Page 95 of Sugar & Shadows

I looked at her, blinking, not following.

She held up a weird-looking wand that was encased in a giant condom.

My heart lurched. “You stick that…”

She nodded. “It’s the fastest and most accurate way.”

Closing my eyes, I willed myself to make peace with this total humiliation. With a sigh, I nodded. Fuck it. I was here and I was in the damn gown already. I might as well do all the tests.

After an uncomfortable moment with the wand, she clicked the mouse attached to the machine beside the table, then shifted and did it again, rearranging my lady parts with that ridiculous tool.

I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. This was not at all how I’d seen this appointment going.

“Okay,” she said, guiding the wand around again.

“This.” She pointed at the screen. “Is your right ovary. And here’s the left.” She adjusted the wand, the movement making me flinch.

It wasn’t painful, just invasive.

“You’re doing great,” she soothed.

Ha. That’s not the word I would have chosen.

“And this is the uterus.”

While she clicked and adjusted, taking measurements, I stared at the ceiling above, counting the tiles like the task could anchor me to some sense of normalcy.

My phone buzzed in my bag. It was probably Harper and probably urgent. But right now I just wanted to go to bed and forget about this entire experience.

“Okay,” the doctor said in the gentlest voice. “See this?”

I shifted, forcing myself to look at the screen. All I saw were shades of gray. Some spots formed blobs and some formed streaks. Strange shadows and textures. This was inside my body? It wasn’t anything I recognized.

She pointed to a weird comma-shaped blob. “Right here.”

In the middle of it, the screen flickered subtly.

“That’s cardiac activity,” she said. “A heartbeat.”

My body locked up and my head spun. I closed my eyes, so damn confused. “What?” I croaked, my voice scratchy and thin.

“This is the embryo,” she said, adjusting the wand again. “It’s tiny right now, probably the size of a pea. But that flicker is the heart beating.”

I stared at the screen. All I saw were the blobs and streaks and endless gray.

Not a baby. Not even close.

But the flicker persisted. Steady and relentless. Was there really a tiny heart beating inside me?

Quietly, she continued clicking away.

“I’m taking measurements,” she eventually said. “Everything looks consistent for early pregnancy.”

Early pregnancy?

For a moment, I was sure my soul left me. Like an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet. But then sensation flooded back in, my throat tight and my racing heart pounding in my ears.

Just my heart. And the tiny, steady one I was staring at on the screen.