So the two of them ended up sharing a bed, though Dr. Ludwig slept with his back to her. Watching his tense, hunched shoulders, Ivy couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to herself. She closed her eyes and soon drifted off again.
The side effects of the HIV post–exposure medication were anything but subtle. Nausea and vomiting topped the list. Jamison had told her about a doctor in their department who’d once been exposed to an HIV patient and had to take the same meds for a month as a precaution. He was fine in the end–no infection, all clear. But during that month, the poor guy was so sick he was constantly running to the bathroom, retching like a woman with morning sickness. The whole staff found it hilarious.
Now, Ivy was right there with him. A week into her course, the nausea hit her hard. Her body was already weak; she needed proper nutrition after surgery to recover. But with her appetite gone and her stomach rebelling, eating became a chore. Most days, Jamison had to coax her to take even a few bites, and she forced herself to eat, not wanting him to worry.
This dragged on for more than two weeks before Ivy finally blurted out, “Are you sure it’s just the meds?”
Jamison brought her a glass of water and grinned. “What else could it be?”
After sipping her water, Ivy lay down, turning her head to glance at her husband. “It’s just… we did try, you know, and that was right around my ovulation. Do you think–could it be…?”
It was a faint hope, hardly logical, but she couldn’t shake the thought. Could this be early pregnancy?
Jamison laughed. “You’re overthinking it. Even if, by some miracle, it worked that night, it’s only been a couple of weeks. You wouldn’t feel a thing yet.” At this stage, even a test kit might not show anything–only a blood test could confirm it.
Ivy was quiet for a moment. “Should we check, just in case?”
Chapter 66
Jamison looked at her, clearly puzzled by this sudden idea. He sat down, took her hand, and said gently, “Let’s not get carried away. It’s impossible. And even if, by some stretch, you were pregnant… we couldn’t keep the baby.”
She’d been seriously injured, her spine fractured, her spleen removed. Even if she wanted to get pregnant, she would need at least a year or more of recovery–and that only if she had round–the–clock care. Otherwise, it would be far too dangerous for her.
Ivy hadn’t thought of any of this. Jamison’s words left her stunned and silent.
“Come on,” he said softly, “while you’re feeling alright, try to sleep. I’ll be down the hall if you need me.” He gave instructions to the nurse on duty, then slipped out.
But Ivy couldn’t sleep.
Once an idea takes root–even a ridiculous one–it has a way of circling around and around in your mind, growing stronger with every turn. Still, she remembered Jamison’s words and silently hoped it would amount to nothing. Otherwise, losing the baby would only add to her pain.
Bedridden days dragged on, dull and endless. To pass the time, Ivy had Katrina bring her a stack of books. One afternoon, Katrina finished unloading the books and sat beside her, slicing up some fruit and feeding Ivy piece by piece.
Ivy noticed the troubled look on her friend’s face. After watching her for a while, she finally teased, “What’s wrong? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else. Tired of waiting on me already?”
She was only half joking. These days, she couldn’t take care of herself at all–meals, bathroom, everything had to be handled in bed. It was embarrassing, really.
Katrina snapped out of her thoughts and quickly shook her head. “Of course not! It’s not every day I get to take care of you. Usually when I come by, Dr. Ludwig’s always around. I’m afraid to even chat with you too much in case he gets annoyed or thinks I’m disturbing your recovery.”
“Don’t mind him,” Ivy grumbled, though her tone was more fond than annoyed. “He’s practically a basket case. Half the time I wake up at night, I catch him just sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at me. It’s creepy as hell.” She laughed, but there was a bittersweet edge to it–part grateful, part aching.