Google clinics."
We're in Norfolk, Virginia, and it is bloody hot. We take a taxi to the clinic Marcus identified online. By the time we get there, the cigarette smoke and body odors in the cab, as well as the heat, get to me. As soon as we walk into the clinic, I'm seeking out a bathroom. Spotting the now-familiar women's toilets, I bolt as Marcus signs us in. Forty-five minutes later, we're discussing my symptoms and the pregnancy test results with the young, Hispanic doctor. She gives us a friendly smile and orders urine and blood tests for me. When she comes back with my chart, she smiles again.
"Congratulations, mom and dad! You are definitely pregnant. I'll need to conduct a pelvic exam so I can estimate your baby's approximate conception date."
I give Dr. Martinez the date of my last menstrual period. I am obsessive about that, so I know it very well. With that and the uncomfortable pelvic exam, she tells me that I am about four months pregnant. My eyes widen. How could I have gone so long without knowing? I tell her about my sadness and difficulty adjusting when Marcus was still in England.
"Will that hurt my baby?"
"Not likely. How did you eat? Did you drink alcohol? Use drugs?"
"I ate. I've always loved food. No booze or drugs - although, before we left England, we did visit a pub a few times."
"As long as drinking isn't a daily occurrence and you're abstaining now, your little one is very likely to be just fine. But, because of the link between alcohol and fetal alcohol syndrome, you'll want to stay completely away from any kind of liquor. No illicit drugs, either."
"Oh, definitely not. I'm a member of a The Lonely Lovers and we have a strict zero tolerance policy on drugs."
"I'm going to your concert tonight, actually! My fiance and I bought tickets as soon as we heard you had set up a tour here in the U.S.," says Dr. Martinez.
"Oh, bless you! You are going totally going to enjoy some of our new music!"
"Thank you! Now, you need to start putting weight on. Your baby needs all the nutrients he or she can get, so whatever your stomach tolerates, eat it. Spicy and greasy foods, as well as caffeine are out."
I thank her and even call in a favor to get her a couple VIP passes for the show. After giving me a list of the foods I could eat, as well as prenatal vitamins, the doctor congratulates us once again and Marcus and I return to our room. We have ten minutes to make it downstairs to meet the rest of the band to go to practice.
"Can we stop for some snacks?" I ask Tim.
"Sure. I'll let the driver know," he says, not thinking anything of my question.
Every couple hours, I stop, making sure to keep myself hydrated. I realize that I really do feel better, keeping food in my belly. I make it through the practice and we go back to the hotel. I need to nap, so I have a lie-down for several hours. When I wake up, we venture out into the humidity to find a restaurant - I am suddenly craving salads. After we order, Marcus calls Tim, letting him know where we are. I shake my head at him slightly, letting him know that I don't want to say anything to the band yet about my pregnancy.
"Marcus, we need crackers. And some fruit so I can snack," I tell him.
"We'll stop in a store on the way back to the hotel. Just make sure you take some food with you to the concert," he reminds me.
That night, even though I keep food on my belly, as soon as the intermission begins, I bolt backstage and lose my dinner in the bathroom. The band realizes what happened and they look at me in concern. It's time. I look at Marcus and we communicate silently with each other.
"Tim, Laslow, Linny...we need to talk," I start. We sit in the green room, where I carefully eat an apple and drink some warm tea. "I'm pregnant. I got the diagnosis today."
Laslow looks at his older brother and lets out a raucous whoop! Tim and Linny let out a laugh of relief.
"Oh, my God, thank God it's nothing more serious," says Tim. "I honestly thought you had
We're in Norfolk, Virginia, and it is bloody hot. We take a taxi to the clinic Marcus identified online. By the time we get there, the cigarette smoke and body odors in the cab, as well as the heat, get to me. As soon as we walk into the clinic, I'm seeking out a bathroom. Spotting the now-familiar women's toilets, I bolt as Marcus signs us in. Forty-five minutes later, we're discussing my symptoms and the pregnancy test results with the young, Hispanic doctor. She gives us a friendly smile and orders urine and blood tests for me. When she comes back with my chart, she smiles again.
"Congratulations, mom and dad! You are definitely pregnant. I'll need to conduct a pelvic exam so I can estimate your baby's approximate conception date."
I give Dr. Martinez the date of my last menstrual period. I am obsessive about that, so I know it very well. With that and the uncomfortable pelvic exam, she tells me that I am about four months pregnant. My eyes widen. How could I have gone so long without knowing? I tell her about my sadness and difficulty adjusting when Marcus was still in England.
"Will that hurt my baby?"
"Not likely. How did you eat? Did you drink alcohol? Use drugs?"
"I ate. I've always loved food. No booze or drugs - although, before we left England, we did visit a pub a few times."
"As long as drinking isn't a daily occurrence and you're abstaining now, your little one is very likely to be just fine. But, because of the link between alcohol and fetal alcohol syndrome, you'll want to stay completely away from any kind of liquor. No illicit drugs, either."
"Oh, definitely not. I'm a member of a The Lonely Lovers and we have a strict zero tolerance policy on drugs."
"I'm going to your concert tonight, actually! My fiance and I bought tickets as soon as we heard you had set up a tour here in the U.S.," says Dr. Martinez.
"Oh, bless you! You are going totally going to enjoy some of our new music!"
"Thank you! Now, you need to start putting weight on. Your baby needs all the nutrients he or she can get, so whatever your stomach tolerates, eat it. Spicy and greasy foods, as well as caffeine are out."
I thank her and even call in a favor to get her a couple VIP passes for the show. After giving me a list of the foods I could eat, as well as prenatal vitamins, the doctor congratulates us once again and Marcus and I return to our room. We have ten minutes to make it downstairs to meet the rest of the band to go to practice.
"Can we stop for some snacks?" I ask Tim.
"Sure. I'll let the driver know," he says, not thinking anything of my question.
Every couple hours, I stop, making sure to keep myself hydrated. I realize that I really do feel better, keeping food in my belly. I make it through the practice and we go back to the hotel. I need to nap, so I have a lie-down for several hours. When I wake up, we venture out into the humidity to find a restaurant - I am suddenly craving salads. After we order, Marcus calls Tim, letting him know where we are. I shake my head at him slightly, letting him know that I don't want to say anything to the band yet about my pregnancy.
"Marcus, we need crackers. And some fruit so I can snack," I tell him.
"We'll stop in a store on the way back to the hotel. Just make sure you take some food with you to the concert," he reminds me.
That night, even though I keep food on my belly, as soon as the intermission begins, I bolt backstage and lose my dinner in the bathroom. The band realizes what happened and they look at me in concern. It's time. I look at Marcus and we communicate silently with each other.
"Tim, Laslow, Linny...we need to talk," I start. We sit in the green room, where I carefully eat an apple and drink some warm tea. "I'm pregnant. I got the diagnosis today."
Laslow looks at his older brother and lets out a raucous whoop! Tim and Linny let out a laugh of relief.
"Oh, my God, thank God it's nothing more serious," says Tim. "I honestly thought you had
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