I took photos of every prenatal checkup report I'd had since the beginning of my pregnancy and uploaded them all to cloud storage.
I remembered what had happened in my last life. After the baby disappeared, I'd gone home looking for those reports.
Every single one was gone.
Even the hospital's surveillance footage had no record of me.
Still not satisfied, I went to a photography studio and booked a full maternity photoshoot.
During the session, I had them film plenty of behind-the-scenes footage too, clearly capturing me and my very pregnant belly from every angle.
Only then did I feel a sliver of calm.
Next, I called my mom.
"Mom, I'm craving your sweet and sour ribs."
"Sure, I'll make a batch and send them over. A pregnant woman's got to eat well."
"Mom, do you remember how far along I am?"
"Seven months! Honestly, sweetheart, you think your own mother would forget?"
I recorded the entire conversation.
In my last life, my mother had told the police, to their faces, that I'd never been pregnant.
This time, no matter what happened, these recordings couldn't just vanish into thin air. Right?
The scheduled checkup time arrived.
Burton went to stand in line to pay, and I sat on a bench in the hallway waiting for him.
A young woman in a pink nurse's uniform walked over. She glanced at my belly and smiled.
"Belly's sitting so high and pointy. I'd bet good money it's a boy."
Burton had just finished paying and came back in time to catch her words. He jumped right in.
"Boy or girl, doesn't matter. If it's a boy, we'll protect Mommy together. If it's a girl, I'll protect both my ladies."
The nurse covered her mouth and laughed. "Oh my, your husband is such a sweetheart."
I couldn't laugh. I remembered this nurse.
In my last life, she'd said the exact same thing. Belly's so pointy, probably a boy.
But after the baby vanished and I came back to the hospital to find her, she'd looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.
"Ma'am, are you sure you're not mistaken? You came in for a general physical, not a prenatal checkup."
This time, I quietly opened my phone and recorded what she'd just said.
The exam room was on the third floor. The doctor performing my ultrasound was a middle-aged woman in glasses, early forties, with a calm, gentle demeanor.
In my last life, she'd been the one who examined me too.
Later, after the baby was gone, I'd stormed into the hospital to confront her. She'd stared at me, utterly baffled.
"Ma'am, I've never seen you before. Are you sure you have the right person?"
But I remembered perfectly. She was the one who'd done my checkup.
I stared at her face now. She was bent over the equipment, adjusting the settings, completely unaware of my expression.
"All right, lie down and lift your shirt."
I lay back. The probe glided across my skin, and a familiar little silhouette appeared on the screen.
"Looking good," the doctor said. "Head circumference is running slightly large. Watch your diet and make sure the baby doesn't get too big."
I stared at the screen, my eyes stinging with tears.
"Doctor, could I take a photo with you?"
She blinked, surprised. I rushed to explain. "First-time mom. I want to document everything."
She smiled. "Of course. Come on."
I pulled out my phone, opened the camera, and leaned in beside her.
Click. The photo was taken.
I looked down at the screen. The doctor's face. My face. The ultrasound image glowing behind us. All there, crystal clear.
This time, if any of that happens again, I'd like to see you try to deny it.
When I came out of the exam room, I made a point of finding that nurse again.
"Nurse Lawrence, could we take a picture together?" I held up my phone. "I'm putting together a little prenatal vlog. Something to remember this by."
Virginia Lawrence was more than happy to oblige. "Where's your husband? Have him take a full-length shot of you."
Burton was pulled over, and he snapped several photos of me standing beside Nurse Lawrence.
