CHAPTER 133: Dr. Okafor

POV: Selene Castellano

She made the call on Sunday morning while Avalon was in the shower.

Dr Okafor answered on the third ring.

“I wondered when you’d call,” she said.

“Is that unprofessional?” Selene said.

“Probably,” Dr Okafor said. “But Dr Ruth told me enough that I’ve been thinking about you. How are you?”

“Ready,” Selene said. “I think.”

“Tell me what ready means to you.”

“It means I’m not trying to outrun something,” she said. “I’m not trying to fix something or prove something. I want to try.”

“That’s a good reason,” Dr Okafor said. “Come in this week. We’ll talk properly, run some baseline checks, and go from there.”

“No guarantees,” Selene said.

She told Avalon over breakfast.

“This week?”  he asked.

“Maybe on Wednesday. It's just for consultation tho.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I know you are,” she said.

He picked up his coffee again and went back to his phone.

Wednesday arrived fast.

The clinic was on the UCSF campus, clean and calm.

Dr Okafor was younger than Selene expected, she looked to be in her early forties. 

She shook Avalon’s hand then Selene’s and said: “Tell me your history. All of it. Don’t edit.”

So Selene told her everything.

The first pregnancy at twenty-two. Alone. The classification. What Dr Ruth had told her about the four minutes.

Dr Okafor listened without writing anything down.

When Selene finished, Dr Okafor said: “What you experienced was traumatic and the medical system failed to acknowledge it at the time. I want you to know that before we talk about anything clinical.”

Selene hadn’t expected that.

She felt Avalon’s hand find hers on the armrest.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Now,” Dr Okafor said, opening her laptop. “Let’s talk about what’s possible.”

They were there for ninety minutes.

Dr Okafor explained what she’d want to monitor, what the process would look like, and what the realistic picture would be, given Selene’s age and history.

“The honest answer,” she said at the end, “is that I don’t know. I can give you statistics but you’re not a statistic. What I can tell you is that your body is healthy, your history doesn’t present the barriers some people come in with, and you have a strong support system.” She paused. “Those things matter more than people think.”

“When do we start,” Avalon said.

Dr Okafor looked at Selene.

“When you’re ready,” she said.

“I’m ready,” Selene said.

Outside, walking to the car, neither of them spoke for a moment.

Then Avalon said: “She looked at you when she asked.”

“Yes.”

“She's a good doctor,” he said.

“Yes, she is,”  Selene said.

They got in the car.

He sat for a moment before starting it.

“Are you scared?”  he asked.

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

“But?”

“No buts, we will be hopeful”

She looked at him and he started the car.

That evening Maya called.

“How was the appointment?” she asked.

Selene stopped. “How did you know?”

“You had that look on Sunday,” Maya said. “The one where you’ve already decided something and you’re just waiting for the world to catch up.”

“I don’t have a look.”

“You absolutely have a look.”

Selene almost laughed.

“It went well,” she said. “We’re starting the process.”

Maya was quiet for a moment.

“Lena.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re about to say something that makes me cry.”

“I was going to say congratulations,” Maya said. “And that Elena would be so—”

“Maya.”

“Okay,” Maya said. “Okay. Congratulations. That’s all. Just that.”

“Thank you,” Selene said.

She hung up.

Her phone lit up.

A text from Dr Okafor.

Your bloodwork appointment is confirmed for Friday. One step at a time.

Selene read it, put the phone face down on the cushion.

One step at a time. She doesn't know if she should be happy or scared or maybe both.