Chapter 189

**Megan**

My doctor read through my medical notes from my hospital admission last weekend. I watch as her face makes all these micro-expressions that she quickly catches hoping I won’t notice. She looks at me and gives me a small smile before closing what’s on her screen and showing me her full attention. 

I decided Sara was right. I needed to get all of the information so that when I tell Logan, I can give him the facts also. 

When I walked into the doctor’s office, I’d never been so nervous. Even now, I can feel my fear clawing at me, telling me all of the negative things I’m going to hear. The room doesn’t help; it’s so sterile with its stark white walls and white marble effect floor. Coupled with the smell of bleach and cold atmosphere, I wish I had Logan here. He’d be able to give me the strength to push my fear down. To reassure me that there’s a way through this, but he’s not here, and that’s my own doing. 

“Ok, first things first, how are you feeling?” 

“Scared,” I honestly say to her. She nods and tilts her head. 

“Well the good news is that you’ve found out early, so you have time to gather your thoughts and make a decision. From what I’ve read, it’s not all doom and gloom. If you are deciding to go through with the pregnancy, we will have to monitor you and baby very closely. I suggest having scans every two weeks to make sure everything is ok,”

“Did you have a scan at the hospital?” she asks. 

“No,” 

“Ok, well we can do one today,”

“Is keeping the baby an option?” I ask. 

“Yes, the problem we have is the weakening of the womb as the baby grows, if you can get to 25 weeks then there is a large possibility of you and baby surviving, you would have to go on bed rest at some point, it will depend on the size or the baby. It’s going to be difficult, I’m not going to lie to you, but I honestly believe you could do this,” 

“And if I can’t.” 

“There is a possibility of early labour which would result in loss of the baby,” I feel like there’s more to her sentence.

“And?” I ask. 

“And possible further damage. There are risks to this pregnancy to both you and baby; there’s all the normal risks plus possible risks to you,”

“Great,” I say. 

“That is why I would advise regular visits and regular scans, we don’t know how big or small baby is going to be, if it is small there’s a lower risk of early labour or really early labour, the mark is 25/26 weeks.” 

“Then what?” 

“It would be a waiting game,” 

“Ok

“The other option is abortion, you take a small pill, and the embryo will die, you may experience some discomfort and mild bleeding, if you leave it longer it’s more traumatic, I wouldn’t advise leaving it longer than ten weeks,” she explains. 

“Ok,” is all I say and look at the bed that’s in the middle of the room. 

“Shall we do a scan?” she asks. 

“Err sure,” I say.

“Ok lie down on the bed for me and lift your top. I do as she says. Then there’s a knock at the door. *One minute,” 

“She pulls the curtain around a little and goes to answer the door. 

Each day I tell myself to tell him, but no words come to mind when I’m sitting in a room with him. Last night I went to bed early, ever since everything with Jonathon I’ve been sleeping in his bed. I lay with my back to him, and I try to tell myself that I could say it to him now. I could just say the words, but in the end, I just cry and wait for him to fall asleep. It doesn’t help that he’s become really snappy towards me. He just gets angry so easily alately and I dont’ know why. 

The door opens again, and my doctor pops her head around. 

“There's a man here, he says he’s the father,” my eyes widen. 

“What?”

“He said his name is Carl, can I let him in?” she asks. I sigh in relief and nod.

He must have followed me. He did that the other day, I’d only gone to my mothers grave, but he followed me. I stayed for a couple of hours, explaining to her what I’m going through. I know it’s pointless, it’s not like she can hear me or knows. She’s dead. I just feel better doing it. Sometimes I can imagine what she’d say to me. 

Carl walks in and looks at me. 

“I’ll give you two a minute,” the doctor says. I slowly sit up and pull my top down. 

“What the hell?” he asks.

“Why are you following me?”

“Are you here to have an abortion?” 

“No, I wanted to get some information,” I say a little offended he would think I’d be so sly. 

“Oh, ok, good,” he says and scratches his head. “I kind of thought you were,” 

“No, I’m scared, and I just needed to know more details,” He sighs and places his hand in mine to then move forward and hug me. “You told them you’re the dad?” I ask. 

“They wouldn’t have let me in otherwise,” 

Then I hear a knock, and the door opens a little. Carl pulls away from me and stands next to the bed. The doctor gives me a small smile and begins to get everything ready for the scan. 

After a couple of minutes of the doctor rolling some sort of handle thing over my stomach, I hear a high-speed thumping noise. She looks at me and gives me a small smile to then turn the screen towards me. I look at the screen, and she points to a black oval with a white blob-like shape inside it. 

“There’s your baby,” she says, looking at both Carl and me. I frown, “the noise you can hear is the heartbeat,” she adds. I feel my eyes well up a little, I try to blink them dry, but it’s a bit difficult. Carl moves his hand into mine and gives it a small squeeze. 

“Wow,” my voice cracks a little. 

“Yeah,” Carl says in amazement. 

“Good news it’s not twins,”

“Twins?” I ask. 

“We can usually tell around this time, if it were twins we would have to go down the abortion route, there would be just no chance of them surviving,” she states. I nod and look back at the screen. 

“It doesn’t look like a baby?” I say. 

“It looks like an alien,” Carl says, making both me and the doctor laugh. 

“Let’s hope it’s not an alien. No, the brain is developing now, and it’s only about 10mm long,” she says, moving the stick thing a little. The image moves too, and it looks a bit bigger. 

“Oh, ok,” 

“Are you ok?” Carl asks. I look at him to see his eyes are watering. I smile. 

“Yeah,” I say, and he hugs me. The doctor wipes the clear gel from my stomach and moves away from me. 

Carl and I both sit back in the chairs available, and the doctor hands me a picture of my scan. I feel myself smile a little at the black and white image. There’s actually a chance of this thing surviving. It may be small, but it’s there. 

“Were you ever told what it is that makes it difficult?” the doctor asks.

“Just that I have scarring from the miscarriages,” I say as I still gaze at the picture, I try to look at every detail. 

“There’s a name for it; I’m surprised that they didn’t do anything about it,” 

“What do you mean?” I ask now looking back at her. 

“Well, it’s called Asherman Syndrome, and it’s treatable, all I can think is that the doctor that diagnosed you didn’t know fully about it, which is kind of worrying, I swear they just let anyone be doctors nowadays,” she states. 

“What do you mean, treatable?”

“You can have surgery to remove the scar tissue; it’s a tricky procedure but doable. It depends on the extent of the scarring, but it improves the odds of pregnancy and reduces the risk of further miscarriages or stillbirths,” 

“Can it be treated now?” 

“Unfortunately not while you’re pregnant, but afterwards it can be, there have been many successful pregnancies with people who have this. I can see how scared you are, and in all honesty, I’m highly hopeful of this being very successful. Again it’s your decision if you decide to terminate the pregnancy we can look at having the surgery. We can have the surgery at some point regardless of either decision; it’s all down to how you feel,” she explains to me. 

Carl moves his hand into mine. I look at him to see him looking down at the copy of the scan. He looks towards me and gives me a small smile. 

“This is good news,” Carl says.

“Yeah, it is,” 

“I’ll book you in for a scan in two weeks, keep a diary of your symptoms if you have any concerns don’t hesitate to call and book in,” I nod and stand up. “Will you both be attending?” she asks. 

“No, he’s not the father,” I confess. She frowns at us both. “He’s the father’s friend; I haven’t told the father yet, I wanted to get a better understanding of what I’m looking at first,” 

“That’s a smart idea,” she says and then looks at Carl with a frown. “Don’t lie to my staff again,” I smile and look at him. 

“You wouldn’t have let me in otherwise,” he argues.

“It is not my decision; it is the patients,” and she scowls at him. He looks at me, and I chuckle. “I will see you in two weeks,” she says to me. I thank her and leave.