I nodded.
“I’m Dr. Elena Navarro.”
Unlike everyone else, she had no history with me. No memories. No complicated emotions.
And in that moment, that felt like a gift.
She reviewed my chart quickly before looking up.
“Your baby’s heart rate looks excellent,” she said. “You’re progressing well. However, we found a previous note mentioning possible placenta accreta.”
The term sounded vaguely familiar, like something I’d once read online and immediately wished I hadn’t.
“What exactly does that mean?”
Dr. Navarro stepped closer.
“It means the placenta may be attached more deeply than normal. Sometimes it causes no problems at all. Other times it can lead to significant bleeding after delivery. Right now, we’re preparing for every possibility.”
Preparing.
Not panicking.
That was clearly the message she intended to deliver.
Unfortunately, my body hadn’t received it.
I turned toward Ethan.
“Did you know about this?”
The question struck him harder than I expected.
“No,” he answered quietly. “I didn’t know.”
Those words carried more weight than either of us wanted to admit.
He hadn’t known about the diagnosis.
He hadn’t known about the pregnancy.
He hadn’t known about any of it.
