“How I look! I’m huge!”
Dr. Owens took a step back and tilted her head. “You said this was an emergency, Melissa. That usually means miscarriage, preterm labor, bleeding, pain, severe headache . . . Are you experiencing anything like that?”
“No. But I do feel like something’s wrong with me. The size of me. Could I be closer to full term than Lillie said?”
Dr. Owens sighed. “I doubt it. First, let’s get you on the scale.”
Melissa froze. The old woman, Caroline or something, had tried to get her weighed, but Melissa had refused.
“Now, please,” the doctor said.
Melissa slid off the table and got on, closing her eyes.
“One hundred and fifty-two.”
“No! That can’t be right!” She started crying yet again.
“Our scale is calibrated every week.” The doctor typed into the computer. “What was your pre-pregnancy weight?”
“A hundred and twenty-three,” she said. “I haven’t gained or lost a pound in ten years, Dr. Owens, I swear.”
“Mm-hmm. Well, you’re pregnant now. You’re supposed to gain weight. Not this much this fast, but we’ll get to that. Sit back down, please, and lie back.”
The doctor was faster than Lillie had been, her movements brisk. She felt around the “bump”—it felt squashy and fat now, not the firm little bump she’d wanted. She put something against her belly, and once again, Melissa heard that otherworldly wow-wow-wow of the baby’s heartbeat.
“You’re seventeen weeks along, according to the chart,” Dr. Owens said. “Do you want another ultrasound, or shall we wait for next week, when we have it scheduled? I’m getting the sense that you’re mostly upset with the weight gain.”
“I walk for an hour every day. Quite fast, too. I used to run, but . . . with these things, I can’t.” She gestured to her chest, mortified. “And I do yoga, too. Also every day. Well, at least four or five times a week.”
“Mm-hmm. And how are you eating?”
“Great! Fine! Really clean!” Well, that was partially true. She did eat healthy foods. And unhealthy foods, too.
“So, here’s the thing about pregnancy,” Dr. Owens said, sitting down in the rolling chair. Her eyes were lovely, so big and brown, but she could use some help with makeup, that was for sure. An eyebrow tutorial for starters. “You only need to eat about three hundred and fifty calories more per day. That phrase ‘eating for two’？” Melissa nodded. “It doesn’t mean you should double your calories. You’ve already gained thirty pounds”—did she have to say that in such a loud voice?—“and you’re less than halfway there. So obviously, you’ve been eating quite a bit more than you need.”
“But I’m so hungry,” Melissa said, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of the robe.
“You need to stick to the nutritional information we gave you, Melissa. But just to reiterate, three hundred and fifty calories is about half a cup of trail mix, the kind without the chocolate. An apple sliced up with a tablespoon of peanut butter. You can keep some hard-boiled eggs on hand for some additional protein.”
Yesterday, when she’d been alone in the house, after her kale and quinoa salad, Melissa made a fluffernutter sandwich on white bread. An hour later, she’d made scrambled eggs with Kraft shredded cheese. Lots of cheese. Just thinking about it made her feel famished for the food of her youth. Cheetos. Twinkies. Chick-fil-A and orange pop. Mee-Maw’s shoofly pie.
“We recommend about five small meals throughout the day,” Dr. Owens said, snapping her back to reality. “Lots of dark greens, like kale and spinach. Beans, broccoli, salmon, sweet potatoes, bananas . . . I can have Carol print out some recipes or recommend some good cookbooks.”
“What about my face?” Melissa asked. She sounded worse than Ophelia on a whiny day. “I’m breaking out. And my . . .” She gestured to her breasts. “They’re huge and weird and . . . there’s hair.” Her throat tightened to a whisper as tears flowed out of her eyes. “My shoes are tight. I think I have . . . I think I have cankles.” She sobbed, then clenched her Kegel muscles so she wouldn’t wet herself （again）。
Dr. Owens covered her mouth with her hand. “Mm. Yes, your feet can spread during pregnancy. Especially with a sudden weight gain like this.”
“Will I ever fit into my nice shoes again?” All those gorgeous shoes and boots that had made her legs look so fantastic . . .