Sunday, November 11, 2012
CLARE: Alba convinced me to take her along with me to the doctor's office today. After I picked her up from her sleepover, she bugged me for three hours straight. Since I really didn't have an argument against it, I caved.
I make grilled cheese, listening to the crackling sound the pan makes when I agitate it. Alba swings her legs beneath her as she waits patiently. When I finish, she eats her sandwich in a few quick bites, then grabs her coat to leave. I roll my eyes and follow.
We arrive at the office with 10 minutes to spare. Alba links her fingers in mine and we stroll to the elevator to take us up to Amit's office. There is a small waiting room that we enter which contains a cute reception desk. A blonde secretary sits at the desk, typing monotonously on her Dell computer. She looks up when she sees us and smiles kindly in our direction. She stops her typing and reaches for a blank clipboard.
"Good afternoon," she greets us. "I'm guessing you're Mrs. DeTamble?"
"That's me," I reply.
"If you could just sign in here," she says as she points to the empty clipboard, "I'll let Mrs. Montague know that you're here." I grab the pen and scribble my initials across the page. She takes it back from me and flips through a stack of papers in a file. I assume what is my file. The receptionist chooses one and pulls it away from the rest. She scrawls something at the bottom, and then reaches for the intercom on her desk phone. "Mrs. Montague, Mrs. DeTamble is here to see you."
It takes a few seconds before we hear the scratchy reply from the other end say, "Thank you, Mrs. Strafford. Send her in, will you?" She nods at the door behind her and I lead Alba through it. When I enter, Amit is bending over a tiny counter, reading something. She looks up from her work and her face lights up. She runs over and embraces me in a tight hug. "Oh, how good it is to see you again, Clare! How have you been? And, Alba! Look at how you've grown!"
Alba smiles politely and holds out her hand for a handshake. "I've been holding up. Same old, same old, really. How about you?" I inquire.
She rolls her eyes and says, "Me? Silly, old me? Well, I've been okay, too, I guess." She takes a deep breath. "We should get working. Shall we?" She gestures toward a plastic, doctor's bed for me to lie on. I nod and stroll over to it, whispering to Alba to sit in the chair across the room. "Let's start with the usual interview," she starts, pulling out a notepad and a ballpoint pen. "Any nausea and vomiting?"
I nod, and scribbles something. "Frequent urination?"
"Yes."
"Food cravings?"
"Yes." She continued a long list of things that all had the same answer. After a while, she didn't even bother to write anything down. I glance at Alba to see if she feels uncomfortable, but she is no longer sitting in the chair I left her in. "Alba?" I call.
"Oh, she disappeared awhile ago," Amit answers for her. My stomach ties itself in an uncontrolled knot.
"Oh, okay," I stammer.
"How about we start the ultrasound?"
"Sure." She leaves the room quietly and returns with the proper equipment. I didn't remember what it was called, but this machine looked a lot smaller and more advanced than the last one that I used. It still had the same general attachments though.
Amit pulled out the transducer from within a cabinet along with a bottle of gel. Without instruction, I raise my shirt above my growing abdomen, and she applies it. It is cold, and it sends a shiver down my spine, followed by goose bumps. "When was the last time you urinated?"
"Three hours ago, maybe longer. Why?"
"It's important that you have a full bladder to continue with this procedure. You should be fine." She boots up the machine and it hums away. Routinely, she slid on a pair of latex gloves. A fuzzy image appears on the monitor, but it seems faintly clearer than I remember. Amit starts to gently twirl the transducer across my stomach, allowing a blurred figure to appear on the screen. "Sorry about the cold, dear. This should only take a minute." She looks at the image and squints her beady eyes. Then, she smiles. "Look there."
I follow her finger to a little shape that I can't make out on my own. I tilt my head to the side and squint my eyes. She giggles and my reaction, then she stops and takes a closer look at the screen. "Hmm, that's interesting…"
"What? What's interesting? Is everything alright?" I start to panic.
"Did you say that you were having morning sickness?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"Hmm…" She continues to stare at the monitor, ignoring my inquiry. "When did you say the day of conception was?"
"I didn't, but I believe it was September 16th."
"Hmm, you baby should have grown considerably more than it has at this point. Do you remember how long your pregnancy was with Alba?"
As if she was summoned by her name, Alba reappears in the room, scrambling around, searching for her clothes. She startles me at first but relief washes through my veins when I am assured that she is safe. I refocus my attention on the task at hand. "Uh, I believe it was a normal length."
"You see this here?" She points at a tiny oval on the panel and traces around it with the tip of her finger. "This is the fetus. At eight weeks, it should be about this big." She makes an oval shape with her hands. "It puzzles me that this baby is growing so much slower than that of a normal one." Amit drums her fingers against the counter as she thinks.
The room is silent as she removes the transducer for my abdomen. The exposed gel feels cold against my skin and I shudder slightly. She smiles and hands me a wet paper towel to wipe it off. I go through the motions of getting ready to leave but my mind is far away. Why would my little Adam be taking so much longer to grow? Is there something wrong with him? I knew the answer to that one; of course not. I'd seen him with my own eyes! He was perfectly fine! Why am I worrying myself? I sigh to myself and I feel Alba intertwine her fingers in mine.
"It was great to see you again, baby," Amit says from somewhere behind me. I pull myself out of my imagination and grin at her.
"Yes, you too. I've missed you. Can we set up another appointment?" I ask.
"Of course. You must give me some time to do some research though. I'm curious about your peculiar situation. When are you free?" She strolls to a clipboard that is mounted on the wall. Absentmindedly, she licks her finger and flips through a few pages.
"I have very flexible hours. Anytime is good for me, but what about you? Are you fairly booked up?"
"Don't worry about that, Claire. I can always make time for you," she assures me.
"How about I call you sometime this week?"
"Whatever works for you, dear."
"Goodbye, Amit." I turn back into the waiting area and pay my co-pay for the visit. I thank the secretary again and take Alba back to the car.
All of the sudden, I get an aching feeling in the pit of my stomach when the thought of Henry crosses my mind. He was always there when I needed someone to confide in, someone to dump my worries and complaints on. He never complained about my troubles, just accepted me for who I was, and reassured me that everything would always be okay. And now, when I did need him, he was jumping between decades, fraternizing with the time space continuum and living else when with a younger, happier Claire.