Second Chances

The brown seat that she was sitting in was cold and more than a little uncomfortable. The dark lighting of the waiting room was not much better, and whatever talk show was playing quietly on the television did not seem interesting in the least. Angie Hartwell was a very busy woman who just moved to Delaware from Los Angeles. The difference in the states of California and Delaware were like night and day. In California, there was always something to do at night, but in the first state, it seemed like the nightlife stopped around one in the morning. Not that Angie had any immediate plans to party or hang out, but it just seemed calmer in her new state. After the way things ended in Los Angeles, she felt that a calmer environment would be good for her. She thought of the new house she moved in, a three-story old Victorian style house, and knew how lucky she was to jump on the deal when she did. She looked forward to getting to know the neighborhood and her neighbors. There were a million boxes, knick-knacks, and toiletries to unpack, which she did not look forward to. 

  "Mrs. Hartwell?" the young and pretty nurse called from the desk.

  "Just Ms. Hartwell," Angie said. She saw the girl look her up and then down before blushing. At this point, Angie was used to that look when she explained that she was single. 

  "Oh! I am sorry, Ms. Hartwell. The doctor will see you now. Room 12, please." the nurse said as she gestured to the big wooden door.  

  As she went through the door, Angie had a sense of deja vu. Not that she would tell anyone back home, but she had indeed done this before. She remembered the look on her fiancé's face when the doctor told them the bad news. It was the kind of news that breaks someone and makes the next day and the next day just the same. She remembered the feeling of sadness as it bled into everything she saw or thought or dreamed. The feeling was like freezing from the inside out very slowly until there was nothing left; only the icy remains of what could have been. 

   "Hello, Angie, I am Dr. Hopewell." The doctor said as she entered the room with her white coat and her stethoscope. Dr. Hopewell was in her mid-forties, with dark brown hair to her shoulders, and her dark brown skin clashing well with the coat. She wore wire-rimmed red glasses and what looked like a hint of lip gloss and foundation. 

  "Hello, doctor," Angie said as she sat down gently on the stiff, ugly hospital bed. 

  "So, I have your results. So far, we are right on track and no reason to think you are at risk for another hiccup." Dr. Hopewell said with a little smile. The smile did not quite reach her eyes. Given the circumstances, Angie did not think a genuine smile would be achievable. 

  "That is good. So uh, so when should I start taking off of work? I mean, I only just moved here a few months ago, but my boss knew about this before I came here," Angie said, a bit embarrassed.  

  Dr. Hopewell placed a hand on her shoulder. The doctor sat down in one of those black stools that it seemed every office had nowadays. The light hush of the leather, as the doctor sat down, was the only sound in the room beside the incessant ticking of the standard clock on the wall. 

  "It's alright, Angie. After looking at your results, I can say with confidence that this baby will make it," the doctor said reassuringly. 

   Angie swallowed in the back of the throat and looked away for a second. There were so many thoughts that went through her head. She thought about Michael, her fiancé, and the look of resentment in his eyes. After the news that their baby would be stillborn, he kept blaming her for it. Michael did not say he blamed her, but it was there in his words and actions. She remembered trying to reach for his hand in the bed, and he briskly pulled the blanket up to his shoulder. That action seemed so final; that it felt like a giant steel wall was between them instead of a fleece king size blanket. Angie moved out the next week, only leaving his ring and a note saying she was sorry. Months after they broke-up, Angie decided to try again, much to the anger and disappointment. Not that IVF was cheap and not that being a single mother was easy, but she knew she wanted to be a mother. Angie Hartwell knew that even if she had to be extra brave and do this all alone, she was going to make this dream come true.  

   “So, we are still going to monitor you for the next five weeks. Then you will come in for a scheduled induction and C-section. And as for your job, I would probably stop working sometime in the next three weeks. We want to be as careful as possible. Do you have any more concerns or questions?” Dr. Hopewell said. 

  "I know I said I didn't want to know the gender, but I changed my mind. What am I having?" Angie said. 

   "A little girl. You are going to be a mom to a little girl, Angie," said the doctor, and this time her smile reached her eyes. 

  Angie smiled too because Lukas, her first child, had been a boy, and she always wanted a little girl. She wondered what Lukas would have looked like now, a year later. She thought he would have had her eyes along with tight black curls like Michael. Angie knew her little boy would have been perfect and more so would be the best guardian angel to watch over her daughter. She imagined he was smiling down at her telling her she could do this. Angie bit her lip, trying not to cry, as she thought she totally could do this.