Babies

EMERALD

I made it through bed rest with only a mild case of cabin fever. And by “mild” I mean I was sprinting out of the building like it was on fire when I finally got permission from Warden Tate.

But only to the car, where he then promptly took me back to the doctor for a follow-up.

Tate ended up hiring Macy, but only after she was comfortable enough to come in. And no. He didn’t care that I had used his card to buy her groceries.

She did, however, count it as part of her hiring bonus and had it taken out of the overall amount.

I felt better having her there instead of someone like Candy, who was more boob than brain and kept eye fucking ~my~ man when she thought I wasn’t there.

She was also great at her job, arranging Tate’s schedule around my appointment today without leaving him crowded for the next few days.

My leg bounced under the paper sheet as we waited for the doctor to come in, and Tate reached over to stop it before taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Everything is fine, Shrimp,” he said. “It’s just a sonogram.”

“What if they find something wrong? What are the odds of that, anyhow?” I asked him.

“Low, baby. The odds are low. The blood work they took last time would have told them ~before~ now,” he said.

“But there are things they can’t test for right now, right? What about those?” I bit on my bottom lip.

“There you go, stressing out again.” He sighed, pulling my lip from my teeth with his thumb. “There’s no reason to believe that something is wrong, okay?”

“I’m starting to freak out, Tate,” I whimpered. “I’ve been drinking between my birthday and finding out. What if I fucked something up?”

“I’m not a doctor, baby. I’m flattered that you think I have all the answers, but I actually don’t.” He smiled.

“This is serious, Tate.” I frowned at him.

“Then ask Dr. Moore.” He nodded. “I want to know when you’re worried about something, but I can only tell you how to start the process of making a baby and how it ends. Everything else is her department.”

“I’m beginning to dislike your gender-based exclusion from this process.” I glared at him.

Tate bit his lips in an effort to laugh, which wasn’t helping him and only made me mad; the knock on the door saved him.

“Well, good to see you aren’t passed out this time,” Dr. Moore teased. “Your blood pressure is still slightly elevated.”

“She’s not usually this uptight,” Tate defended me.

“I expected it to be a little high, but it’s still well within limits I’m okay with, so long as you don’t have any more fainting, dizziness, blurry vision, things like that.”

“The unexpected news usually has new mothers wound up for a few weeks or so. I also talked to the front desk and I’m thinking that your blood pressure reading should be taken with a grain of salt.”

“How so?” Tate asked.

“Well, I think it’s the location.” She gestured around to the office. “According to the front desk, she didn’t seem to be overly agitated when you two first came in the first time, or today, for that matter.

“But now…well, I don’t blame you for being on edge right now. But I am going to warn you that if we don’t try to get that under control soon, it could cause problems later.

“You should look into ways to manage your stress and discomfort, like maybe yoga.

“There are classes geared to pregnant women. They adjust the moves the farther along you get since your mobility is going to be hindered in the later months.

“There’s also meditation, aroma therapy, pregnancy-safe massage. I wouldn’t discount breathing exercises, either.” She smiled.

“I’ll do what I can.” I nodded.

“Your tests are coming in completely normal, and everything looks great on the clinical side of things.” She smiled. “How are things at home? Bed rest went okay?”

“It was a cruel and unusual punishment, and I do not want to do that again,” I said flatly.

“Yeah, no one likes bed rest.” She chuckled.

“There was a rough start,” Tate said. “Mostly my fault.”

I growled at him slightly, and he laughed.

“Okay, it was entirely my fault. I kind of went a bit overboard getting rid of the food we can’t eat now,” he admitted.

“The entire kitchen, I assume?” Dr. Moore chuckled. “It’s pretty easy for dads, or even biological mothers, in the case of surrogates, to kind of go too far in preparation for a baby.

“It’s great that you’re being cautious, but my advice would be to remember you have nine months of this. Time to space out the neurotic moments and thin them down.

“So, I’m a little different from other doctors. Most of my colleagues won’t do sonograms this early unless there’s a question that needs to be answered, like how far along you are or if there’s something that indicates a problem.

“Your blood work confirms that you are right about your birthday, and there’s nothing at all that suggests there might be something wrong. I like to do sonograms early, mostly for Mom.”

“I don’t…understand.” I frowned.

“Well, even the women who try to have a baby can sometimes feel disconnected. They have all the information saying it’s real but are having a hard time reconciling that information with reality,” she said.

“Most of the time, this resolves itself by the second trimester, but I find it more proactive to give a bit of a jump start to the process by showing my new mommas the little life inside.”

“I think I’m still in the shocked stage of all of this,” I admitted as she helped me lay back and roll the bottom of my gown up, tucking a towel into the top of my panties.

“I’ve seen the gamut of emotions from joy to fear to severe depression.” She nodded as she made sure the gel was warm and signed into the computer on the trolley that was tucked in the corner.

“Pregnancy supercharges your hormones, and, unfortunately, those little buggers aren’t in the business of playing nice.”

“Oh this doesn’t sound terrible at all,” Tate muttered.

“Shut up, gender-excluded parent.” I huffed.

“We are not making that a thing,” he said flatly.

“Too late. It’s a thing.” I flopped my head back on the paper-covered table.

Dr. Moore chuckled and squirted some goo on my stomach before pressing the wand down. A few seconds later and she was clicking away on the keyboard and mouse, making notes on the images.

“Okay. Here is your little one,” she said after a few minutes. “That fluttering part is the heart.”

“It takes up the whole body.” Tate grinned.

“The heart is the first organ that begins to form since it has such a huge job to do. Right now, your baby is mostly heart cells, but considering that it’s about the size of a grain of rice…” She shrugged and let it hang.

“Unless we do a transvaginal ultrasound, you won’t hear the heartbeat for another few weeks still. Normally, I wouldn’t mind doing it, but with your stress levels, I think we’ll avoid it for now.”

“Is it bad?” Tate asked as Dr. Moore cleaned off the wand and then my belly.

“No. It’s a common fear that things happening ~down~ ~there~ can cause problems or hurt the baby, but it’s not likely in a healthy pregnancy.”

She smiled. “Right now, your little one is sitting all cozy in a sea of padding. Short of severe external trauma, there’s not much that’s going to hurt it.

“The biggest concern at this point is nutrition. The first trimester is when the most rapid growth happens as your baby goes from being a cluster of cells to having the beginnings of organs and bones.”

“Don’t worry. With Pill Pusher over there, I’m never going to forget my vitamins for the rest of my life.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m not apologizing for that.” He chuckled.

“Tate, the world would crumble to ash before you apologize for being overbearing.” I smiled at him, my heart warm and happy.

The rest of the appointment went well, and we walked out of the building with a little picture of our baby.

“If you keep staring at it like that, I’m turning around and having you admitted for shock,” Tate said, putting his hand on my knee in the car.

“It’s so small,” I said, turning it around to show him. “She said the size of a grain of rice.”

“It won’t be small forever, you know.” He smiled and turned back to the road.

“I know. Oh my god.” I put my hand over my mouth. “Tate. I haven’t told Mom or Lance yet!”

“Your brother is going to kill me.” He looked at me wide-eyed and pale.

“Lucky you can run faster than he can roll, so…use that to your advantage while you can.” I made a face.

“That’s dark, but I will take that bit of wisdom to heart. Should we do it now or tomorrow? Or just show up with a baby in a few months?

“I vote for running away and changing our names. We’ll go to Switzerland and be Helga and Olaf.”

“First, I am ~not~ a Helga, and you are nothing like an Olaf.” I laughed. “And I couldn’t make it in Switzerland. I can’t eat cheese, remember?”

“Damn.” He smirked again.

“We can deal with it tomorrow. I just want to go home and eat some pie.” I sighed.

“We should talk about that, actually.” He chuckled.

“Touch my pie and I will end you.” I glared at him.

“Can we maybe put rules on it? You can’t have pie for breakfast. Or at three in the morning.” He gave me a look.

“Hey! You were sleeping!” I gasped.

“Not when you elbowed me in the ribs to get out of bed.” He laughed. “I thought there was a fire or something because you moved so fast.”

“And you didn’t get up? How considerate.” I rolled my eyes.

“The alarms would have gone off, Shrimp. So, which one did you eat?”

“Blueberry. And blackberry. And the last apple,” I admitted.

“Okay. Note to self: get more pie.” He snorted as his phone rang through the Bluetooth connection. “What is it?”

“Leo,” came Vince’s voice, and I sighed.

“What now?” Tate groaned.

“He’s demanding a paternity test for you and Devon,” he said.

“What?” I made a face. “That seems like a reach in the dark.”

“Not when he claims there’s proof that Elinor was having an affair for years that produced both Tate and Devon,” Vince said.

“This is absurd.” Tate laughed. “~That’s~ what he’s falling back on?”

I frowned as the two spoke some more until I reached over and grabbed Tate’s sleeve.

“He’s got something,” I said, looking over at him. “He’s found something that’s solid because a lie didn’t work last time.

“He’s been playing like he’s biding his time, but he’s been moving pieces around the whole time, trying to set up a path for the checkmate.”

“My mother wouldn’t have an affair.” He frowned.

“Maybe not, but Leo has ~something~,” I said.

There was silence for a while as we drove until the drumming of Tate’s fingers on the steering wheel grew loud enough for me to hear.

“She may have had an affair,” he said. “At least…with Devon, she may have.”

“Legally, it wouldn’t matter, though.” I put my hand on his leg. “Your birth certificate says that Evan is your father. That makes you a King.”

“In name only,” Vince interjected. “When it comes to succession, unless there’s an heir named, everything goes to the next of kin, as in blood relative. The will states age, marital status, reputation but no actual names.”

“You could ask your mother?” I tried, and Vince snorted.

“That woman is evil incarnate, Shrimp.” Tate shook his head. “She’s as black and twisted inside as they come, but she holds her image in high regard. She’ll deny everything.”

“We need to know what we’re walking into with this.” Vince sighed.

“I agree. I can see the board and the pieces, but I can’t find the strategy.” I frowned. “We can play it out, but by the time I see it, it’ll likely be too late.”

“I’ll get in touch with Elinor’s lawyer and see what I can do.” Vince sighed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll trick Macy into a date for you.” I giggled.

“Really?” He sounded hopeful.

“For the love of god, don’t talk about bread or I’ll hit you.” I laughed.

“I told you not to mention that!” he snapped and hung up.

“What was ~that~ about?” Tate asked.