Page 45 of Living for Truth (Broken Shelves #2)

Hannah

O ne week later, we’re back in Dr. Badar’s exam room, waiting to discuss the test results.

I’ve been a mess the entire week. I haven’t slept well, I’ve been getting more nauseous, and the foods I love are slowly starting to repulse me. My breasts hurt all the time, and I’m uncomfortably bloated.

Ten weeks is about the time the babies stopped growing during my previous pregnancies, so when I’d go in for my twelve week ultrasounds, there was no heartbeat.

Except for one instance when I made it thirteen weeks—that one was the hardest because we had made so many plans.

I’m scared she’ll tell us there are no heartbeats today.

Dr. Badar knocks on the door and waits for my confirmation to come in.

“Good morning, Hannah. How are you feeling today? Any new symptoms?”

I shake my head. “Just some nausea and craving a lot of salty snacks.”

“That’s totally normal. With your increase in blood volume it can make you crave salt, so as long as you’re drinking plenty of water you should be fine.”

She sits down on a rolling chair and types away on her computer. “Now, we got your test results in. Your hCG levels are perfect, blood cell counts all look good, and we have the sex of the babies if you want to know.”

“I think I’d like to know the results of the other test first. And make sure the babies are okay before I get too attached,” I say quietly, and Dr. Badar nods understandingly.

“Well, your AMH test came back looking perfect as well. Your eggs are healthy and viable, and your reserve is standard for someone your age. Now,” she turns to Morgan, “were you the provider of the sperm for her previous pregnancies?”

Morgan shakes his head.

“Okay,” she twists her lips, “I wanted to take a sperm sample to test the vitality of sperm, but if that wasn’t you, it wouldn’t be conclusive for the past pregnancies.

Sometimes the sperm aren’t viable or strong enough to help the embryo grow past a certain point.

My guess is, since your blood tests came back normal, there’s some sort of medical condition with whomever you were conceiving with previously.

There’s no way to tell unless I do a sperm test on them, but it’s highly probable. ”

“So what you’re saying,” Morgan interjects, “is Hannah’s not the problem?”

“Like I said, I can’t confirm it without running tests on the other party, but with the test results we have, it doesn’t seem like there’s any overlying issue with Hannah.”

There’s some sort of medical condition with whomever you were conceiving with previously.

I know she said it can’t be determined for sure unless she tests Liam, but it stands to reason that if my blood tests came back normal, then I’m not the problem.

Morgan holds my hand while Dr. Badar lifts my shirt and squeezes gel onto my stomach. She turns on the machine and starts pushing on my belly looking for the strawberry-sized babies.

Her silence is deafening, and I’m steeling myself for the terrible news, when two little tadpole-esque blobs wiggle on the screen.

“There they are! Let’s check their heart rates…” She turns the sound up, and two distinct heartbeats fill the room, and hope inflates my chest. “Perfect. They sound amazing and are measuring right on track.”

“Do you think I’ll still miscarry?” I ask quietly.

“There’s still that possibility, but since all of your tests look good and the heartbeats are within a healthy range, I would say the chances are low.

If it would make you feel better to come in again in two weeks instead of the standard four, we can make that happen.

We want to ease your stress as much as possible. ”

“I think that would make me feel better.”

“Great! I know it’s tempting to get a fetal doppler so you can hear the heartbeats yourself between appointments, but the FDA discourages it because of the risks it can cause to both mom and baby.

” Dr. Badar wipes the excess goop off my belly and helps me sit up, handing me the black and white pictures of our babies.

“Would you like to know the sexes of the babies?” she asks, pulling up her laptop.

I look over at Morgan, who shrugs, clearly letting me lead.

“I… yes. I think I would like to know.”

“You will be having two little girls! If the blood tests had come back with ‘Y’ chromosomes, we wouldn’t be able to tell both genders, but since there was no trace of male DNA, we can confidently say you are having two girls.”

Two girls.

Two.

Girls.

I’m going to be a mom.

When we get to the car, the dam breaks, and I start sobbing. Morgan holds my hand and lets me sob until I’m ready to talk, and once I’ve calmed down enough, I rant.

“The entire time, Liam blamed me for losing our babies.

He made me feel worthless and useless and like I was broken, when the whole fucking time it was most likely him?

! I wanted to go get tested. I wanted him to get tested, too, so we could cover our bases, but he ignored the request because he refused to think he could ever be a problem.

“My mom, his mom, and other people at church heavily implied I wasn’t worthy enough to have a baby and made my miscarriages out to be a ‘lesson from God.’ I was suffering so badly, and no one ever checked on me to make sure I was okay.

Everyone just expected me to grin and bear it and move on like I didn't lose a part of myself with each baby. It’s not fair I was ignored and blamed for something that could have been easily diagnosed.

And now, I’m going to be anxious for the rest of this pregnancy—however long it lasts—because I’m so fucking traumatized!

It’s not fair!” My voice breaks on a sob, and I take a calming breath before I continue.

“I never knew the sex of the babies before. I never wanted to know. But now I know I have two little girls growing inside me, and there’s still a chance I could lose them. Knowing will make it so much harder. I want to be positive and hopeful, but it’s so hard to do that right now.”

It feels good to get that off my chest. It feels good to be able to confide in Morgan and not worry he’s going to call me overly dramatic and chastise me for being negative.

“It’s not fair you went through that and went through it pretty much alone.

You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you.

But you won’t be alone if it happens again.

We will get through this together, and I’ll follow your lead with everything.

If I need to call Dr. Badar and tell her we’re coming in every day to check the heartbeats, I will.

We are a team, ” Morgan vows, and I love him all the more for it.

“I want to tell Aly as soon as you’re ready to. I want her to know in case something happens, so she doesn’t feel like we kept a secret from her. Then, I would like to tell your family if that’s okay? I think that having their support would be helpful.”

“Anything, Butterfly. Anything for you. Anything for Aly. Anything for our girls. I just have one thing I want from you.”

“What?”

“Marry me.”

“Wh-what?” Surely, I heard him wrong.

“Marry me. Tomorrow, in a week, in a month, in three years, I don’t care, but I want you to be my wife, my true partner. Aly already told me I should have proposed by now, but I don’t have a ring—”

“Yes,” I interrupt. “I don’t care about a ring. I want to be your wife.”

Morgan kisses me, and it’s a little awkward over the console in the car.

When I pictured him proposing—and I have—I didn’t picture it in the parking lot of an OBGYN office, but I don’t care. I don’t need a big proposal from him, knowing he wants to be with me forever is enough.

“I love you so much, Hannah. Whatever we go through, we’ll go through it together.”

“I love you, too. I’m glad you’re the one I'm on this journey with.”