Or, maybe, what she really wished was that she had a partner to go through all of this with her. Resting her hand on her belly, she wondered when she'd feel the baby move. Hopelessly eager, every pocket of gas, tweaked muscle, you name it – she braced and held her breath, hoping...
And wasn't that something she should share with the baby's father?
Fathers, an evil voice whispered in her mind.
Somehow she managed, with Josie's help, to get up on that torture table. Reclining on her back pushed her womb against her bladder, making her instantly homicidal.
“Oh, man, can't I pee? Please?”
“Just a few minutes,” the tech said, then explained the procedure. She hiked up her maternity shirt, a cute print from the Gap. Shopping for maternity clothing had turned out to be liberating, because the designers expected you to have breasts and a belly! Her shirt was covered with hippie swirls of pinks and turquoises, with lots of white thrown in. The panel on her maternity jeans was a pale blue, stretchy jersey added where the zipper and button normally would be.
She wanted to wear these clothes forever.
Maybe you will, if you can't lose the baby fat, that same voice said. Gah.
The cold gel made her kegels clench, helping keep in her urine but adding a sensory overload to that general region. The ultrasound wand the tech used went on the gel and soon she could see her little peanut, all bones and beating heart, floating upside down in an an enormous sea of black.
“There's the baby,” the tech said in a neutral voice, taking measurements. From the start, Laura had decided to have a low-technology birth, so this was the first ultrasound. Meeting her baby visually brought tears to her eyes, her heart swelling, and even Josie was overcome with emotion.
“Oh, Laura,” she whispered, voice choked. She squeezed her shoulder.
Her child. That womb pressing hard against all that water, making her eyes cross and her ribs ache, contained a little growing human being that was going to come out in twenty-one weeks and be her little, precious baby.
“Boy or girl?” Leave it to Josie to get to the point.
The tech laughed, obviously accustomed to the question. “First off, do you want to know?”
“Yes!” the women answered in unison.
“Then give me a few minutes to do the required measurements, and then I'll try to see. No guarantees – it's all about whether the fetus is in the right position, and what we can see with the machine.” Laura nodded and Josie seemed already to know that. The room was so tiny that Josie had to jockey for space with the tech. And it was getting warmer in here. Plus, she felt like an overstretched balloon that would burst if anyone breathed hard.
Loving warmth coursed through her. Baby. Her body, which she'd despised most of her life for its inadequacies, for letting her down time and again with men, was now ripe with purpose and growing a human being. How could she hate it right now? It was building, layer by layer, system by system, a whole 'nother human who would be part of the next generation.
She was a goddess!
Finally done with measurements, the tech stopped, frowned, and said, “Excuse me. I'll be right back.” The click of the closing door felt like a death sentence, the air sucked out of the room as Laura's entire body switched into panic mode.
“That can't be good? Why would he leave? Do you see anything?” Oh, God, no. Just no. Nothing could be wrong, right? She hadn't planned for anything to be wrong.
Josie peered at the screen. She shrugged. Non-chalant and cool, she made a questioning face and replied, “I don't see anything obvious, but I'm not an ultrasound tech.” Her hand on Laura's felt reassuring. “I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe all your talk about peeing made him need to go.”
“Don't make me laugh or I'll give you a golden shower, Josie.”
“Now you're turning me on.” The laugh did make her nearly pee, giving her a few fleeting seconds of amusement, shifting away from worry. A knock, then her midwife came in, followed by the tech.
Fuck.
“Sheri? What are you doing here. They said this was just a routine screening and I wouldn't see you.” What she wanted to say was Go away! Nothing's wrong Nothing can be wrong so go away and let me not hear what you're about to say! but something in her knew that wasn't the case. She gripped Josie's hand like she was drowning.
Josie gripped back.
Sheri's eyes were kind but guarded, wrinkles forming everywhere as she smiled. Somewhere in her sixties, she had a relaxed, natural look to her, with dark brown eyes, tanned skin and long, grey hair braided in a thick rope that stretched over her ass. Today she wore a loose, flowing jacket over a tank top and a long skirt, an outfit not unlike many in Laura's closet.
“The tech just asked me to take a quick look at something.” Her voice was smooth and practiced. Josie nodded, eyes on Laura, her professional nurse face in overdrive. They were all hiding something from Laura, and she did not like this one bit. Sheri introduced herself to Josie and they shook hands in a perfunctory way.
The midwife and tech put their heads together and murmured medical terms Laura strained to hear. She really was about to explode, her vagina starting to pulsate – and not the good kind of pulsating.
“I need to pee!” she whispered to Josie. How banal, to have such an insignificant need in the middle of what could be the worst news she'd ever heard in her life. Yet nature called.
The tech and Sheri pulled back, the tech leaving the room. Sheri's hand was warm and gentle on Laura's shoulder. “First, the baby is healthy according to our basic measurements.”
A huge, loud sigh poured out of Laura, like a yoga breath. “Thank God.”
“But it's a bit complicated.”
No!
“Right now, you're on the high end of amniotic fluid. There's a condition called polyhydramnios – it literally means excessive amniotic fluid. Your measurements show you are at the low end of having this condition, which means the fetus is just floating in all that fluid, like an overstuffed balloon.”
“Are you sure that's not just my bladder?”
Sheri laughed and reached out to grip Laura's hand. “Why don't you go and empty that poor, overstretched balloon and we can talk more. All the images we need are done.”
Laura started to get up and stopped. “The sex?”
Sheri cocked her head and made a face of surprise. “Oh! James didn't get to that before he found me. You want to know?”
“Yes!” she and Josie practically shouted.
Chuckle. “Well, then, if you can bear it, lean back again and let's look.”
Groaning, Laura complied, the pressure to urinate overwhelming her mind and body. This was crucial, though. Boy or girl? She'd wanted to know since the day the test said PREGNANT.
More gel. Wand. Gouging (not really, but it felt like it). Jiggle. “Why are you jiggling?” And then she knew, as the baby moved and shifted, trying to get away.
“Well, this is not an exact science.” Josie snorted. Sheri made a self-deprecating gesture. “I am, though, ninety percent certain it's a girl.”
Girl.
“I don't see the telltale penis I'd expect to see. Just the umbilical cord. The only time we're certain is at the birth.”
Girl. Laura had imagined the baby was a girl since day one. She was right. It really was. Mother's instinct always knew, right?
“Are you OK, Laura?” Sheri asked.
She shook herself out of her own thoughts and grinned. “I assumed it was a girl. I was right.” She stuck her tongue out at Josie, who had teased her she was wrong.
“You and Josie are having a baby girl,” Sheri said, looking at them both with great joy.
Hold up. “Me and Josie?”
“Awkward,” Josie said out of one side of her mouth. She addressed Sheri. “Um, we're not – ” she said, pointing between her and Laura.
“Oh, no! No, we're not a couple!” Laura added.
“If I were into women, Laura's totally not my type,” Josie added helpfully.
Hey, now. “What does that mean?” Laura cried out, indignant.
Sheri cut them both off, her face red with embarrassment. “I certainly did not mean to start an argument, and I apologize for my assumption. And Laura, you did mention that the father isn't part of the picture – ”
“Fathers,” Josie muttered. Laura cut her a glare that would kill Medusa. Sheri clicked a few buttons on the machine and printed some pictures, handing them to Laura. On slick fax paper, they were the most beautiful photos she had ever seen in her entire life, even if her baby did resemble something from a government archive in an episode of The X Files.
“So I'll leave you with this: your chart looks strong; All the lab work is perfect, and while you are technically overweight, and could technically reach obesity during this pregnancy, depending on total weight gain, you don't have gestational diabetes, your cholesterol and other lab values are well within range, and frankly, Laura, you're healthier than many average-weight women I see.” Picking Sheri had been smart.
“Does this mean I can still birth in the hospital with a midwife?”
“For now, yes. We can't predict what will come next, but given the information we have now, you're not risked out of a midwife birth.”
Pleased as punch, Laura simply said, “Thank you!” Josie appeared suitably impressed. The feel of the paper in her hands gave her a happiness she hadn't felt in months. Not since her last night with the guys.
“This does, though, explain some of your added weight gain, some of it excess fluid. At this point, we'll have you come back in three to four weeks and do another measurement to check fluid. You may find that as you expand, your mobility is a bit limited; if the polyhydramnios continues, it makes you look and feel as if you are further along than you are.”
“Is that why I look seven months pregnant but I'm barely at five?”
Sheri nodded. “It explains some of it. So call if you feel like anything is off, or if you have any fluid leakage or spotting. Right now, in the second trimester, measurements can change, so for this month we wait and see. If it persists, we'll do some tests to see if we can find an underlying cause.”
Each word made sense. Understanding the basics of this polywhatever wasn't hard. But the screaming voice in her head that kept shouting wrong wrong wrong wrong made it hard to fully digest what Sheri was saying.
“I don't feel well,” Laura blurted. Josie and Sheri closed in.
“Go empty your bladder. We'll help you.”
“The day I need help peeing is the day I – ”
“Give birth,” Josie interrupted.
Nasty glare. “Go find another woman. I'm so done with you. And you're not my type, either.” Sheri seemed more amused now by their banter as she and Josie followed Laura down the hall to the single-stall toilet.
“I don't need help,” Laura announced, opening the door and stepping into the same room she'd peed in for months now. Tears filled her eyes in the silent little tile-filled space. Something was wrong. Too much fluid? Sheri's explanation made sense, and the baby was otherwise healthy. She. She was otherwise healthy.
A little girl.
Daddy's little girl.
Which daddy? Her bladder groaned in ecstasy as she released its contents, the entire process taking about four times longer than usual. Ah, what pregnancy did to the body. Never before had she considered how nearly-orgasmic going pee could feel.