She blinked. She opened her mouth and closed it again without saying anything. She back hard in her chair. She blinked.
“Mrs. Jones? Are you feeling okay?”
She blinked hard this time, and her eyes seemed to actually focus on the room around her. “I am so sorry. I don’t think I quite heard that. Would you mind saying it again?”
Dr. Elizabeth Anderson smiled to herself, looking back down to the file. She’d seen this reaction before. It was one of the easier reactions to deal with. Far better than the times when women would attack at her and accuse her of ruining their lives—as if she actually had anything to do with it. But, worse than when the women lit up with joy and declared it the best news they had ever heard. It really was a diagnosis that ran all along the spectrum.
“Mrs. Jones. The blood work has come back, and the pregnancy test was positive. You are pregnant.” She held out the sheet for the woman to see, even those most of the page would be Greek to the layman. Mrs. Jones blinked again, and Dr. Anderson wondered how many times she was going to have to repeat this, when a smile grew across Mrs. Jones’ face.
“That is great news,” she said calmly, but smiling from ear to ear. “Could you write that down, please? Sign it for me. I feel my husband is going to be even harder to convince it’s actually true, and a note from you would go a long way.”
“Of course,” Dr. Anderson smiled, “But before you leave we have just a few things to go over…”
Dr. Anderson slipped into her office and let out a long breath.
“How did it go, Lizzie?” Dr. Margaret Cooper, her officemate, asked. “Was she a jumping for joy one? Because I don’t think she’d be an attack you for the news kind of woman.”
“Not Jumping for joy, but a repeat it three times until it sinks in. But she left with a smile and half-formed ideas of how she was going to surprise her husband, so I think it will all work out.” Lizzie sank down in her chair, and rubbed at the back of her neck.
“That’s good. She’s a sweet woman. She deserves to be happy.” Margaret watched Lizzie carefully, an eyebrow raised, “Have you decided how you’re going to tell your boy yet?”
Almost subconsciously, Lizzie’s hand went to her still flat stomach, before returning to the paper work on her desk. “I really wish you wouldn’t call him ‘my boy.’ It makes me feel like I’m dating a child.”
Margaret laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. Have you decided how you are going to tell your partner yet?”
She tried not to betray her nervousness as she smiled. “Not yet, Margaret. I want to make sure it’s a good plan. It’s my first kid you know.”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “Very well, but if you don’t tell him soon, he’ll be able to see it with his own two eyes. I feel like you might start showing any day now, you’re leaving it so late.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” she protested weakly. But Margaret was right. Lizzie had known too long not to tell her boyfriend that she was pregnant. But every time she tried, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. After all, it was the kind of news that always brought very different reactions.