SWNOVELS Pucking Sweet: Chapter 59
“You wanna say that again?”
My gynecologist smiles, adjusting the vaginal wand with one hand as she points up to the tiny circle in the middle of the black and white monitor. “I said, judging by the size of the embryo, it looks like you’re about six weeks pregnant.”
I lie back, one arm over my head, and stare up at the popcorn ceiling panels. Holy crap. I’m six weeks pregnant? I’ve known for all of two days, and here it’s been half a freaking trimester. My little chaos monster has already seen and done so much. He went sailing, played bingo, sang karaoke, ate bad sushi.
Wait—six weeks?
I grab my phone, and flip through my calendar, counting back the days. “Oh my . . .”
I lie back again. That was the week I was in DC. That was the week the elevator broke.
“Everything okay?” the nurse asks with a kind smile.
I snort, trying to hold in my laugh. “No, I’m fine. It’s just that this baby was either conceived due to a broken condom up against the side of a hotel ice machine…or on the floor of a busted elevator.”
“Oh.” My gynecologist removes the vaginal wand. “Well, that sounds adventurous.”
I nod up at the ceiling. “Yep, that’s me. I’m just one big thrill-seeker.” I push up on my elbows, glancing between them. “Did I mention it was with two different men? Yeah, there’s literally no telling which of them is the culprit. I’d say it was Colton, since Lukas and I used a condom, but I was on the pill. So, it should be neither of them, right? This should be divine conception.”
They both offer me patient smiles.
“Pills aren’t one hundred percent effective,” the doctor cautions. “Especially if you miss any or take them at irregular times—”
“Oh, trust me, I know. I’ve watched literally every romcom ever created. And I’ve read about a thousand more. I know how this works, doc.”
She pushes back in her wheelie chair. “Well, it was a bit too early to see any cardiac activity this time. But everything looks like it’s going very well.”
I nod, sitting up.
“We’ll be sending you home with the sonogram images today. And I want you to get with Shelia to book an appointment to return in another few weeks, okay?”
I nod again. “Yep.”
“For now, I want you to just take it easy,” she adds, patting my knee. “Rest as much as you can. Relax, and just let your body adjust to its strange new reality.”
I fight another laugh. Rest? Relax?
When?
This is possibly the most stressed I’ve ever been. As I was lying here, I’ve missed eight calls and gotten eleven texts. I’m in the middle of this Rachel Price media storm, I’m trying to navigate a major pet adoption promo, and I still have reporters calling me about the damaged freaking sand dune.
Not to mention we have another home game tonight. I only just slipped away from the office before I have to be over to the arena to meet with the Finnish Olympic scouts. They’re still in town to watch Kinnunen play again, and I’m supposed to entertain them. Have you ever tried to entertain members of the Finnish Ice Hockey Association? I mean, really, where is Lemon when you need her?
By the time I’m dressed back in my teal sheath dress and strappy black heels, the nurse practitioner knocks and steps back in the room. “Here’s that sonogram printout for you.” She hands me a thin strip of photo booth-style images. “Baby is the size of a lentil,” she chimes.
I take the photo strip from her, staring down at the top one that has a little white arrow pointing to my occupied embryonic sac. A lentil. That seems a lot nicer than calling him my chaos monster. “Well, Lentil? Any clever ideas? How the heck are we gonna tell your daddies?”