Fair Lakes Series Box Set - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,92

from the hallway that leads to the patient rooms. Great, it’s Nurse McFlirts-A-Lot, the flirty nurse turned regular at All Fit. I can feel the flush sweep up my cheeks, and I just pray I have enough control over my tongue.

“Let’s get you weighed in,” she suggests, pointing to the horrible machine that’s going to tell me I’ve eaten too many things in the non-salad variety.

I step up on the scale, pleasantly surprised to see only a half-pound weight gain since last week’s appointment. I’ll call that progress. I head off to the bathroom to complete the next phase of the appointment, knowing full well the result will show a trace of sugars. They all have since my diagnosis. The key has been the stupid exercise plan my sadistic husband put me on, coupled with a healthier diet. I do admit I’ve felt good these last few months, but personally, I’m ready to be able to eat peanut M&M’s and Dairy Queen Blizzards again.

The nurse places the blood pressure cuff on my arm and starts to squeeze. She slowly lets it out, her eyes on the little ticker. “Uh-oh,” she mumbles.

“What?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and lie back for a few minutes. Relax,” she says calmly, making me anything but.

“Why?”

“Well, your blood pressure is a little high.”

“How high?”

“One sixty over one hundred,” she says, placing her index and middle finger on my pulse point on my wrist. “Relax.”

Right.

No one in the history of pregnant women has ever relaxed just because someone told them to. Ever.

Nurse Flirty waits a few minutes and takes my blood pressure a second time. The results must not be what she wanted because of the face she makes. She quickly writes down a few notes in my chart, hands me a gown to change into, and makes a quick exit, informing me the doctor would be in shortly.

Shortly is actually only a couple of minutes.

“Gwen?” Dr. Taylor asks as she enters the room. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I tell her, slightly annoyed she’d ask such a dumb question. I mean, can’t she tell how I’m doing? I’m thirty-nine weeks pregnant, have gained five hundred and ten pounds, and my husband slash ex-husband slash fiancé isn’t here. Why would I be anything other than fine?

She takes a seat. “Well, your blood pressure’s a tad on the high side.”

“I’ve been having those Braxton Hicks contractions all day,” I inform her, placing my hands on my abdomen.

“That’s a good sign, if not a little on the annoying side,” she says with a smile.

“No kidding. I get up fourteen times a night to pee, so sleeping isn’t going so great at the moment.”

She gives me a knowing grin. “They say that’s God’s way of preparing you for the sleepless nights you’re about to endure when the baby arrives, but I say that’s just cruel and unusual punishment. At least let the moms-to-be sleep the few weeks they have left before the baby comes. But the good news is you’re in the home stretch. We’ll measure your abdomen and check her heartbeat. Have you been feeling her kick ten times by noon?”

“Are you kidding me? She’s practicing for her career as a professional soccer player in there,” I reply with a laugh.

Dr. Taylor joins in my laughter. “Well, that’s a good sign.” She does her thing, taking the appropriate measurements, and uses the Doppler to listen to Sophia’s heartbeat. “This is one of the last times you’ll hear it with this device. Soon, you’ll have her in your arms,” she says as she helps me clean up the gel. I watch as she grabs the blood pressure cuff once more and places it around my arm. She pulls out her stethoscope and squeezes the bulb, paying close attention to the reading. “Well, it’s down a little, but it still concerns me. If you start to feel lightheaded or not right, I want you to go to labor and delivery. Where’s Harrison?”

“Oh… he… well, something came up.” Tears burn my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall now. I’m terrified that if they start, I won’t be able to stop them.

She nods. “Well, I want you to have him drive you to the hospital if you don’t feel right. High blood pressure at this point in your pregnancy isn’t a good sign, especially with gestational diabetes. It could be a sign of gestational hypertension or preeclampsia. I want to be proactive, all right? I’d like you to stop