The Cliff House. RaeAnne Thayne

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       6

      STELLA

      “It is one hundred percent official. You are pregnant, my dear.”

      Stella gazed at her friend and longtime OB-GYN, still reeling from the shock of it. “You’re sure?”

      “The numbers don’t lie, honey. Congratulations.”

      She smiled at Jo, who had held her hand through the entire process of fertility treatments. “I feel like you did half of the work. Shouldn’t you be passing out cigars right about now?”

      “I’m afraid it doesn’t quite work that way. You get to do all the work from here on out, until the last bit.”

      She wasn’t going to stress about that part until she had to. “I don’t know how to thank you. Seriously. You’ve been amazing.”

      “Everything looks good so far. I would say, considering the date of your last insemination, that puts you at approximately six weeks along—assuming you haven’t been finding a little action on the side, anyway.”

      “No action here, except you and your turkey baster, which I’m sure doesn’t surprise you. It’s all you, Jo.”

      “Well, I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

      “I don’t know how to thank you. It’s amazing.”

      “Don’t thank me yet. We have a few weeks to go.”

      Six weeks down, approximately thirty-four to go. She couldn’t quite believe this was happening. She would be holding her own baby in just a little over eight months.

      “Do you have any questions or concerns for me?”

      “That depends. How much time do you have?”

      Jo laughed. “I can give you another fifteen minutes. If you have more than that, we’ll have to meet for lunch next week.”

      “Fifteen minutes will at least get us started.”

      The truth was, Stella had been dreaming of this day for so long, visualizing what it would be like to be right here, finding out positive news from her doctor, that she had already researched everything she might have wanted to know. She had just about memorized the stages of fetal development, what symptoms she might be experiencing at each stage of the pregnancy and any concerns she should be watching for.

      All that and much, much more was available with the click of a keyboard. Seriously, how had women survived all the questions of pregnancy before the internet?

      She knew the answer. They had a village. Mothers, sisters, grandmothers, friends. She had that, too, and was deeply grateful.

      They talked about a few of her symptoms—the breast tenderness, the sleepiness, the hints of nausea she’d been feeling throughout the day.

      “That might get worse before it gets better,” Jo warned. “Make sure you let me know if it becomes more than you can handle.”

      She knew as a woman past forty—barely!—she would face additional challenges and was completely confident in Jo, grateful she would have a friend and solid partner in this whole baby business.

      “If that’s it for now,” her doctor said, “I’d like to see you again in my office in two weeks. Be warned, I’m going to be following you more frequently than most first-time moms. Because of your age, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy, which means we’ll become even better friends before we’re done here.”

      “Sounds great to me.”

      “Go ahead and get dressed and the nurse will be in with the bundle of information we give to all first-time expectant mothers.”

      She was an expectant mother. It still didn’t seem real.

      “Thank you.”

      “I’m so thrilled for you, Stella. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

      She wasn’t at all convinced of that. She was fairly certain self-doubt would be more of an issue throughout the pregnancy than anything else. She was in it now, though. Like every other mother, she imagined, she would have to figure things out as she went along.

      The nurse, Katie Frye, had been Stella’s student years ago. She knocked just as Stella finished dressing. “Come in,” she called.

      Katie marched through the door carrying a large cotton tote with flowers on it. “Here you go. This is the swag bag we give to all new prenatal patients. There are samples, coupons, leaflets and a nice pregnancy journal, as well as a book we give expectant moms. You might find it answers your most common questions. Read through it when you can. And congrats, Mama.”

      Her stomach, which hadn’t felt the most stable all day, seemed to twist at the words.

      “Remember, you can call us any day or night,” Katie went on. “Now, make sure you stop at the reception desk to set up your next appointment.”

      “I will. Thank you.”

      When she walked out to the luxuriously appointed reception area, she saw a couple of women she knew, including one who was a notorious gossip. She waved, grateful the swag bag was somewhat discreet and didn’t scream Baby Mama on it. She wasn’t ready for the whole world to know yet. She didn’t even know when she wanted to tell Daisy and Bea.

      After making the appointment with the receptionist—another of her old students—she was entering the info into her phone’s calendar when the door behind her opened. She couldn’t see who it was, but she felt a collective burst of energy ripple through the room as if every woman had suddenly put her hormones on notice.

      With a growing sense of dread, she turned around and, as she feared, discovered Dr. Ed Clayton walking through the front door, accompanied by a gamine young girl with brown hair and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

      His face lit up when he spotted her. “Stella! Hi. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

      Of all the OB-GYN offices in all the cities along the coast, he had to walk into hers.

      “I told you Jo was my doctor.” She held up the bag of swag. “First appointment.”

      How was it possible that Ed Clayton was the only other person besides Jo and Katie who knew about her pregnancy? That was just as unreal as the pregnancy itself.

      “I hope all went well.”