HIS BY MISTAKE

It’s not his”

Dr. Ines Marchetti tells me, her voice and posture giving nothing away

My brows furrowed in confusion but the panic kicked in “what do you mean it’s not his?”

Just five hours ago I’d woken up with excitement twisting into nerves. Today was the day I found out if the baby was okay. Trent and I had spent three years trying, failing, grieving quietly in a marriage that had started to feel like a countdown. IVF had been our last option. Three rounds in, one had finally worked. Today was supposed to be the ultrasound that made it real.

The first few tries were hard and emotionally draining but one was finally successful, I was told to come back later weeks after the implantation to confirm the baby’s status and that was today.

“Say it again,” I swallowed, my heart beat sounding in my ears “Slowly. Because I need you to say words I actually understand.”

Ines exhaled like she’d been holding it since the results came back. “Fourteen months ago, this practice partnered with Wexler Fertility Center for overflow IVF storage during our lab renovation. Their system flagged a canister for disposal. It shouldn’t have been anywhere near your file. But a labeling error during their database migration crossed two client IDs, and when your intrauterine procedure was prepped—”

“You’re telling me somebody grabbed the wrong sample.”

“I’m telling you four safeguards failed in a row, and I am so sorry, and I need you to know I did not find out until an hour ago or I would already be screaming this at every lawyer I could reach.”

A laugh almost broke out of me, not because anything was funny, but because my body didn’t have a category to file this under. Ines was watching me carefully, waiting for me to breakdown, but I couldn’t feel my own hands.

When I calmed down I looked back I her. “So whose baby is it.”

Ines didn’t answer right away. And that, more than anything, was what made my stomach drop, because Ines Marchetti had never once in nine years failed to have an answer.

There’s a name on the original sample,” Ines finally said. “I need to make some calls before I say it out loud. But Noelle, the account it came from isn’t anonymous anymore. It’s attached to a foundation. A very recognizable foundation.” My brows furrowed. “Recognizable how?”

My stomach dropped before she could answer, my phone was already lighting up. It was Trent and I had to stay composed, he didn’t know I was at the hospital, I wanted to surprise him with the pregnancy news only to find out the baby isn’t his.

“Hey Noelle where are you?” Trent’s voice came over the phone, I held my voice from shaking or crying “I’m at the grocery store getting fruits you know the doctor said I should eat healthy”

I heard his chuckle and I felt my heart squeezing,holding back my sniffs “yeah okay tell me when you get home alright?”

“Alright”

“Alright, bye.”

The line went dead, and something in my chest went with it.

“Now what? What am I supposed to do?” I looked at her hoping for answers but none came.

“So you’re telling me my baby isn’t my baby.” I watched Ines tuck the folder against her chest like it could still protect someone.

She turned toward the door.

“Ines.” My voice cracked wide open. “Tell me the name.”