Sweet Little Thing(30)

“I have to take my temperature. Mia, this is bad news, don’t you see?” I found the electronic thermometer. I placed one of those disposable plastic thingies over it and shoved the probe under my tongue.

Mia stayed on the table and glared at me. “Calm down!” She tried to whisper but it came out in a low, deep mumble. She sounded like Satan.

I started getting dizzy. The thermometer beeped. My temp was ninety-nine point zero degrees. I had a fever. When I went to dispose of the plastic sheathing, the toxic-waste receptacle wouldn’t open from the foot pedal. I had to use my hand. God, why me? The room began spinning and suddenly all the germs that had ever been exposed in that environment became visible as tiny floating specks on the walls. In my head I was chanting hepatitis, rotavirus, tetanus, psittacosis, influenza, salmonella, cholera, botulism, anthrax.

“I have to get out of here,” I whispered, out of breath.

As soon as I turned around, robot doctor was in my face. “Sit down, Mr. Ryan. Everything is going to be fine.” She was wheeling in the ultrasound machine.

I sat back in a chair and tried to calm my breathing. I looked at Mia; she was shaking her head at me. It wasn’t disappointment on her face—it was anger. Her eyes got smaller and beady and then she growled. I’m not exaggerating; she actually f*cking growled at me.

Her entire stomach moved; something jutted out from one side, pressing against the inside of her belly like a giant alien baby trying to get out. Mia was saying something but I couldn’t hear her, I could only see her mouth moving in slow motion.

I blinked, trying desperately to clear my vision. Dr. Cho began squirting the clear gel on Mia’s stomach. My head felt heavy as I started to sway back and forth. A black haze began filling my vision from the outside in. Mia looked at the doctor and pointed to the tongue depressors on the counter. Dr. Cho handed her one, and then Mia’s chin jutted out, and she flicked her arm back and threw the damn thing right at my face. It hit my nose with a thwack and fell to the floor. Suddenly all my senses were back.

“Breathe!” she yelled.

I gasped for air; my eyes were about to pop out of my head. You would have thought I had just run a marathon by the way I was breathing. I finally calmed and stood up on shaky legs. Dr. Cho still had no expression on her face even though I’d nearly passed out in front of her.

Mia was looking at the monitor. The ultrasound machine was on and squiggly lines were dancing across the screen. Moving sluggishly toward the exam table, I took her hand in mine and began to rub the back of it. We both watched in awe as our baby appeared before our eyes.

When Mia finally looked back at me, I mouthed, “I’m sorry,” but she wasn’t angry anymore, she was touched.

Dr. Cho moved the ultrasound transducer across Mia’s belly and then pointed to the screen. “See here.” When we both nodded enthusiastically, she said, “He’s still breech. That’s his head at the top.”

“He?” Mia and I said in unison.

That has to be the biggest rookie mistake. Blowing it for the first-time parents who want the sex of their child to be a surprise should be illegal. Doctors and technicians should be fined for that. Yeah, I know doctors are only human, but I’m only human too and I was fined for public intoxication. I didn’t hurt anybody; I didn’t spoil one of the only true surprises in life for two excited parents just starting out. I’d entertained people on the corner that night, but still I was arrested and fined.

Dr. Cho looked pale with a greenish tint. Robot doctor finally turned human. That’s what it takes sometimes, a brutally humbling experience. She placed her hand over her mouth as her eyes grew wider with shock.

I guess fining her would be a little extreme. I had a feeling it would be the first and last time she’d burn the turkey.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured through her cupped hand.

I shook my head at her. Mia’s was turned away from me, still gazing at the monitor. I leaned over and noticed that she was crying.

She looked up me and smiled. “I want to name him Allen,” she squeaked as tears dripped from her chin.

I bent and kissed her and then goddammit, I started crying too. “Yes, baby, we can name him Allen.”

That was Mia’s late father’s name. Allen Kelly was a guy I wished I’d known. Every time I was at the café Mia had inherited from him, someone would bring up his name. He was admired in the neighborhood and greatly missed. Known as a truly free spirit who had done right by the people he loved, Allen’s memory would live on in our son. I said the words “our son” to myself as I watched him suck his thumb, cozy and safe inside Mia’s belly.

“So his head is up still?” Mia asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Cho replied simply.

“What does that mean?” I said.

“I don’t deliver breech babies vaginally. It means that Mia will have to have a C-section or find another doctor.”

Mia’s stare was determined. “What about an ECV?” she said as if she were a medical doctor herself.

“What’s an ECV? That sounds dangerous!”

“It’s a procedure to turn the baby and it sounds dangerous because it is. There is a much higher risk with that than scheduling a C-section.”

“I don’t want a C-section.” Mia looked so shattered. “Is there any way he’ll turn on his own?”