating that she's sick. I just hope it's a simple cold, for her sake.
My eyes continue to glaze around the room, landing on an elderly man. He doesn't seem to be here for a check, however. He reads a magazine, and continues to glance over at one of the rooms, as if he is waiting for someone to come out. His face conveys a feeling of despair, and I notice how his lips are turned upside down. I can't help but imagine what is causing him pain; obviously something behind that door. Or rather, someone.
"Mia Hatheway." My eyes instantly avert to the hospital doors, where a nurse stands. She smiles when I catch her eyes, and she gestures me over.
My face pales as I realize that I must go now, to see what is wrong with me. I almost turn and run, getting the hell out of here. But then I feel a warm hand on my arm, encouraging me forward. My head turns slightly and I catch Emily's gaze. She smiles reassuringly at me, and I inwardly smack myself for thinking about bolting.
She nods at me and I propel myself forward, to the awaiting nurse.
Left, right.
Left, right.
Just a few more steps and I reach the nurse, who rests her hand on my arm for a second and then leads me to a small room. She asks me to sit on the table, and I cringe as it slightly crinkles beneath me.
I breathe a sigh of relief when Emily also walks in and sits in the chair opposite me. I don't know if I can be in here without Emily.
The nurse closes the door, and I instantly tense up. This is it. She's going to tell me, finally, what's the matter. Why I have been throwing up constantly. Why I'm always tired and taking naps. I'm tired of fighting this and I just want answers.
Hopefully she can give them to me.
"Okay, let's get started." My nurse, Rosie, claps her hands together. She goes over to her counter and gets out her supplies. She walks over to me, and first checks my temperature. 98.5 Normal. One thing checked off the list.
She looks into my eyes, my ears, and my mouth. She tells me everything looks as it should be. Some tension is released from my body as she continues to tell me how fine I am. I start to think that I will be fine. I'll just be diagnosed with a cold or a minor disease, and be sent on my way.
As Rosie pulls out her stethoscope and listens to my heart, I get nervous again. A frown is etched on her face as she sets the stethoscope up and down again, repeatedly listening to my insides.
She pulls away and smiles again, not reassuring me of anything. A
minute ago, she seemed to be confused. Now, she is grinning her wide smile at me and telling me everything is okay?
Emily notices this and pipes up. "Is everything okay?"
Rosie nods. "Yes. Everything is fine." She then sits down on a stool, and pulls out her clipboard. "Now, can you tell me again what you're symptoms are?"
I nod and rattle off everything that I can remember. "About five months ago, I started feeling nauseous every morning. And I do mean every morning. I would wake up, eat something, and then proceed to throw up. Along with that, I was tired all of the time. The first couple months, I took two to three naps a day."
Emily interrupts me. "And trust me, Mia doesn't take naps. She thinks that she's missing everything if she takes a nap. This is when I started getting concerned."
I nod, and continue. "Yes. And I noticed that I haven't had my period in over two weeks. I was due to start on the first."
She raises her eyebrows at my last comment, but her eyes never leave her clipboard.
I sit in anticipation as I wait for Rosie to finish up. She keeps writing. And writing. And writing. I lean over and see little notes scribbled all over the page, and she seems to be debating something. I clutch my stomach tightly as butterflies flutter nervously about. It is killing me, not knowing what she is writing down. Is it something horrible? I hope not.
I glance over at Emily, who is also intently watching Rosie. Emily is chewing on her fingernails, looking even more nervous than me.
Rosie finally completes her notes and sets her clipboard down, causing my attention to shift to her. She clears her throat. "So. I think you should have some bloodwork done. I will talk this over with the doctor, but for right now, I would greatly appreciate it if you would go to the lab now and get those tests done. I have an idea of what your issue is, but I want to be sure. Testing your bloodwork will help me get a clearer picture of what do to do. So do you want to head over there right now?"
I nod and climb down off the table. The sooner I get this done with, the better. I follow Rosie out the door, with Emily trailing behind. She guides us to the receptionist desk and talks with the lady behind it. Once she is satisfied, she gestures for Emily and I to sit in the waiting room.
I sigh as I sit down, looking over at Emily. "If I have to wait any longer, I'm going to scream. Can't they just tell me what's wrong with me without all of this shit?"
Emily covers her hand in mine and gives me a small smile. "Unfortunately not. Don't worry. It will be fine. We'll get this quick bloodwork over with, and then find out what your problem is."
Her words do nothing to reassure my rapidly beating heart. I'm truly surprised my blood pressure isn't higher. I am positive Rosie felt my rapidly beating heart with her stethoscope.
"Mia Hatheway."
I look up as yet another nurse smiles at me. I feel an uneasy sense of Déjà vu, and I have to swallow back the bile that is rising up in my throat.
I shakily stand up, holding on to Emily's arm for support, and walk to the nurse. We continue on to a room, with about five hundred needles in it. I'm not a baby when it comes to hospitals and blood, but needles are a different stories. I don't understand how anyone can like a sharp needle piercing your sensitive skin and sucking out your warm red blood. I think not.
The nurse prepares my skin, wiping it with a wet cloth. She pokes at my skin with her long, skinny finger, trying to find my vein. I shoot a quick glance at Emily, who grins and gives me two thumbs up. I roll my eyes, casting my eyes back on my nurse. She is currently getting the needle ready, taking the packaging off and flicking it with her finger.
She starts towards me and I break out in a cold sweat. My mind is telling me to look away from the sharp needle moving toward me, but my brain isn't listening. My eyes are glued on my nurse, who continues to shoot me reassuring smiles, which does nothing for my nerves. The only that is going to make me feel better now, is getting that needle as far away from me as possible.
Unfortunately, my wish is not granted. Even after I scrounge up the courage to look away from the needle, nothing can stop the excruciating poke that breaks through me in the next moment.
I bite down on my lip as the nurse pushes the needle in further, making myself bleed a little. I shut my eyes, trying so damn hard to keep the waterworks at bay. I do not need to cry like a child in front of this nurse, or my best friend. It's just a fucking needle, Mia. Grow up.
I gather up what little dignity I have left and open my eyes, letting out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. A second later, and the needle is out. I grin, appreciating how well I handled that situation.
I just can't bring myself to look at the three vials of blood the nurse is holding. Instead, I settle for Emily. She regards me with pride, exactly how I feel.
"Okay, Mia. I will get this to the lab for testing and we will call you when we know something. You are free to go home for now."
I feel an odd mixture of happiness and disappointment at her words. "And when will the results be in?"
She gives me a tight smile, knowing she is about to utter something I don't want to hear. "I'm sorry to tell you, but I honestly do not know when they will be back. It's later in the day, and I don't know how long this will take. It might be tonight. It might be tomorrow. I'm really not sure. We will call you as soon as they come in, though."
I give her a fake smile, when really, I am groaning on the inside. She doesn't know?! Am I just supposed to wait like a lazy sack of potatoes until they decide to fucking call me? Fuck. That.
Nonetheless, I walk out the door and to the car. Emily tries to cheer me up by playing my favorite songs on the way home, but I'm not having it. Who knows how long I will have to wait without knowing what's going on inside of me. I could be waiting for hours. Days. Months.
"Mia, for gods sake. I'm sure they will call in like an hour, and tell you everything is just peachy."
~~~
Three days later, I still haven't gotten a call. I am honestly starting to wonder if they have lost my blood or something. I mean, three days? Really?
I think Emily has gotten annoyed at my constant pacing, but what am I supposed to do?! I could have something seriously wrong with me, and I can't just go back to my normal routine. I need to know now. The constant waiting is pissing me off, and causing me to lose sleep.
Ever since I went to the doctor, I stay awake late at night, waiting for a call. One call. And it hasn't come.
I didn't go to school yesterday or today, because I'm so fucking tired. I can barely keep my eyes open. But I know the second I close them, the damn phone is going to ring. I can't let that happen. Hence why I have dark bags under my eyes.
I am trying to watch Mean Girls Two right now, trying to get my mind off of the doctor. However, I can barely pay attention. Every five seconds, I look over at the phone, expecting it to ring any second.
It never does.
I jump as I hear the door open and slam shut with a loud BAM! "I fucking hate everything!"
I squeeze my eyes shut, wincing as Emily's booming voice thuds through my ears. I already have a huge headache from lack of sleep, and yelling isn't helping.
Before I can ask what the hell she is yelling for, she stomps over to me and plops down on the couch. "Why does everyone in this world have to be so fucking stupid?!"
I wince again, hating how my head feels like it is pounding against my skull. "Emily, please. Can you tell me what's wrong in a quieter voice?"
She rolls her eyes, but fulfills my request. "Fine. So, you know Rory, right? My supposed ex-boyfriend?" I nod, wondering where this is going. We haven't spoken about Rory in at least a year. "Anyway, he's been going around the college saying we slept together! Can you fucking believe that? After a year of not speaking, he thinks he can just go around and tell people we've had sex!"
I nod along, agreeing with Emily as she drones on and on about Rory. I am used to her talking about boys, good and bad things. These conversations can last for hours. Days. Months. I'v
e learned just to nod along with her and say something helpful at the end.
"He's an asshole, Em. Fuck that guy. You have a boyfriend now, who loves you to fucking death. Rory is your past. Bryan is your present." And that's how you get through that.
Emily smiles at me, reaching out and touching my arm. "Thanks, Mimes. You always know what to say."
Right.
She sighs, flopping back against my matching teal pillows. "So, has the doctor called yet?"
I groan. "Don't you think I would've told you by now if they did? No. I've been sitting on my ass, impatiently waiting for the fucking phone to ring."
"I'm sure they will call any..."
BRING
I jump out of the couch, grabbing the phone before it can even ring a second time. "Hello?" I sit back down, bracing myself for the words that will soon come through the phone.
"Hello, Miss Hatheway. Your test results have just come back. I am deeply sorry for the wait, but it took a while for some of the tests."
I nod, then realize she can't see me. I mentally slap myself for being so idiotic. I really need some sleep. "It's fine. So, what's wrong with me?" Might as well jump right into it. No need to dick around with this any longer, right?
I hear her clear her throat through the phone, and my own throat suddenly goes dry. That doesn't' seem like a good sign. "Well, I'm not sure how you will take this."
Nausea bubbles up in my stomach, threatening to travel upward.
"You're pregnant."
I drop the phone, not even caring when it lands smack on my foot. My face pales, taking in the doctor's words.
Emily reaches out and touches my shoulder, but I barely feel it. I barely feel anything at this point. "What did she say? What's wrong with you?"
I swallow, hard. "I'm pregnant," I tell her, my voice barely above a whisper.
Thirty-One
Emily stares at me with wide eyes. "You...you're pregnant?!"
I swallow hard and nod. The more it is said, the more it feels real. I am pregnant. For a second time. And once again, it wasn't planned.
