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NINETY TWO

We walked into the hospital, with Samantha asking the nurse for an assistant to the gynaecologist’s office, which she was kind enough to direct us to, since the hospital was a big one. We got into the elevator, pressing the third floor as it took us up.

When we got to our designated floor, we met another nurse, and she asked us to wait at the sitting area while she confirmed our appointment.

"Dr. Alysa is ready to see you." The nurse directed us into a cozy office. In front of us stood a mid-aged woman in a white doctor's coat with a reading glass at the tip of her nose.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Alysa. It's nice to meet you." She pulled her hand forward for a handshake, which we gladly accepted. She waved us to a seat before taking hers across from us.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" she asks, and my gaze shifts from Samantha to her.

"I have been feeling quite nauseated recently, constantly vomiting every morning, and my body feels weak. I took a pregnancy test, and it confirmed I was pregnan
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