asks.
She shakes her head. “No. That isn’t something you should worry about. Sometimes an interspecies child can shift within their egg after it’s already been laid, but that’s unusual.”
She keeps searching, pushing against my bladder and my stomach. It takes an alarming amount of time, and I oscillate between worrying about the baby and worrying if I’m going to pee my pants or vomit all over her.
She lifts the wand away from my stomach and wipes up the jelly with a paper towel.
“Go ahead and use the bathroom across the hall, and we can discuss the results when you get back.”
That sounds bad. Is she worried the news will upset me enough that I won’t be able to hold it?
Sam’s jaw clenches. He’s concerned too.
I zip up my jeans and slide off the examination chair and barely get to the restroom in time. I want to get back to hear the news as fast as possible, but I have to pee for a century. I don’t think my bladder has ever held so much liquid before. By the time I get my hands washed, and I make it across the hall again, Sam is nearly vibrating with anxiety.
What if something is wrong with our baby? Will that change things between us?
I think back to the heartfelt chats I’ve had with Jesse, the sweet moments between Sam and Mary, and the times Sam and I have held each other close at night. That, more than the sex, reassures me that our relationship isn’t in jeopardy.
But it would still break my heart if this baby didn’t make it. I’m already so attached to them.
“There’s a fair bit of guesswork when it comes to tracking pregnancies with mixed species couples. Normally, if the fetus is encased in an egg, that means a three-month gestation period inside the omega’s womb. And if that was our expectation for your pregnancy, I would be concerned because your baby is not visible through an ultrasound yet, and that suggests a longer gestation period.”
She holds out her clipboard to us. There are several graphs and diagrams I don’t understand the meaning of.
“I already tested your urine for calcium carbonate, which helps us determine if your child is encased in an egg. Your levels indicate that you’re carrying one egg. This probably means your child is in their penguin form and is developing at a slower rate. That could be because you’re a polar bear shifter. It could also be because there’s something wrong. We won’t know for at least a few more weeks.”
Sam threads his fingers through mine and squeezes my hand. This isn’t news that either of us wanted to hear.
“Unfortunately, that level of calcium carbonate combined with a slow gestation could mean that your child is in their polar bear form and has developed an egg. If that’s the case, the egg is likely to grow to a size that won’t be safe for you. Which means we’ll need to monitor your pregnancy closely.”
That sounds horrifying. Sam squeezes my hand again.
“What would we do? If the child was in their polar bear form and had an egg?” I ask.
The doctor pauses. “The survival of the fetus wouldn’t be likely, and if it was allowed to grow to term, the pregnancy would probably be fatal for you. So I would recommend termination.”
She’s talking about an abortion. I lower my head. It would be heartbreaking to lose our baby like that.
“I’d like to clarify that it’s far more likely you’re carrying a fetus in their penguin form. It’s rare for a fetus who doesn’t need an egg to grow one. I just wanted to prepare you, in case that happens. Most of the time, I find that children from mixed couples tend to be healthier and less prone to complications. But every pregnancy and child are different. All we can do is try to keep you healthy and monitor everything closely.”
“So basically, we don’t know anything and we can’t do anything,” I say, before I can stop myself.
“We can keep you healthy,” the doctor reminds me.
That isn’t enough.
“There has to be something. I can’t just sit back and do nothing.” I duck my head into Sam’s shoulder.
Sam kisses the top of my head. “Would you mind leaving us for just a few minutes?”
The doctor nods and stands up. “Of course. Stay as long as you need to.”
When she leaves, Sam cups my face with his hands. “Lu, everything’s going to be okay.”
“How can you know that? The doctor