My four month appointment with Dr. Friedman was on a freezing cold day in January. I put on my warmest sweater and my coat and took the subway. Dimitri had taken our car to work.
Arriving at the crowded waiting room, I signed the register and found a seat in the room filled with women and their protruding bellies. My own waist had only begun to thicken. I knew I'd soon have to start wearing the maternity clothes I'd bought when I'd gone shopping with Mom.
I found I was sitting beside a brunette who looked like she was almost ready to deliver. She smiled as I sat down.
"Is this your first?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied. "Is it the first for you, too?"
"Oh, no. This one's my third. I already have two boys. I told my husband, if this one's a girl, I'm getting my tubes tied after she's born."
"And what if it's a boy?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh dear God, no!"
"You must be pretty close to your due date," I remarked.
"Not really," she replied. "I'm only six months along."
Wow! I thought to myself. Are there twins in there?
She was called back then, and I picked up a magazine and leafed through it until I heard my own name being called.
The nurse weighed me and collected a urine sample, then led me down the hallway to the familiar examining room to await the arrival of Dr. Friedman. He showed up about fifteen minutes later. First, he checked the baby's heartbeat with his Doppler.
"Nice and strong," he told me. "So far, everything seems to be right on schedule. Do you have any questions for me?"
"My husband is flying to California to make a movie next month," I told him. "It will mean a lot to me if I can go with him. Will that be all right?"
"As long as you don't have any complications between now and then, I don't see why not," he said. "Just be sure and stay near a hospital in case of emergency."
"Oh, thank you!" I cried. I couldn't wait to tell Dimitri the good news.