Can We Keep Her?

The Big News

It started with a feeling of just being slightly off. The was nothing you could exactly pinpoint. You didn't feel sick, just - off. More lethargic than normal. Slower to start in the morning. Food wasn't really appealing to you. Maybe your breasts were a bit tender, maybe you just needed a new bra.

Of course, it was possible that you were just run down. You run a business that consisted of three stores in three different states. You were training both a manager and a chocolatier to take over from you when you took maternity leave. You were still the head designer and manager of the New York Store, and you managed the overall operations of all three stores. Being run down made sense.

You kept telling yourself that, even though this niggling little thing in the back of your head kept saying, 'This is it. It's happened. You're pregnant.'

It had been almost a year since Steve had come to you saying he was ready to be a dad. It was three months of them doing extensive genetic tests to make sure that the Superserum wouldn't have any adverse effects on any children you had. You had now been trying to get pregnant for nine months. You had decided for the first one to just stop taking birth control and see what happened. It didn't matter to any of you who was the biological father of the baby, as long as there was one. After five months, giving time for your birth control to clear out of your system and just trying not to get in your head about it, you went to see fertility specialists.

Steve and Bucky had already had the tests run, so this time it was your turn. You had a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy to check out our ovaries and womb. You had things like acidity tested and an internal ultrasound. You had your follicles tracked to see if you were ovulating. It turned out you had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. You had been put on Clomid and every month for a week you have to have internal ultrasounds to see if you're ovulating. It has now been three treatments and there wouldn't be any more until you had to take the next step which would be either IVF or consider adoption.

So you told yourself it's stress. That you were run down because every other small hope you'd had that this time it has worked, had been met with disappointment, and you didn't think you could take it again.

You pushed through. When you were a day late with your period you told yourself that that was probably the stress too. Those things got messed up all the time. Three days later when nausea started to bear down on you making you feel like you were going to throw up but not actually making you throw up, you started getting excited.

It was another two days before you allowed yourself to take the test. You didn't tell Steve or Bucky. You were too worried it would be negative again and then you'd have to see that face they pulled when they are obviously let down, but are trying to stay positive for you and each other. It's a particularly painful face to see Bucky wearing. He could barely hold it, and it made him look both in pain and slightly frightening.

It was always the same thing. Steve would rub your back and kiss you on top of the head and say. "It'll happen. I know it will." At the same time, Bucky would give you a tight smile while his eyes looked empty.

It was breaking your heart. To begin with, every time you had sex, one of them would say maybe this was it. They'd get heartbroken every time your period came, and if you were late at all they'd excitedly suggest you do a pregnancy test. But as time passed and the invasive medical procedures started, excitement was pushed out by concern. Concern was pushed out by worry. The fun of everything involved with making a baby turned into dry and dull work - a means to an end that was never going to eventuate.

So you sat on the toilet, pregnancy test in hand, your heart pounding in your chest, hoping that finally, you might have something to celebrate. You watched as the first line appeared. It started in the center of the window and spread out to the edges quickly turning a dark pink. As it darkened a lighter line started to appear beside it. You kept staring, as the line slowly grew and got darker. There was this voice in your head saying, 'That's not really a line. That's your eyes playing tricks on you.'  As the line grew and darkened not even that doomsday voice could deny it. You were pregnant. All the work and stress and pain had paid off. Those two pink lines meant this was it - you were going to be a parent.