If I didn’t have a fertility issue, this might be a holy crap moment. But I can’t get pregnant. Todd and I tried—even sought help from Dr. White—but it never happened, for which I’m eternally grateful. We even tried to time it so that we had sex during my ovulation using the cycle-tracking app, until Dr. White told me about my blocked tubes.
I jot down the date on the paper, hoping it’s nothing serious. It’s nice to skip a period or two, but it isn’t exactly normal… Is it? Even though I’m irregular, I always have one at least every six weeks.
I get up and give the questionnaire back to Cassie, who un-pinches it from the clipboard and slips it into my patient folder. I return to my seat and try to stay calm, but find myself tapping the floor with my heel. I think about what happened to Ellie’s mom. She had some irregular bleeding, but I don’t remember her saying that she didn’t have her period at all.
It’s probably not cancer.
Even if it is, we’re catching it so early that I should recover without any problem. There’s no way I’m losing to a tiny cluster of misbehaving cells. It hasn’t had enough time to advance to stage one. Probably still stuck at stage zero-point-five at the most. I’ll be fine.
Cassie smiles at me from her station. “Sierra, Dr. White will see you now.”
Less than fifteen minutes later, I know that my world will never be the same again.
I’m most definitely pregnant.
With triplets.