“I do,” Joelle said. She glanced at the wall of framed diplomas near the window of the office. “I wanted to ask if you would be my obstetrician,” she said.
Rebecca nodded. “Of course.” She looked at her watch and stood up. “How about we start right now. Do you have time for your first prenatal exam?”
Joelle was relieved. That was the invitation she’d been hoping for. She needed to know the baby she’d been neglecting, at least from the perspective of prenatal care, was healthy. “I haven’t felt any movement,” she said, getting to her feet. “If I’m fourteen weeks, shouldn’t I be feeling something?”
“Not yet, but you will soon enough.” Rebecca guided Joelle toward one of the small examination rooms. “Let’s see what the sonogram tells us.”
Rebecca left her alone in the room, where Joelle undressed, put on a blue gown and climbed onto the table.
In a moment, Rebecca returned to the room. After a gentle examination, she began to squeeze warm gel on her stomach.
“I’ve been having some pain down here.” Joelle moved her hands along either side of her groin. “A pulling sort of feeling.”
Rebecca nodded. “Ligament pain,” she said. “That’s normal.” She began sliding the transducer back and forth over Joelle’s belly as an image formed on the monitor.
Joelle had never been able to make out those blurry fetal pictures, but Rebecca was an excellent interpreter.
“This is the head,” she said, pointing to the image in the center of the screen. “These little buds will become his or her arms and legs. Look, you can see one of the hands already. And most importantly, here’s the heart.”
“Oh!” Joelle lifted her head to get a better look at the pulsing speck of life on the monitor. “How beautiful! How big is it?” she asked. “The baby? The fetus?”
“About three and a half inches long,” Rebecca said. “And you are most definitely fourteen weeks, Joelle.”
“Oh, God.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the small, flat pillow. “I feel so guilty for waiting this long to see you. To get prenatal care. Fourteen weeks!”
“Would you like a due date?” Rebecca did not seem to be listening to her ruminations. Instead, she was fiddling with a chart on the counter.
“I figured it would be in mid-January,” Joelle said.
“How about January first?” Rebecca said. “A New Year’s baby.”
A New Year’s baby. It would be just her luck to make the papers as having the first baby of the new year.
“You won’t be able to keep this a secret too much longer,” Rebecca said.
Joelle looked at her. “I plan to move before it becomes that apparent,” she said, then added quickly, “Please keep that between you and me, Rebecca. No one knows. I haven’t turned in my resignation or mentioned it to anyone yet.”
Rebecca frowned as she slipped the transducer back in its holder. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “You can’t leave. You’re an institution in the Women’s Wing.”
“Thanks,” Joelle said, staring at the ceiling, “but I want to go.”
Rebecca wiped the gel from her stomach with a towel. “You don’t need to name names,” she said, “but could you please tell me if the baby’s father will be involved during this pregnancy? Will you have support from him? Does he live somewhere else? Is that why you’ll be moving, to be closer to him?”
Joelle shook her head. “No,” she said. “The father won’t be involved.”
“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked as she helped Joelle to sit up.
“I don’t know yet,” Joelle said, turning to dangle her legs over the side of the table. “Someplace I can start fresh with this baby.”
“Are you running away from something?” Rebecca probed.
“I don’t know.” Joelle shrugged. “No. Yes. Maybe.” She smiled an apology at the doctor for being so evasive. “The important thing is, can you be my obstetrician until I leave, Rebecca? I mean, without telling anyone? Or will that put you in too much of a bind?”
“I’ll be your doctor,” Rebecca said. “But people love you here, Joelle.” It seemed odd to hear the word
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
As she was unlocking the outside door to her condo that evening, Tony, one-half of the gay couple who lived downstairs, poked his head out his front door.
“Joelle!” he said. “Come join us for dinner. We made stuffed portobello mushrooms and we got carried away. There’s more than we can eat.”
“Oh, thanks, Tony.” She smiled at him with a shake of her head. “Not tonight, I’m afraid.”
“Well, we’ll save you some, then,” Tony said, disappearing inside his condo again.
She walked up the stairs and into her own condo, remembering the last time she’d eaten with her neighbors. She’d made a huge pot of fish stew and invited Tony and Gary over to help her eat it. The three of them had stayed up half the night, drinking a little too much and singing oldies off-key. She liked those guys. They were by no means her closest friends, but they had potential. If she were staying in the area, maybe they would have liked being honorary daddies. Maybe even her labor coaches.
