NINETY-NINE.

“Please, Miss Bishop. There is so much we have to discuss and time is very limited.” The kind doctor insists.

Sighing, “all right, this doesn't sound too promising.” I say as I sit back in the armchair.

I watch as the doctor walks around her badly damaged desk and sits in her office chair, which looks very outdated as well.

She places the small pile of papers down on the desk and moves the mouse to her computer. I wait in silence as I watch her, wishing she would hurry and skip straight to the point.

“Okay,” she breathes out as she raises her gaze to meet mine. “The blood work came back, and you are very well, indeed, pregnant.” She pauses as she waits for my reaction.

“Pre-pregnant?” I stutter as if the two-syllable word has always been difficult for me to say.

“Yes, pregnant.” She states firmly. “When was the last time you had a menstrual cycle?”

I think back, “the last time was about six months ago. They aren't regular, so I paid it no attention.”

“Mmm-hmm,” the doct