Whole Again Chapter 27 - Landry POV
We’d managed to finish all our paperwork before Doctor Johnson calls Jennifer’s name, taking our papers, and guiding us into one of the exam rooms. Doctor Joanna Johnson is the pack’s OB-GYN and the foremost expert on supernatural pregnancies. She’s studied them extensively to the point she’s sometimes called out to other packs to assist the expecting mothers there with their pregnancies, so we’re very lucky to have her. She’s 5’6” with long auburn hair, and bangs curtained to the sides of her forehead. She has rich chestnut eyes, warm peachy skin, a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks, a square face, and strong Asian-American features due to her mother being Korean and father being American. She has a very slender frame and is wearing a white button-down long-sleeve shirt and grey slacks with black ballet shoes. She sure looks like a doctor.
“Congratulations on expecting your first baby,” she says with a smile as she shuts the door behind us.
“Thank you,” we say in unison.
“Just checking that you’ve had plenty of water?” She asks, and Jennifer nods dutifully. “Alright, mum-to-be, if you could hop up here, we can get started,” she says patting the oddest-looking exam table I’ve ever seen. It looks like a huge chest of draws with a rubber mat on top that’s propped up. It looks weird, though it’s a nice lavender colour. Actually, the whole room looks nice. Soft pastel walls covered in soothing; colourful artwork give it a relaxing atmosphere. It doesn’t look or feel clinical at all.
“Um, do I… do I have to take my underwear off?” Jennifer asks shyly. “I know Gamma Evalyn had to for her ultrasound…” she trails off, her cheeks turning flush as nerves take over her, so I wrap my arm around her for comfort.
Doctor Johnson gives her a comforting smile, “Gamma Evalyn did have a transvaginal ultrasound, but that’s because she and Gamma Tyson were actively trying for a baby during her heat and so she came to me immediately. That early in her pregnancy I couldn’t have done an external examine. You mentioned your heat was about a week and a half ago, so you should be just fine for an external exam, but I’ll let you know if we need to go the other route,” she explains as she sanitises her hands, puts on gloves and starts up the ultrasound machine.
I squeeze Jennifer and kiss her temple, “I’m right here.”
She gives me an appreciative smile and climbs onto the table with her legs dangling off the edge. She leans back but holds my hand tight. Doctor Johnson sits on a small rollaway stool, grabs a small towel, tucks it into the waistband of Jennifer’s skirt, pulls it down a fraction, and lifts her top up a little bit.
“So how are we feeling so far? Any symptoms that you’ve noticed?” The doctor asks while squirting some blue gel on Jennifer’s belly making her flinch from the cold that I can feel through our bond, so I rub her hand soothingly.
“Not really. At least I don’t think so,” says Jennifer with uncertainty.
“Her sense of smell has gotten stronger, and she’s eating a lot more. I’ve been cooking a lot more, but she’s still always hungry, not that I mind,” I say gently.
The doctor nods happily, “That’s to be expected. You’re carrying another wolf inside you, so you can expect your appetite to skyrocket, along with all your senses. Now I understand that due to your pre-mature birth, you’re not as developed as other wolves, but you can still expect your pregnancy to amplify all your mutolupus abilities beyond that of an average mutolupus,” she explains.
Jennifer’s eyes widen in astonishment, “I’d be stronger than Landry?!” She shrieks.
The doctor chuckles and nods, “And faster too,” she winks.
“You might have to take Matthan for a run next time,” I tease, making her giggle. “My wolf was wondering earlier if we’d be able to know the sex this early.”
The doctor shakes her head as she grabs the ultrasound wand, “It’s too early. In a human pregnancy, you might be able to around fourteen weeks, so for Jennifer that would be around one and a half months. Were you hoping to know the sex then?” She asks looking at us.
Jennifer squeezes my hand and looks up at me, “I don’t want to know. I want to find out when the baby’s born,” she pleads.
I smile down at her and kiss her forehead, “I like that idea too.” I say and watch her smile light up her face.
“Alright, let’s have a look at your baby,” says the doctor. She places the wand on Jennifer’s belly, “You might feel a little pressure,” she warns as she pushes the wand into her belly and begins moving it around.
We watch the screen as the fuzzy black-and-white image continues to move in and out of focus. It looks like static around a black abyss and isn’t a very pretty depiction of my baby’s home. I don’t think of static and black voids when I think of my Pixie – Jennifer is too lovely and sweet. I picture her womb as being full of sunshine and colour wrapping our baby in love and warmth. I can hear Beatrix chuckling in my mind.
“It’s a uterus, not a fully decorated nursery,” she chuckles.
“I know that, but it’s still how I picture things.”
“You’re adorable,” she coos.
“What about me?” Matthan whines, making Beatrix chuckle and shake her head.
The doctor continues to move the wand and hit a few buttons on her machine before freezing the screen, “And that right there, is your little baby,” she announces, pointing to a bloop in the middle of the screen. It looks like a fava bean in a black sack.
“That thing?” I ask.
“That would be it,” she smiles at us.
“That’s our baby…” Whispers Jennifer, her voice filled with all the emotion I feel rushing through her. I look down to see the tears filling her eyes, but I can sense they are happy tears. I place my arm around her head and kiss her temple as I breathe in her floral scent. It’s crazy to think that small blob on the screen is our baby, but there’s no denying the immediate love and connection Jennifer has to it, and that’s enough to make this all hit home for me. I take another look at the image on the screen, and in my mind I can picture that little blob growing bigger and bigger, growing ten cute little fingers and ten cute little toes. That’s our baby. That’s my baby. I’m really going to be a dad.
I look down again at Jennifer whose eyes are captivated by the image on the screen. I smile and gently caress her cheek as the jolts of electricity from our bond light up my body like Christmas, “You’re making a wonderful little home for our baby. I’m so proud of you,” I say warmly as she squeezes my hand tight.
“Can we hear the heartbeat?” Jennifer asks eagerly.
The doctor smiles and closes her eyes for a moment, holding up a finger for us to be quiet. We hold our breaths until a smile breaks across her face, “There it is.” She looks at us, “You’re a week and a half pregnant, which is about four to five human weeks. Now the heart is fully developed around week ten, which is actually three weeks for you. Right now the heart is starting to form and the tissue it’s forming will start to contract creating that faint beating sound. It’s too faint for the machine to pick up, but our ears are much better.”
Jennifer and I both close our eyes and focus our senses just like we do with training. I push out all other noise until it’s just our breathing and our hearts beating that I can hear. Our own beats are very loud and very distracting, but I try to pick up any other distinctive sounds. I’m about to give up when Jennifer jolts and squeezes my hand and I feel her excitement burst through me. I focus a little harder and that’s when I hear it. The very faint little pulse of a heart just starting to grow.
Matthan has gone silent and is just sitting back on his hind legs listening along with me in amazement, and now, just like Jennifer, I feel the tears filling my eyes. I can hear our baby. I can hear the little life growing inside her. A life we made. We definitely didn’t plan it, but Jennifer was right, that baby was made from our love and will forever be a reminder of what we share. I love Jennifer with all my heart, but the thought of making a bit more space for our baby feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m still scared I’m going to screw up, but for now, the excitement of getting to meet our little baby and shower them with all the love we can is overpowering my fear.
I wrap my arms around Jennifer and press my forehead to hers as the tears trickle down my cheeks, “Thank you,” I whisper.
She looks up at me with happy tears and strokes away mine from my cheeks, “What for?”
“For making me happier than I ever deserved to be. I love you, Jennifer,” I say with all the devotion I can muster.
She smiles and brushes her nose against mine, “I love you too.”