At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [85]
In the hallway, the technician immersed herself in paperwork as they passed on their way to the doctor’s private office. As they sat across the desk from the doctor, he showed them the printouts from the sonogram. He walked them through the same descriptions, told them the same things about the amniotic band. He liked to go over things a second time, he said. Most people didn’t really hear him the first time around because of the shock. He emphasized again that the baby was doing well and that he didn’t think the band had attached. This, he said again, was good news. But all Jeremy could think about was the tentacle floating inside his wife, drifting, moving close to the baby, and then veering away. Danger and safety, playing a deadly game of tag. The baby growing, getting larger, crowding the sack. Could the band float freely then?
“I know how hard this is to hear,” the doctor said again.
No, Jeremy thought, he didn’t. It wasn’t his baby, his little girl. His little girl in pigtails and kneeling by a soccer ball was smiling in a picture frame atop the doctor’s desk. His daughter was fine. No, he didn’t know. He couldn’t know.
Outside the office, Lexie broke down again and he held her tightly. They said almost nothing to each other on the ride home, and later Jeremy barely remembered the drive. At home, he went straight to the Internet and searched for information on amniotic band syndrome. He saw pictures of webbed fingers, stunted limbs, missing feet. He was prepared for those; he wasn’t prepared for the facial deformities, abnormalities that made the baby look barely human. He read about spinal and intestinal deformities in those instances where the tentacle attached to the body. He closed the screen, went to the bathroom, and ran cold water over his face. He decided to say nothing to Lexie about what he’d seen.
Lexie had called Doris the moment they got home, and the two of them were now sitting in the living room. Lexie had cried when Doris came to the door, and she cried again later as she sat on the couch. Doris began crying as well, even as she assured Lexie that she was sure the baby would be okay, that there was a reason the Lord had blessed them, that Lexie should continue to have faith. Lexie asked Doris not to tell anyone, and she promised not to. Nor did Jeremy tell his family. He knew how his mother would react, how she would sound on the phone, the regular calls that would follow. But even if his mother believed she’d be supporting Jeremy, to him it would feel the other way around. He couldn’t handle that, couldn’t imagine having to support someone else right now, even his mother. Especially his mother. It was hard enough to support Lexie and keep his own emotions in check. But he had to be strong, for both of them.
Later that night, as he lay in bed with Lexie beside him, he tried to think of anything but the tentacle that was waiting to ensnare the baby.
Three days later, they went in for the level II ultrasound at East Carolina University Medical Center, in Greenville. There was no excitement when they checked in or filled out the forms; in the waiting room, Lexie moved her purse from the end table to her lap and back again. She walked toward the magazine rack and picked one out but didn’t open it once she returned to her seat. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced around the waiting room. She tucked another strand behind her other ear and looked at the clock.
In the preceding days, Jeremy had learned everything he could about amniotic band syndrome, hoping that by understanding it, he would no longer fear it. But the more he learned, the more anxious he felt. At night he tossed and turned, sick not only at the thought that the baby was in danger, but at the knowledge that more than likely this would be the only pregnancy Lexie would ever experience. This pregnancy wasn’t supposed to