Page 161 of Diego

Shapes. Gray and black. Something small tucked within a dark space that means nothing to me until Dr. Mehta points toward it.

“That is the pregnancy,” she says. “And right here is the embryo.”

Blair’s lips part.

I stare at the screen.

“Is there…” I cannot finish the question in one go. “Is there a heartbeat?”

Dr. Mehta changes something on the machine.

A rapid flicker appears.

“That is cardiac activity.”

For several seconds, I cannot move.

Blair lets out a sob beside me and covers her mouth with her free hand. Tears spill immediately, but they are different now. I bend over our joined hands and press my forehead against hers because my legs suddenly feel less steady than they did when I came through the door.

“The baby is alive?” Blair whispers.

“Yes,” Dr. Mehta says. “Right now, the pregnancy is viable. The measurements are consistent with where you should be, and I am seeing cardiac activity that is reassuring.”

Blair starts crying again, and I kiss her temple, her hair, anywhere I can reach without letting go of her hand. “You hear that, cara?”

She nods hard. “Yes.”

I close my eyes for one second.

The word I would not let myself think finally loses some of its grip on me.

Then Dr. Mehta speaks again. “I also see where the bleeding is coming from.”

Blair stiffens.

I look back at the monitor.

Dr. Mehta points to a dark crescent along one side of the gestational sac. “You have what is called a subchorionic hematoma. It is a collection of blood between the pregnancy membranes and the uterine wall. This one is large enough to explain the amount of bleeding you had today and the cramping you have been feeling.”

Blair looks from the screen to her. “Is it hurting the baby?”

“Right now, I am not seeing evidence that the baby is in distress.” Dr. Mehta keeps her tone careful and composed. “The heartbeat is present, the pregnancy is measuring appropriately, and the cervix is closed. Those are all reassuring findings. A subchorionic hematoma can cause a very frightening amount of bleeding and still resolve without causing a pregnancy loss.”

I hear the phrase pregnancy loss and feel Blair’s fingers tighten again.

Dr. Mehta continues before either of us can spiral. “I do need you to understand that I cannot promise you there is zero risk. I would never tell you that. What I can tell you is that nothing on this ultrasound tells me you are losing this pregnancy right now.”

Blair’s eyes close, and another tear slides down the side of her face.

I look at the dark area on the screen.

“How did this happen?” Blair asks. “I’ve been working so much. I haven’t been eating right. I’ve been stressed and running around all over the city, and then today I—”

“No.” Dr. Mehta’s voice is sharp enough to stop her in her tracks. “There is no indication that you caused this. I want you to hear that clearly.”

She thought she caused it. My heart tightens at the hurt on her face.

“We often do not know exactly why these form,” Dr. Mehta says. “They can happen when a small area of the chorionic membrane separates from the uterine wall, and blood collects there. Blair, you did not cause this by working, walking, shopping, eating the wrong thing, or being stressed.”