Chapter 156: The 32-Week Checkup
Adrian's POV
Two weeks passed. Then three. Sierra's belly grew so big she couldn't see her own feet anymore. She waddled when she walked and groaned when she tried to sit down. Every night I helped her put on her shoes because she couldn't reach them. Every morning I watched her struggle to get out of bed and pretended not to notice when tears filled her eyes from the pain.
Dr. Mara called early on a Tuesday. "Sierra needs to come in today. It's time for her thirty-two-week checkup."
I looked at Sierra who was sitting on the couch with both hands pressed under her belly trying to lift some of the weight off. Her face was pale and tired. Dark circles lived under her eyes now. She hadn't slept well in weeks.
"Okay," I said into the phone. "We'll be there in an hour."
Ben insisted on coming with us. He brought four guards who followed our car in two separate vehicles. The drive to the pack medical center took twenty minutes. Every bump in the road made Sierra wince. I drove as carefully as I could but our territory roads weren't smooth.
"I'm sorry," I said when she gasped at a particularly rough patch.
"It's not your fault," she whispered. "He's just so heavy. It feels like he's sitting on everything inside me. My lungs, bladder, spine."
I reached over and held her hand. Her fingers were swollen. Even the ring on her hand looked tight. "Just a few more weeks. Then you'll have your body back."
"I don't want my body back," she said softly. "I want him out and safe in my arms where Marcus can't touch him."
The medical center appeared ahead. Dr. Mara stood at the entrance waiting for us. She smiled but I saw worry in her eyes.
We walked inside. The guards stayed outside forming a perimeter around the building. Ben checked every room before letting us go further. When he was satisfied he nodded at me.
Dr. Mara led us to an exam room. Sierra lowered herself onto the table with a grunt. I helped lift her legs up. She lay back and stared at the ceiling. Her hands rested on her enormous belly.
"How are you feeling?" Dr. Mara asked while washing her hands.
"Tired. Sore. Like I'm carrying a bowling ball inside me."
Dr. Mara smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. She pulled out a tape measure and began measuring Sierra's belly. From top to bottom. Side to side. Her frown deepened with each measurement. She wrote numbers on her chart. Measured again. Wrote more numbers.
"Is something wrong?" Sierra's voice cracked with fear.
"Let me do an ultrasound," Dr. Mara said quietly. "I want to get a better look."
She rolled over a machine on wheels. The screen was dark. She squirted cold gel on Sierra's belly making her gasp. Then she pressed the ultrasound wand against her skin and moved it around slowly. The screen flickered to life.
Our son appeared. Perfect. Beautiful. His little hands moved near his face. His feet kicked. His heart beat was strong and steady. I felt tears burn my eyes. There he was, our baby, so close to being born.
But Dr. Mara wasn't smiling. She clicked buttons on the machine. Measured something on the screen. She measured again and again. Her frown grew deeper and deeper.
"What is it?" I asked. My voice came out harsh with fear.
Dr. Mara sat back in her chair. She looked at Sierra. Then at me. Then back at Sierra. "Your baby is measuring very large. Much larger than he should be at thirty-two weeks."
Sierra's hand found mine. "How large?"
"He's measuring closer to thirty-seven weeks. Full term. His estimated weight right now is about eight pounds. By the time you reach your due date he could be ten or even eleven pounds."
The room spun. Eight pounds already? Most babies weren't that big when they were born at forty weeks. Our son had eight more weeks to grow.
"What does that mean?" Sierra whispered.
Dr. Mara pulled off her gloves. She sat on a stool and rolled closer to us. "It means we need to talk about delivery options. A baby this large creates serious risks for vaginal delivery. The biggest concern is something called shoulder dystocia."
"What's that?" I asked.
"It's when the baby's head comes out but the shoulders get stuck behind the mother's pelvic bone. It can cause severe injury to both mother and baby. Broken bones. Nerve damage. In the worst cases it can be fatal."
Sierra's whole body started shaking. I wrapped my arms around her. "What are our options?"
"A C-section," Dr. Mara said gently. "It's the safest way to deliver a baby this size. We schedule it. Control the environment. Minimize risks."
"Surgery?" Sierra's voice was tiny. Terrified.
"Yes. We make an incision in your abdomen and uterus. Take the baby out directly. You'll be awake but numb from the chest down. Adrian can be there with you."
Sierra started crying. Real sobs that shook her whole body. "I don't want surgery. I don't want them cutting me open. What if something goes wrong? What if I die on the table and our baby has no mother?"
"The risk of death from a C-section is very low," Dr. Mara said. "Much lower than attempting vaginal delivery with a baby this large."
"But there is still a risk," Sierra said. "There's always a risk."
I held her tighter. "We'll do whatever keeps you both safe. If Dr. Mara says surgery is the best option then that's what we'll do."
"I need to think about it," Sierra said. "I need time."
Dr. Mara nodded. "You have a few weeks. But not many. If you go into labor naturally before we can schedule the C-section things become much more dangerous. We need to make a decision soon."
She handed us pamphlets about C-sections and recovery times. What to expect. Sierra took them with shaking hands. We left the exam room and walked back to the car. The guards surrounded us. Ben walked ahead checking for threats.
Sierra was silent the whole drive home. She stared out the window with tears running down her face. I didn't know what to say. How to fix this. Our baby was too big.
Back at the pack house Sierra went straight to the nursery. She stood in front of the crib and cried. I stood behind her not touching her. Just being there.
"I wanted it to be perfect," she said. "I wanted to give birth naturally. Hold him right away. Have that moment every mother dreams about."
"You'll still have that moment," I said. "C-section or not. The second they put him in your arms nothing else will matter."
"What if I can't bond with him? What if the surgery traumatizes me and I can't love him properly?"
"That won't happen," I said firmly. "You already love him. I see it in everything you do. How you eat even when you're not hungry. How you rest even though you want to do more. How you protect him with every breath. That's real love."
She turned and buried her face in my chest. "I'm so scared."
"Me too."
We stood there in the nursery surrounded by tiny clothes, blankets and toys. Outside the sun set. Guards changed shifts. Somewhere Marcus waited. And inside Sierra our son grew bigger and stronger preparing to enter a world that wanted to hurt him.