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nowandajenn · 4 months ago

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Blue Christmas -chapter 11

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

Series warnings: angst (like a lot), mentions of infidelity, language, family drama, pregnancy, sexual situations.

Author’s Note: I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.

January 8th (Six days post accident)

The pain meds they give people in the hospital following surgery pack a wallop, especially when given through an IV. They make me have crazy dreams, turn my attention span paper thin, and have the added bonus of turning my brain/mouth filter virtually non-existent.

I’m trying to pay attention to the conversation that Chris is trying to have with me. I really am. To be fair, he knew when he got here an hour ago that I had just gotten another dose.

“What about this one?”

Chris turns the iPad towards me so I can see yet another picture and resume’ of a home health nurse. It was an idea that he was originally against, but both Lisa and Andi, my main nurse, had both suggested that maybe having someone come in for a few hours a day a couple times a week would be a good thing. As much as he wants to do everything he possibly can for you, he also knows he’s only one person. After not hearing a response, and thinking maybe I had dozed off into a narcotic induced nap, he looks up to see me using my good hand to fiddle with the end of the braid that the nurse had put my hair into earlier after the shower that I’d finally been allowed to have after days of bed baths.

Showers used to be glorious things. Water turned up to near scalding levels, music playing loud with me singing loudly (and badly) along, and nice shampoo and shower gel that smells amazing. This was not that. This was an entire process that took nearly an hour, starting with my casted leg and equally casted arm being wrapped in waterproof plastic and ending with me in tears because washing long hair takes two functional hands, and I only had one. There’s zero dignity in having another person give you a shower when you’re a grown woman who’s been showering and bathing by herself for many years now without issue. The nurse had been amazingly sweet and sympathetic and helped me with whatever I couldn’t do on my own (which was a lot), but the whole experience just left me feeling useless and depressed.

A soft touch to my hand brings me back to the present.

“Where’d you go?” he asks softly.

”My hair smells weird.”

He leans forward a bit so he can get a whiff of my hair. “It smells okay to me.”

“It’s not the same. It’s weird, clinical hospital shampoo. It doesn’t smell good like mine.” I lament. “I couldn’t even wash my own hair today. It’s too long, and I couldn’t do it with one hand. I can’t even-”

My voice starts to waver and I look down at my arm that’s laying useless in a sling across my chest. Even my fingers are so swollen and bruised that I couldn’t even put my rings on if I tried. My ring finger, which hasn’t been naked since Chris slipped my engagement ring on it some four and a half years ago, feels very bare and just wrong. Everything about the accident and my injuries keeps hitting me in different ways.

I look over at Chris and then down at the iPad that he’s still holding. “Hire whoever you want. I honestly don’t care, and it’s not like I have any choice in the matter.”

He sighs softly, knowing that this conversation was never going to go over well. He knows that I know that I’m going to need as much help as I can get when I finally get released to go home, but he also knows that being as stubborn and self sufficient as I am, my worst nightmare is having someone have to help me do something as simple as get out of fucking bed.

“This is the one thing that’s happened lately that you do get to choose. I want to get someone that you’re going to like and be comfortable with. I can’t imagine what this is like for you right now, and I’m just trying to make life as easy as it can get when you’re home.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to like someone from a goddamn resume’. As long as they can do the job without fucking me up more than I already am, great.” My back is starting to ache because of the position that I’m laying in, and when I go to slide further up the bed, I’m rewarded with a searing pain in my stomach from the movement pulling at my still healing splenectomy incisions.

“Fuck, honey-”

I fall back on the pillows, irritated as hell and over this damn conversation, and the words fly out of my mouth before I can even think about stopping them.

“Just pick someone! Maybe you’ll get lucky and you’ll get another girl who’s going to fall for the irresistible Chris Evans charm, who has no moral compass and no compunction about sleeping with married men. Then you can throw a shot into her too.”

I watch as his face falls, his hand pulling back from where it’s been resting on my arm and a lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat. I didn’t mean to say that. I might as well just be wearing a name tag that says Hi, I’m: Here To Make Things Worse. I cover my mouth with my hand and glance up towards the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away before they can fully form.

“I’m…..I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” I start, but the words don’t want to come out.

“It’s okay.” he tries to assure me.

“No, it’s not.” I look down at the fluffy blue blanket that Chris brought me from home and I play with the slightly frayed edge, ashamed and unable to look at the broken look on his face. “This is a bad idea.”

He pops a shoulder. “Could always hire a male nurse.” he says, raising his eyebrow.

I let out a small snort, knowing he said it to try and lighten the mood, but all I can feel right now is trepidation at the thought of coming home with Chris to recover and him taking the brunt of all of my frustrations and emotional eruptions.

He turns the iPad off and puts it on the side table and I watch as he stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of the chair, and my eyes widen.

“Don’t leave. Please, I-” I sputter out, trying to push down my panic.

“I’m not. I’m just going to run down and get a coffee and check in with Shanna and see how Dodger’s doing. Are you getting hungry? You want me to grab you something?”

I squint, trying to remember the dinner options on the meal sheet they give me every day and which one I might have picked.

“Uhhhhh….no. I’ll be okay. They should be bringing whatever I picked out soon anyway. I’ll live.”

“Okay. Text me if you change your mind. I’ll be back. No more than half an hour, I promise.” he says, resting his palm on the top of my head gently.

When Chris gets back twenty or so minutes later, I’m honestly sort of surprised he came back instead of just going home and getting away from my emotional, broken ass for a while. And even more surprised that his mom is with him, since I didn’t know she was planning on coming by today.

When they walk in, I’m sitting in one of the chairs in the room with my leg propped up, poking at a dish of red jello with a spoon.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Chris asks, surprised.

“I had to pee after you left, and being in bed was making my back hurt, so I asked if they could just park me here for a while. There’s not a ton of options when all you can really do is sit, so…I’ll be ready to get back in bed in a while.”

Lisa starts towards me and I push the wheeled table away from me slightly so she can bend down and give me a hug, which I return with a strength that takes her by surprise a little bit. Knowing how hard the last few days (hell, weeks for that matter) have been and the fact that your mom isn’t around, she just had a feeling today that you could probably use a big dose of love that only a mama can provide, which is why she decided to pop by and surprise both you and Chris.

She tilts my cheek to the side gently as she examines my face. “Your bruises are looking better.”

“Mmm. Still hurts. Airbags will save your life, but you’re going to feel like you went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson after they go off in your face.”

“So, Chris and I were talking downstairs, and I had an idea.” I swallow my mouthful of jello and look towards Chris, really hoping that he didn’t tell her about what I said. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly and the anxiety in my gut loosens up a bit.

“What would you think about me coming to stay with you guys for a bit when you got home?”

“Chris, tell me you didn’t ask your mom to come home with us to be my babysitter.” I groan. Lisa snorts slightly. “He didn’t ask. I’m offering. I know you’re not crazy about someone you don’t know being in your house and….” she searches for the right words “helping you. And it wouldn’t be for too long; just until you guys get yourselves situated at home and get into a routine with things. It’s just to make the transition a little smoother.” she assures me.

I look over at Chris and he shrugs, gesturing to me. “This is your call.”

I sigh, looking over at my mother in law, who I adore more than anyone in the world. “I’m not great to be around lately. I’m still not convinced that coming home after this is the right thing to do, and I’m afraid it’s really just going to make things worse. I don’t want you both to have to deal with my psychotic mood swings.”

“Sweetheart, if your mood was completely stable after everything that’s happened, I’d be terrified. You’re hurt, and you can’t do the things that everyone else takes for granted without help, and everyone knows how frustrating that is. I know you’re angry and sad and frustrated. And that’s okay. We’re-” she gestures between herself and her eldest son “made of tough stuff. Well, I’m tougher than him. We all know he’s a big baby who cries at the drop of a Hallmark movie.” I sputter out a laugh while wiping my eyes.

“We all love you, and we’re all here for you no matter what.”

January 17th (Fifteen days post accident)

“They would release you on the coldest day of the year.” Chris says as he makes a final sweep around the hospital room that I’ve called home for the last two weeks.

I huff out a small laugh. “Let’s just get the hell out of here before they come back here and tell me that they’ve decided to keep me for another week.”

“They should be back any minute with your discharge papers, and then we’ll go. The doc said he was going to call in your prescriptions to Walgreens, so hopefully they’ll be ready by the time we get there. Or I can get you home and settled in and run back out and grab them.”

“We can wait for them. It’s too cold to be running back and forth.”

I look down at my “going home” outfit and can’t help but feel completely ridiculous. A pair of pink flannel pajama pants with penguins on them (they’re the only thing besides sweats that I can get up over the cast on my leg), a long sleeved white shirt, and one of Chris’ hoodies that’s zipped up over my sling, leaving just my good arm in the sleeve. They removed the stitches from my arm yesterday, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at it. The compression bandage that I’ve been instructed to wear all the time (with the exception of showers) is a lot more comfortable than the layers of wrapping my arm was encased in, but still annoying. And it itches like the devil. My right foot is encased in fluffy socks and a shoe, and my left leg is of course still in a cast, a sock pulled down over my exposed toes so they don’t freeze off when I go outside.

My eyes go to the small black wheelchair that’s coming home with me and I squeeze my eyes shut. Because I’ve been instructed not to use my damaged arm for ANYTHING more strenuous than moving it gently to maneuver a shirt on and off, I can’t use crutches.

Chris finishes packing up my backpack, and stops when he sees me staring vacantly at the wheelchair. He frowns, and walks over slowly, sitting on his heels in front of me.

“Hey.” he murmurs softly, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Hmm?”

“This isn’t going to be forever. They said the cast is going to come off hopefully in a couple of weeks, and then they’re going to put you in a walking boot. At least then you’ll be able to get up and move around. I know, I know how much you hate this. I do. But it is not forever.”

“I know.” I hate how small my voice is. “I hate how I have to think about every move I make. I can’t reach for anything because I can’t use my arm. I have to be careful when I stretch or it hurts my stomach. I have to cough or sneeze as soft as I can or else my ribs hurt. It’s just….I feel like a prisoner in my own body right now.”

“But you’re going to get the chance to get stronger and recover.” I look up at him and our eyes meet, and I know we’re both thinking about the fact that the driver of the car that hit me died four days ago from his injuries sustained in the crash, and how that could have been me instead.

When the nurse comes in with my discharge papers and the litany of aftercare instructions, Chris takes them and heads downstairs with my stuff so he can bring the car around to the front entrance. The nurse helps me put my coat and hat on before helping me maneuver myself into the wheelchair and we head down to the first floor.

“You excited you’re finally out of here?” she asks me with a smile.

“And nervous. It was kind of comforting knowing that even though I was stuck in here, if anything went wrong, I was in the right place.”

I see Chris pull up at the curb, and the nurse wheels me outside, and I gasp at the biting cold. It’s the first time I’ve felt fresh air on my skin since the day of the accident, and although it’s beyond freezing, it still feels amazing to breathe it in. It isn’t until I get situated in the passenger seat and we’re ready to drive home that the panic sets in.

“The last time I was in a car I almost died.”

Chris takes his hands off the steering wheel and reaches over to hold my right hand.

“I know.”

“You drive like an insane person.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he snorts, because he knows the amount of speeding tickets he’s accumulated since he started driving is ridiculous. But he also knows that since the accident, he’s been almost hyper aware of his speed and everything going on around him, when he usually just goes on autopilot when he’s driving, like anyone else who drives every day.

“I promise I won’t drive like an insane person with you in the car.”

“Don’t drive like an insane person ever. You can’t control the way other idiots drive, but you can control how you do. I need you around.”

Those words make hope bloom in his chest.

“I promise.”

When we get home, relief washes over me. As promised, Chris drove very carefully and obeyed the speed limit, but I was still a nervous wreck the whole 25 minute drive. Plus, being scrunched in the roomy, but limited space of the passenger seat isn’t very comfortable with my injuries. One the car is parked inside the garage and Chris has my door open, he realizes that he didn’t really think this part through very well.

The furniture inside has been arranged and re-arranged about a dozen times in different configurations to accommodate the wheelchair in the house. He purchased a shower chair for me to make showers easier, he got cast wraps to keep the cast on my leg dry, he set up a perfect little nest with pillows and blankets on our sectional so I’d be comfortable, with remotes and chargers and books, and even a little cooler within reach.

I notice the look on his face that he gets when he’s confused about something or trying to find a solution to a problem, and turn to him.

“You’re trying to figure out how you’re going to get me in the house, aren’t you?”

The sheepish, yet slightly guilty look on his face tells me I’m right. “I have guys coming on Monday to put in a temporary ramp over the stairs in front. But I didn’t think about today.”

There’s two steps to get from the garage into the house, and the wheelchair isn’t going to make it up them.

“You’re going to have to carry me in the house.”

“I was thinking that, but I don’t want to hurt you. You’re still really sore.” he says, gesturing to his chest and stomach.

“I’m pretty sure everything I do for a while is going to be somewhat painful, but I think this is our only option. Why don’t you grab the wheelchair and bring it in, put Dodger in the bedroom until we get inside so he doesn’t knock me down when he sees me, and then come back out and grab me?”

He exhales slowly. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Just…..” he trails off, gesturing vaguely at me.

“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”

When Chris comes back out, he comes around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I turn in the seat, angling myself as much as I can to make it easier for him to grab me and carry me inside. I’m slightly nervous about how much this is going to hurt, but I’m determined to not let it show.

“You ready?”

I take a deep breath and nod. He stoops down and slides his left arm around my back, while his right arm loops under my legs and he lifts me gently, my good arm going around his neck. He’s carried me like this about a million times in the years that we’ve been together, but for some reason, all I can think about is how he carried me (both of us slightly tipsy) like this up to our hotel room after our wedding reception, and me laughing and telling him not to drop me or else I’d get our marriage annulled. I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory.

I open them back up when I feel Chris setting me down on the end of the sofa and helping me get comfortable.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks nervously.

“I’m okay. Can you just grab a couple pillows so I can put my leg up though?”

He hits the button on the side of the couch for the foot rest to come up and slides a couple throw pillows under my leg.

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“I”m okay for right now. Can you go get Dodger though? I missed him like crazy.”

He smiles and goes to the bedroom to let the dog out, and a second later, I hear the sound of his nails clicking rapidly on the hardwood.

“Hi, baby!” I exclaim, holding my arm out.

“Dodge, be gentle, okay? Careful.” Chris warns.

Dodger jumps up on the couch next to me and immediately snuggles into my side. Luckily enough, he’s on my good side so I can give him pets and belly rubs.

“Mom’s going to be over in a few hours. She said she wanted to give us a little bit of time to get settled in and such. I’m gonna go and unpack our stuff and start some laundry. You have the remotes and your phone and charger nearby….if you need anything, just yell. Or tell Dodger to come get me.”

“I will. I think I’m going to try and take a nap though, honestly. The trip home kind of took it out of me.”

“Okay.” He grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over me, dropping a kiss to my head before he leaves to go get started on unpacking our stuff. As he walks away, he stops to look back at me again, thinking to himself how it seems like it’s been a lifetime since the last time the both of us were in this house together, even though it’s only been about three weeks. As much as he wanted you back home, he never in a million years thought this would be how it happened.

January 25th (23 days post accident)

“God, that feels nice.” I moan at the feeling of Chris’ fingers in my hair, massaging the shampoo in.

“Why do you think I always beg you to wash my hair?” he says, smirking. I catch his use of the present tense, and try and think about how long it’s been since the last shower we took together before the accident. I’m damn near positive it was way different than the ones that have happened since I’ve been home, and probably ended in orgasms all around.

“This is infinitely better than the showers in the hospital. The nurse who always used to do mine had long ass nails. I’m pretty sure one of them is still embedded in my brain somewhere.”

He laughs as he rinses my hair with the detachable shower head. After working conditioner through my hair and helping me scrub myself down and even shaving my right leg and under my arms for me, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist before grabbing another one to dry me off. I’m sitting on the toilet lid in my underwear while Chris smooths lotion on me, letting me do what I can reach with my good arm when I say his name softly.

“Thank you.” I watch his eyebrow quirk up in confusion.

“What for?”

“This. The- everything. When we got married, I bet you never imagined you’d have to help me shower and put on clean underwear and take me to go pee.”

He looks down as he continues to rub the lotion into my leg. “No, but I don’t think anyone goes in ever thinking about the worst case scenario where those things would ever come up. But that’s part of the deal, right? For better or worse? That covers everything; not just the good stuff. You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.”

“You could have just let my mom have her way and let them take me home.” I point out.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. For one thing, you and your mom would have ended up killing each other. And for another…..your head is giving you enough grief as it is right now, and being around her would have just made it worse. I couldn’t do that to you.”

I see Chris reach for my shirt and groan, knowing how much it hurts my arm to put a damn shirt on.

“How bad does it look?”

“Your arm?”

I nod slightly and he sighs. “It’s still really raw and red. It’s going to fade, but it’s going to take some time. The doctor recommended some stuff that’s supposed to help with scars. Make them less visible over time.”

“Can I see it?” I ask.

“Are you sure?” he asks. I shrug a bit.

He picks me up off the toilet seat and walks us in front of the bathroom mirror and turns so I can see my arm. I suck in a shuddering breath and close my eyes. It’s ugly. A roughly five inch or so vertical incision straight down my upper arm, red and raw and glaringly obvious. Even when it’s fully healed, it’s going to be ugly.

“If you want, I can always talk to Josh. We can see if he can draw something up so you can cover it up once it’s fully healed.”

I nod as tears leak out of my eyes. Chris tilts my chin up. “It’s just a scar. It doesn’t define you and it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” He pivots so my ass is sat on the bathroom vanity and once I’m settled, he pulls the shirt over my head, being gentle with my arm, and then helps me into a clean pair of pajama pants.

“You know, we’re actually getting kind of good at this.” he says as he carries me out of the bathroom and sets me down in our bed.

“I hate that that’s something to brag about.” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “Although, I guess after doing the same thing day after day for a couple weeks, it’s to be expected. You don’t look quite as terrified now as you did the first time we did this.”

February 2nd (one month post accident)

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner….I was in a pretty serious car accident a month ago and things have been a little hectic since then. I haven’t been cleared by my doctor to fly yet, so there’s no way we can make it out there. Mmmmhmmm. Yeah, the reservation is under Kelly Evans.”

Chris walks into the kitchen and starts making himself a cup of coffee while I’m on hold with the resort to cancel the Valentines Day reservations I had made back in November. I had a solid plan that I had cooked up with Meghan and his team so he wouldn’t have anything scheduled for the three days I had booked at Post Ranch Inn, but then between finding out about the affair and the accident, my carefully made plan got blown straight to hell, leaving me feeling a little (lot) angry.

“Okay. Thank you again for all your help. I’m sorry again for the late notice.”

I end the call and toss my cell phone onto the island, irritation bubbling up inside me.

“Who was that?”

“Canceling the reservation I made for us for Valentines Day at Post Ranch Inn. I made it before I found out about you fucking someone else. That kind of took the romance out of it a little bit. Well, that and the fact that my body’s still mostly useless.”

My newly (as of two days ago) uncasted leg starts itching to high hell under the walking boot and compression sock I have on, and I start the process of unstrapping the boot one handed so I can enjoy scratching my leg to my heart’s content. I wish I could have gotten a picture of Chris and the doctor’s faces when my cast was finally cut off and a fork, two pens, and a plastic ruler came tumbling out of it, all lost in my attempt to wedge something down there to scratch the itch.

He sighs lightly and turns so his back is to the counter, giving me what I’ve coined his “kicked puppy look.” Most of the time, I feel guilty for whatever I said to make that look appear, but today I’m just too agitated to care.

“Don’t give me that look. You do it every single time I mention the fact that you had sex with someone else. You know what you did. You don’t get to make that face and look like I just told you that Disneyland is closing down forever.”

He walks over to where I’m sitting with a sigh, and reaches to help me with the straps on my boot. “Can we not fight? Please? I know that there’s an ocean of stuff we have to work through, and I know none of this is easy…I just don’t want to fight with you.”

“Just stop. I can do it myself. You know, just because I still need you to help with most of my basic human functions doesn’t mean that I necessarily like being around you all the time. You’re my husband and for some God forsaken reason, even though you did what you did, I still love you, despite me calling you a cheating shitbag in my head at least once a day. So, just leave me alone for a little while, okay? I was really excited about having this trip happen, and it all got blown to hell in a really magnificent fashion, so let me just sit here and be pissed off and sad about it.”

He holds his hands up and backs away. “Okay. I can do that. Just, we have your doctor’s appointment at 2, so let me know when you need me to come help you get ready.” I look up at him and nod, spinning my phone on the table. He starts to walk away, but then turns back towards me.

“You know, when the accident happened and you were out of surgery, I kind of went into crisis mode. I called my team and canceled everything, because I knew that you were going to need someone to be there for you and help take care of you until you were stronger. And I know that you have a million people that are in our lives that would drop everything and do that for you, because you’re amazing and everyone loves you so much. The parade of people that have come and gone through here since you’ve been home is proof of that. I kind of just took charge, because I didn’t know what else to do….and I don’t think I took the time to stop and ask myself if you even wanted it to be me, given everything that happened.”

“Chris….I did. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable having anyone else do it.”

He nods. “I know that it’s hard for you to be around me sometimes. I know that you’re still angry, and hurt and upset and you have every right to be. I know we’re a mess, but once things settle down a little bit, we’ll get in to go see that therapist that Carly told me about, and we’ll start working through it. That is, if you still want to.”

“I do.”

A few hours later, we’re sitting in the waiting room of my gynecologist’s office, and Chris is just staring around the room at the posters on the wall, and occasionally glancing at the couple of pregnant women that are in the waiting room with us.

“Why did you need to see her?” he asks softly.

“I’m overdue for my annual exam, and since all I do lately is go to the doctor, I figured I should probably just get it out of the way.” It’s a half truth. Well, ⅓ truth. If the doctor was right about my hcG levels when I was in the hospital, I’m about six weeks pregnant, and it’s probably time to get official confirmation in black and white. And if I am, Chris deserves to be there to hear it. But first, he needs to get something done himself.

The nurse comes by and hands us both a clipboard with paperwork on it, and Chris’ eyebrows raise. “Why do I get paperwork?”

The nurse clears her throat nervously and taps a section on the paperwork. STD test, with the works. She walks away to let us fill out the papers, and his eyes shoot to mine.

“Really? I told you, I used a condom.” he whispers.

“I don’t care. I need to see it for myself, for my own peace of mind.”

He’s called back first, and with a nervous swallow and a look back at me, he follows the nurse. I’m called back shortly after, and after blood work, urine test, and the internal exam, Chris is allowed back into the exam room to wait with me while the results come back.

“You want to grab something to eat after this? You didn’t have much for breakfast earlier.” he asks.

“Uh, yeah, I-” I’m interrupted by a knock on the door followed by Dr. Hartman coming back in. By the look on her face, I just know.

“Congratulations, you guys are pregnant.”

Chris is lucky that there’s a chair right behind him, or he would have been in a world of pain. When I see him basically collapse into the chair, I get worried.

“Mr. Evans, are you okay?” Dr. Hartman asks, reaching for his wrist to check his pulse. His face is a look of pure shock, like he can’t begin to comprehend what he just heard.

“Chris?” I ask, my own emotions threatening to spill out despite knowing this was coming. I instantly feel bad for not giving him a heads up that this was a very real chance. His eyes find mine and we just stare at each other.

“I’m okay. I just- it’s- are you sure?” he asks, his voice unsteady. The doctor steps away, seemingly convinced that a movie star isn’t going to drop dead of shock in one of her exam rooms. “The tests are extremely accurate, but I’m going to go ahead and do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can take a look. If you’re far enough along, we should be able to hear the heartbeat.”

Since I’m still in the gown and haven’t gotten dressed yet, I lay back on the table and assume the position again as she pulls the ultrasound machine towards her. Chris gets up on unsteady legs and stands next to me, still looking shell shocked.

“Okay, this is going to be a little uncomfortable. Just take a nice deep breath.” she warns. I do as she says, but I still make a face when the probe is inserted. Chris is torn between watching my face and wanting to see what’s happening on the screen. Me, I’m too afraid to look anywhere but his face. For as much trepidation as I’m feeling over this pregnancy, I’m overcome with the sudden fear that she’s going to find the baby and there’s not going to be a heartbeat, just like last time, and I honestly don’t know if I can go through that twice.

“There it is.” I hear from next to me. I watch as his eyes move from mine to the screen, seeing the tiny blob in the middle of my uterus with the little flicker in the middle. A heartbeat. I still can’t bring myself to look though. Dr. Hartman, who was the one who told me that I had miscarried and performed my D&C, senses my fear, and quietly hits a button on the machine. The sound is almost overwhelming as it fills the room. I have a crazy thought that it almost sounds like clothes in the washer as it’s agitating. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. My eyes snap to the screen, and I immediately bring my hand to my mouth and burst into tears.

“From the size, it looks like you’re about six or seven weeks. Which is going to put the due date at about….” she stops to put some numbers into the computer. September 23rd, give or take.”

After printing off some pictures and leaving the room to let me get cleaned up and get dressed, we leave the office feeling a million different emotions. We’re both quiet on the drive home, both lost in thought. How many times have we wished for this? How many negative pregnancy tests have we seen and tossed angrily into the trash, tears threatening to spill. How many times did we say “It’s okay. It’ll happen. I know it.” only for it to happen during the worst period in our marriage?

When we get home, I slowly waddle into the house, still enjoying the feeling of being able to (somewhat) walk instead of being chained to that damn wheelchair. I make my way to the back door to let Dodger out, passing Lisa, who’s watching both Chris and I with a curious, careful gaze.

I feel him behind me as I turn on the tap, filling a glass with water and downing it almost all in one gulp.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly. He can see my hand trembling slightly as I hold the glass, and he knows he has to tread lightly.

“In general? Or about the fact that we found out I’m pregnant in the middle of our personal shit storm?”

“Both.” I drop my head. Truth be told, I’m exhausted. My arm is killing me, the nerve pain making burning pins and needles radiate over my whole arm. My leg is aching from being on it for an extended amount of time.

I’ve been trying to roll it over and around in my head for weeks. What to do if I really did have the shittiest luck in the world, and I did end up actually pregnant in this situation. I keep coming back to the bad joke that my brother made the night I found out about Chris about me not having to deal with all of this while I was pregnant.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” My voice is soft, but he hears it like I’m screaming it. “I don’t know if I can have this baby. I don’t know if my body can handle it, and I don’t know if I can handle it emotionally.”

The words punch through him like a hit from a prize fighter. He knows exactly when it happened; the night that you had come over to get a dress from your closet and we had ended up defling quite a few surfaces in the house. There’s a good chance that our baby was conceived on the dining room table.

“Are you talking about-” he can’t even bring himself to say the words. He KNOWS this the worst timing for this to happen. He KNOWS that no matter what, it’s your choice. But the thought of not having this baby with you almost brings him to his knees.

My breath hitches. “Chris, look at us. Take a good look at me, at my body. I’m broken. I’m still recovering. I’d have to be monitored more closely to make sure that everything is okay. Because we don’t know if it will be.” The thought of finally getting everything I wanted with my husband and then not having it makes my chest hurt.

“I’ve wanted kids with you since the moment you told me you loved me for the first time, and that I was it for you. I knew that you were going to be the father of my kids one day. But now, with everything, I don’t know if that’s the case anymore.”

The tears are burning my eyes, and I can feel the sobs starting to build in my throat, and I know if I don’t get out of this room right now, I’m going to lose it. I’m pretty sure that Lisa heard at least part of our conversation, and I can’t talk about it anymore without losing my mind. I set my glass in the sink and silently make my way upstairs, thinking that two of the worst conversations I’ve had in my life have taken place in the kitchen that I loved. Now I can barely stand to be in it.

#chris evans #blue christmas #angst #chris evans fic #pregnancy

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troonpatrol · 1 year ago

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yea there's no direct evidence against lucy letby but she was the only member of staff who was present at every single death & near death event on the ward. and when she was sent to work on another ward, the suspicious deaths & unexplained illnesses on the neonatal ward stopped. like she for sure did that shit, and it's pretty commonplace for people to be convicted based on circumstantial evidence rather than direct evidence anyway

I genuinely don't expect anyone to agree, and I apologise if I upset anyone. How is that sufficient evidence for you ? Do you not expect more from the police ?

I don't know if she did it or not, but I do believe that this case is a total sham, built on media sensationalism and the police and hospital management avoiding accountability.

She has been convicted as a SERIAL killer without any direct evidence. She was the only member of staff present at all of the death events so they have automatically turned it into a serial killer case, that's make no sense! Just because she was there at all of them doesn't mean that others weren't also present at some of them. Nurses and hospitals in general are fucking useless death traps and I'm saying this as a black woman. Where is the evidence to show why is it a serial killer case and not a malpractice case. There are implications for a conviction like this.

Just look at the rates in which men kill their patients, plastic surgery clinics are basically cemeteries. We should be asking ourselves why we haven't seen more hospital based serial killer convictions.

More people should be held accountable, the entire wards neglect has been pinned on a single person, based on purely circumstantial evidence. This is unheard of.

Don't even get me started on the media's roll in all of this.

This single paragraph is the entire article.

'Nightmare scenario' this could easily describe someone who is scared or shit at their job or just a moron.

Sensationalism has driven this counties outrage at 1 single woman instead of a systematic hospital issue. Bare in mind, multiple hospitals in the UK since forever have reported similar if not worse neonatal results.

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creative9blogs · 7 months ago

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The Transformative Power of Cosmetic Plastic Surgery

Have you ever looked in the mirror and wished for a change? It could be a scar you'd like to minimize or features you've longed to enhance. Cosmetic plastic surgery might be on your mind, but questions swirl: can it truly transform lives, and is it right for me?

Beyond the Before-and-After: Understanding Transformation

Cosmetic plastic surgery isn't just about achieving a specific look from a magazine. It's about a personal journey towards feeling more confident and comfortable in your skin. This transformation can be physical, emotional, and even social.

Physical Transformation: Procedures like rhinoplasty (nose job) or Breast Implants In Pune can address features that cause insecurity. Imagine feeling happy to wear that swimsuit you love or finally rocking your dream glasses without feeling self-conscious about your nose.

Emotional Transformation: When physical concerns weigh you down, cosmetic surgery can lift that burden. Increased confidence can lead to a more positive outlook, reduced anxiety, and greater self-worth.

Social Transformation: Feeling good about your appearance can translate into feeling more outgoing and confident in social settings. You might find yourself taking on new opportunities you previously avoided.

Stories of Transformation: Real People, Real Results

Sarah, a teacher, felt constantly judged for her prominent nose. After rhinoplasty, she describes a newfound freedom: "Now, I can focus on connecting with my students, not feeling self-conscious in photos."

David, a software engineer, battled self-esteem issues due to excess weight. Liposuction helped him achieve a comfortable physique, leading him to join a gym and embrace an active lifestyle.

These are just a few examples of how cosmetic surgery can be a catalyst for positive change.

Remember, It's Your Journey: Making Informed Choices

Considering cosmetic surgery? Here are some key points to remember:

Do your research: Explore different procedures, understand the risks and recovery process, and consult with qualified board-certified plastic surgeons.

Be honest with yourself: What are your goals? Are they realistic and based on your desires, not societal pressures?

Open communication is key: Discuss your expectations thoroughly with your surgeon. A good surgeon will listen to your concerns and guide you toward the best options for your unique case.

It's Not Just About Looks: Reconstructive Surgery's Impact

While cosmetic surgery focuses on aesthetics, reconstructive surgery plays a vital role in healing and restoration. It can address birth defects, injuries, and the effects of disease.

A woman who has undergone breast cancer reconstruction can regain a sense of normalcy and femininity.

A burn victim can receive skin grafts, minimizing scarring and regaining mobility.

Reconstructive surgery's transformative power goes beyond appearance. It's about restoring function, improving quality of life, and fostering a sense of wholeness.

Embrace Your Journey: You Deserve to Feel Confident

Whether you're considering cosmetic or reconstructive surgery, remember, this is your journey. It's about taking charge of your well-being and feeling your best.

Here are some additional points to consider:

Focus on overall health: Cosmetic surgery is not a magic solution. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle through diet and exercise is crucial for optimal results and long-term well-being.

The importance of self-love: While cosmetic surgery can boost confidence, it shouldn't replace self-acceptance. True beauty radiates from within, and surgery should complement, not replace your inherent worth.

Considering Cosmetic Surgery?

If you're contemplating cosmetic surgery, take some time for self-reflection. Research, consult with qualified professionals, and prioritize your physical and emotional well-being. Remember, you deserve to feel confident and comfortable in your skin. Ready to start your journey? In Pune, Dr. Hitesh Laad is a board-certified plastic surgeon with over a decade of experience in performing various cosmetic procedures. His practice, Enhance Clinics, offers a range of services, including rhinoplasty, breast augmentation, liposuction, and more. Search for "Dr. Hitesh Laad cosmetic plastic surgery Pune" or visit punecosmeticsurgery.com to learn more about his expertise and approach.

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z0mbi3-s0krat3s · 2 years ago

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This one was relentless with the comedic zombie action 🧟‍♂️ 😅 Dutch(ish) film but half-spoken in English. Great setup where this chick is going to a plastic surgery clinic to get a breast reduction (lol) and all hell breaks loose. Tons of blood, guts and gore, great pace, fun characters, some good kills, solid zombie makeup, and a few bonus elements that just kept bumping this one up higher in points for me. Overall I gotta give it a 7.5 but damn close to an 8/10. (No complaints here. It's just to get into that upper echelon there has to be something especially unique or well done). A Shudder Original, but if you have a Dollar Tree near you go check their DVD section. Mine had a copy I picked up a month or two ago 🤘⚠️🤘

#dark art #horror #horror art #dark #gothic #zombies #morbid #undead #zombie #goth #horror movies #horror movie review #yummy #zomedy #zombie movie #horror comedy

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medjournalhealthcare · 29 days ago

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Male Breast Reduction Surgery in Thane – Effective Solutions for Gynecomastia

Gynecomastia can be a difficult experience for men, affecting physical appearance and self-esteem. For those seeking a solution, breast reduction surgery in Thane offers a highly effective approach. Known as gynecomastia surgery in Thane, this procedure helps men achieve a firmer, more masculine chest, boosting self-confidence and overall quality of life. Here, we’ll look at the process, benefits, and reasons why male chest surgery in Thane is an ideal choice.

About Aanvaya Hospital Where Compassion Meets Expertise Aanvaya Hospital stands as a top choice for exceptional breast and cosmetic care. With state-of-the-art facilities and a team of highly skilled surgeons, our commitment to quality is evident in every aspect of our practice. Each patient receives personalized care and advanced treatments tailored to their unique needs, ensuring optimal results.

Dr. Amit Bhalotia Dr. Amit Bhalotia, a distinguished Plastic & Cosmetic Surgeon in Thane, brings extensive training and expertise to his practice. His credentials include DNB in General Surgery, MCh in Plastic Surgery, DNB in Plastic Surgery, MNAMS, FMAS, and FDAFPRS from the UK. He was awarded the All-India Gold Medal in 2016 and serves as an honorary consultant with the JJ Group of Hospitals, demonstrating his dedication to advancing plastic and cosmetic surgery.

Understanding Male Breast Reduction Surgery What is Gynecomastia? Gynecomastia, or male breast enlargement, often results from hormonal imbalances, genetics, obesity, or certain medications. This common condition affects men of all ages and may vary in severity.gynecomastia surgery near me There are different types of gynecomastia, ranging from mild to severe, and each type may require a different surgical approach.

Who is a Candidate for Male Breast Reduction Surgery? Men experiencing discomfort, pain, or emotional challenges due to enlarged breast tissue may be ideal candidates for gynecomastia surgery in Thane. Consulting the best gynecomastia surgeon in Thane can help determine whether this surgery is the right choice for you.

Benefits of Male Breast Reduction Surgery in Thane Restoring Confidence and Masculine Contour male breast reduction surgery in Thane reshapes the chest to a more masculine contour, often boosting confidence in clothing choices and activities like swimming. Enhanced Physical Comfort Gynecomastia surgery not only improves appearance but also relieves physical discomfort, such as pain, skin irritation, and limitations in physical activities, making daily life more comfortable.

The Male Breast Reduction Surgery Process Surgical Techniques There are two main techniques used in male chest surgery in Thane: liposuction and excision. Liposuction is typically used when the condition is primarily caused by excess fat, while excision is performed to remove glandular tissue and excess skin. In some cases, a combination of both techniques may be required to achieve the best results.

What to Expect Before undergoing gynecomastia surgery in Thane, you’ll have a consultation with a gynecomastia surgery specialist in Thane to discuss your goals and expectations. On the day of surgery, the procedure will be performed under general anesthesia, and the surgery itself typically lasts between one to two hours. Recovery time varies, but most patients can return to normal activities within a few weeks.

Cost of Male Breast Reduction Surgery in Thane Factors Impacting Cost The cost of gynecomastia surgery cost in Thane depends on factors like the surgeon’s experience, clinic location, and surgery complexity. Liposuction tends to be less expensive than excision, though final costs will depend on the specific treatment plan. Insurance Coverage While often considered a cosmetic procedure,gynecomastia surgery in Thane may be partially covered by insurance if deemed medically necessary, such as when it causes physical discomfort.

Why Choose a Specialist in Thane for Male Breast Reduction Surgery? Specialized Expertise Choosing a gynecomastia surgery specialist in Thane ensures you receive the highest level of care and optimal results. A board-certified surgeon with a focus on gynecomastia brings expertise that minimizes risks and enhances successful outcomes.

Convenient Post-Operative Care Another advantage of opting for male chest surgery in Thane is the convenience of having the procedure done locally. This makes post-operative care, such as follow-up visits, much easier to manage, ensuring a smooth recovery.

Conclusion If you’re struggling with gynecomastia and want to regain your confidence, male breast reduction surgery in Thane can offer a life-changing solution. With the help of an experienced gynecomastia surgery specialist in Thane, you can achieve a more masculine appearance and enjoy improved comfort. Whether you’re concerned about the gynecomastia surgery cost in Thane or wondering about the best treatment option, consulting with a local specialist is the first step toward feeling like yourself again.

FAQs

1. What is male breast reduction surgery?

Male breast reduction surgery, also known as gynecomastia surgery, is a procedure that removes excess fat, glandular tissue, and/or skin from a man’s chest to create a flatter, more masculine appearance.

2. What causes gynecomastia?

Gynecomastia can be caused by hormonal imbalances, obesity, genetics, certain medications, or medical conditions. It’s a common condition that affects men of all ages.

3. Who is a good candidate for male breast reduction surgery in Thane?

Men who have enlarged breasts due to gynecomastia and are experiencing physical discomfort, emotional distress, or self-consciousness are ideal candidates. Consulting a gynecomastia surgery specialist will help determine if you are a suitable candidate.

4. How is male breast reduction surgery performed?

The surgery can involve liposuction to remove excess fat, excision to remove glandular tissue, or a combination of both. The method used depends on the individual case and the type of gynecomastia.

5. What is the recovery time for male breast reduction surgery?

Recovery time varies, but most patients can resume normal activities within 1 to 2 weeks. Strenuous physical activities should be avoided for at least 3 to 4 weeks post-surgery.

6. Are there any risks associated with gynecomastia surgery?

As with any surgery, there are risks involved, including scarring, infection, or changes in nipple sensation. However, when performed by the best gynecomastia surgeon in Thane, complications are rare.

7. How much does male breast reduction surgery cost in Thane?

The gynecomastia surgery cost in Thane can vary depending on the complexity of the procedure, the technique used (liposuction vs. excision), and the surgeon’s experience. It’s best to consult with a gynecomastia surgery specialist to get an accurate estimate.

8. Is male breast reduction surgery covered by insurance?

In most cases, gynecomastia surgery is considered a cosmetic procedure, meaning it may not be covered by insurance. However, if the surgery is deemed medically necessary, such as when gynecomastia causes physical pain, part of the cost may be covered.

9. How can I prepare for male breast reduction surgery?

Before the surgery, you’ll have a consultation with your gynecomastia surgery specialist in Thane . They will guide you through the pre-surgical process, which may include blood tests, adjusting medications, and stopping smoking to ensure a smooth procedure and recovery.

10. How do I choose the best gynecomastia surgeon in Thane?

When selecting the best gynecomastia surgeon in Thane, look for a board-certified surgeon with extensive experience in performing male breast reduction surgeries. Check patient reviews, before-and-after photos, and ask questions during your consultation to ensure you’re comfortable with your choice.

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cosmetic-choice · 2 years ago

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Online directory to access top surgeons near you | Cosmetic choice

Cosmetic choice is an online directory to get you list of cosmetic plastic surgeons in a place, & save time. Browse best service provider according to your need & budget. Just visit cosmetic choice for more info!!

#healthcare service providers #top health care providers #healthcare provider solution #top ten best plastic surgeons #best plastic surgeons near me #cosmetic surgery providers #best reviewed plastic surgeons #list of cosmetic surgeons #Cosmetic healthcare providers #healthcare providers of plastic surgery #cosmetic surgery solution #specialized clinics #online marketplace for healthcare services

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cosmeticchoice · 2 years ago

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#healthcare service providers #top healthcare providers #healthcare provider solution #top ten best plastic surgeons #best plastic surgeons near me #cosmetic surgery providers #best-reviewed plastic surgeons #list of cosmetic surgeons #Cosmetic healthcare providers #healthcare providers of plastic surgery #cosmetic surgery solution #specialized clinics #online marketplace for healthcare services

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maheshnadgir · 29 days ago

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Male Breast Reduction Surgery in Thane – Effective Solutions for Gynecomastia

FAQs

1. What is male breast reduction surgery?

2. What causes gynecomastia?

Gynecomastia can be caused by hormonal imbalances, obesity, genetics, certain medications, or medical conditions. It’s a common condition that affects men of all ages.

3. Who is a good candidate for male breast reduction surgery in Thane?

4. How is male breast reduction surgery performed?

The surgery can involve liposuction to remove excess fat, excision to remove glandular tissue, or a combination of both. The method used depends on the individual case and the type of gynecomastia.

5. What is the recovery time for male breast reduction surgery?

Recovery time varies, but most patients can resume normal activities within 1 to 2 weeks. Strenuous physical activities should be avoided for at least 3 to 4 weeks post-surgery.

6. Are there any risks associated with gynecomastia surgery?

7. How much does male breast reduction surgery cost in Thane?

8. Is male breast reduction surgery covered by insurance?

9. How can I prepare for male breast reduction surgery?

10. How do I choose the best gynecomastia surgeon in Thane?

0 notes