Author's Note: Immediately following It's the Life We're Living Now—or the other one where they talk about babies a lot (and how to go about making those babies). Warning for medical jargon and some simplification of the IVF process.

There will be seven short parts with alternating pov.

As always, thanks and cyber-hugs to Skywarrior108 for being an awesome beta.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters, I just like to play with them…strictly non-profit.

Now I Know My Life Is Sweetening

Everything in a moment starting where
Something you said is hanging in the air
Now I know my life is sweetening
Changing everything
~Something That You Said, The Bangles

Part I: Something I Have Dreamed About

Rachel's fears about becoming a mother don't disappear. They're still there whispering in the back of her mind, but sharing them with Quinn has quieted them down enough for Rachel to hear all the joyful possibilities begin to sing out. Thoughts of beautiful little girls that look just like Quinn or handsome little boys that also look like Quinn—really, Quinn's features are very attractive on any gender—keep sneaking into her mind at the oddest of times, and Rachel wonders if Quinn has been entertaining these kinds of thoughts all along.

Much to her surprise, Quinn doesn't immediately push her into making those plans she'd promised they'd make, though she does mention signing up with some of the online apartment hunting sites and creating a customized search for a three bedroom.

"We can start with that," Quinn suggests with a hopeful smile. "Maybe in one of the better neighborhoods?"

Rachel frowns, wondering what Quinn considers better. Murray Hill isn't a bad neighborhood after all—it's just more suited to college grads and young urban professionals than families. It's been close to perfect for the two of them these last four years, and so conveniently close to the theater district. Rachel thinks maybe they should be looking for something with a yard or near a park, but she'd also like to stay somewhere with suitable transportation to Midtown while she still has her show to consider.

But somewhere safe.

Preferably with decent schools.

And rich cultural opportunities.

That's still affordable.

Rachel realizes that the number of bedrooms is the least of their concerns and makes a mental note to begin researching crime statistics and school district ratings in the city, and while she's at it, she'll also need to research the fertility and family planning clinics in the vicinity to ensure that they choose one that's reputable and up to every applicable health code.

It occurs to her sometime during the hours that she's actually conducting this research that Quinn hadn't needed to push her at all—she'd only needed to give her a single, gentle nudge in exactly the right spot, knowing Rachel well enough to expect that's all it would take to send her careening at high speeds into internet searches and spreadsheets and maps and charts and graphs.

It's a spreadsheet that she tosses down on the coffee table in front of Quinn one morning seven days after they'd agreed to start making plans. Quinn's fingers grow still on the keys of her laptop as she peeks up over the screen, lifting a curious eyebrow. "What's that?" she questions, closing her laptop and moving it to the side as she leans forward to pick up the papers in front of her.

"I made a list of the local fertility centers that offer insemination, ranked by success rating and general consumer satisfaction," Rachel explains as she settles onto the sofa next to Quinn, watching her wife's stunned gaze fly to hers. "I thought we could…you know," she waves her hand in the direction of her spreadsheet, "start making a few of those decisions."

Clutching the papers tightly with one hand, Quinn reaches for Rachel with the other and tugs her into an ardent kiss. Rachel hums in surprised pleasure as she kisses her wife back with enthusiasm, and she's still pleasantly dazed when Quinn finally allows her to come up for air. "Oh. That was nice," she murmurs appreciatively.

Quinn ghosts another brief kiss across her lips, far more chaste than the last. "I love that you did this."

"I'm trying to be more proactive," Rachel tells her—not at all opposed to receiving more of those kisses for her efforts.

Grinning happily, Quinn turns her attention back to the list in her hands. "Do they all offer IVF?" she asks as she browses through it.

IVF?

Rachel's brow furrows. "Why does that matter?" Unless Quinn thinks that she'll have a problem conceiving this time around, they shouldn't need to resort to in vitro. A frown pulls at her mouth as she considers why Quinn might possibly think that, but to Rachel's knowledge, none of Quinn's doctors had ever mentioned anything specifically about potential infertility being a complication of her accident.

Quinn catches the corner of her lower lip between her teeth as she glances back at Rachel, gazing at her softly for a long moment before she shyly answers. "Because I want to use your egg."

The unexpected announcement takes Rachel by surprise, and she feels her eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

Taking a breath, Quinn tosses the spreadsheet back onto the coffee table before angling her body towards Rachel on the sofa. "I've been thinking a lot about this, Rach. I want this baby to be ours," she says, reaching out to clasp Rachel's hand, "as much as it can be, anyway," she clarifies, "and if I'm actually carrying your child, then the baby really will be part of us both, and you'll feel more connected to the pregnancy."

Rachel tries to wrap her mind around what Quinn is suggesting. "Quinn, baby…it's…I love that you want to do that," she stammers, recognizing the part of her that is undeniably tickled by the notion, "but it isn't necessary. It will still be our baby even if it's genetically yours."

And Quinn has really wonderful genes, even when she's frowning—like she is right now. "But I want it to be genetically yours, Rachel," she insists stubbornly. "I know you're still afraid that you won't have enough time for our family, and we both want to make certain that we don't make the same mistakes our parents made. I honestly believe we're going to be the best moms," Quinn promises with a grin, "but there's still a chance this baby might end up being be our only child, and I already have a daughter in this world who has half my DNA," she points out, her smile blossoming as she continues to gaze at Rachel with her heart in her eyes. "The world needs a little you so much more than it needs another Fabray."

"Some people might disagree," Rachel mutters, attempting to push away the memories of the insults flung at her during her formative years that were intended to make her believe that even one of her in the world was one too many.

Quinn's smile softens. "I need a little you," she amends sweetly.

That's all it really takes to disintegrate Rachel's unpleasant memories into dust, and her heart makes a valiant attempt to soar right out of her chest—but no. No! A little Quinn will be so much better. "I just…I don't want you to have to go through all that extra hassle when a simple insemination procedure would be so much easier."

Quinn's smile fades away slowly as she sits back, letting Rachel's hand slip out of hers. "Hassle," she repeats incredulously. "You think my wanting to have your baby is a hassle?"

And okay—it's possible that Rachel hadn't phrased that in the most prudent way. "I didn't mean it like that…exactly."

Quinn huffs. "No, I understand you perfectly," she bites out, angling her body away from Rachel as she picks up the spreadsheet again, staring down at it with a frown. "If you have to give in and agree to have a baby with me, you want to make it as little an inconvenience to yourself as possible." Rachel's eyes widen at the accusation, and her mouth opens to log a protest, but Quinn is already rushing off into a bitchy rant. "I mean, I don't even really need you at all, do I? I can just go pick out a sperm donor and knock myself up," she exclaims with a bitter laugh. "Or…hey…maybe I'll just give Puck a call. He'd probably be happy to help me out again."

Rachel gasps in indignation at the mere suggestion, crossing her arms angrily. "That's really uncalled for, Quinn!" The very idea of any part of Noah Puckerman going anywhere near her wife in that way ever again makes her want to scream.

Quinn sighs, dropping the spreadsheet onto to the table again before falling back against the sofa. "I'm sorry," she says earnestly, turning to Rachel with a contrite expression on her face. "I just…I want to do this for us, Rachel…have our baby," she clarifies as if there might still be a question as to what they're discussing, "but I also don't want it to feel like it's only me doing this. That was pretty much my entire pregnancy with Beth," she admits with a sad smile. "One quick, forgettable moment of awkward discomfort with Puck followed by nine months of dealing with everything on my own."

Understanding washes over Rachel, but, "I'm not Noah," she reminds Quinn emphatically. "I'm nothing like him, Quinn. I want to be there for you. I want to support you." Despite her own lingering fears about motherhood, Rachel so very much wants to provide Quinn with everything she hadn't been able to have at sixteen. "But it doesn't need to be my child you're carrying for it to be ours."

Quinn studies her for a long moment in silence. "I really thought you'd be onboard with this. It's kind of how your dads had you."

"That was different," Rachel insists, feeling her cheeks begin to heat a little. "All they had to do was," she pauses, lifting a hand before she realizes any gesture she might make with it wouldn't be appropriate for this particular conversation, "well, you know. They could do that at home," she dismisses, wrinkling her nose as she tries not to think too deeply on exactly how her dads had gone about mixing up their stuff. "What you're proposing is a lot more complicated, Quinn. Not to mention expensive."

A familiar, pale eyebrow arches in challenge. "You're putting a price tag on creating our family?"

"It's a factor," Rachel has to admit. There's no denying that opting for artificial insemination would be significantly less expensive than in vitro. "But I'm more concerned about the risk. You're proposing an invasive procedure that we'd both have to endure after taking fertility drugs. That's a lot of undue stress to put our bodies through, and there's no guarantee it would even work."

Quinn frowns, but it's clear from her expression that she's reluctantly considering the logic in Rachel's reasoning. She doesn't need to know that a large part of Rachel's reasoning comes right back to her preference that their child have Quinn's genes because—well, Quinn's genes are so much prettier.

"There's no guarantee anything will work, Rachel," Quinn finally allows, "but we'll never know unless we try."

"And if we end up disappointed?" Rachel challenges.

"Then we'll try the insemination," Quinn concedes.

"Or we could just try that first." Really, it would be so much simpler—and yes, simpler for Rachel too. She absolutely intends to fully support Quinn when they finally embark on the journey to expand their family, but honestly, she'd rather avoid the exams and injections and poking and prodding and harvesting that would undoubtedly come with being Quinn's egg donor.

Quinn shakes her head in exasperation. "Isn't there even a little part of you that wants the baby to be yours?" she wonders with a thoughtful frown.

A no dances on the tip of Rachel's tongue, formed by every old insecurity about her appearance that's ever plagued her, but deep down, she knows it's a lie. So many of those insecurities—even the ones that had been nurtured by Quinn herself in the stupidity of youth—have slowly been beaten down into submission by the way Quinn looks at her now, the way her eyes and hands and lips have worshiped Rachel's body, the way Rachel can turn her on with just a look, and the way Quinn makes her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

And okay—it's not just Quinn. Her more ardent fans and a few of her exes and Teresa and Josie and even Santana have all contributed to the wonderful balm to Rachel's self-esteem over the years.

Her professional vanity, on the other hand, has never needed much of a boost. So, "Of course there is," Rachel acknowledges. "You know I have a very healthy ego, Quinn." And even though Quinn's genes are undeniably prettier, Rachel's are undoubtedly filled to the brim with talent just waiting to be unleashed on the world. It's only natural that Rachel would feel a certain urge to pass that on. "But you make such beautiful babies. Beth is proof of that. Maybe…maybe I want our child to look like you," she confesses, refusing to mention her reluctance to pass on some of her less desirable physical traits (like her nose) that's all mixed up in her genuine desire to see another piece of Quinn alive in the world.

Oblivious to Rachel's thoughts, Quinn smiles tenderly. "And I want her to look like you. So what do we do about that?"

Rachel shrugs. "Find a Jewish donor."

Quinn's brows furrow slightly. "I wasn't actually serious about asking Puck."

"Good," Rachel snaps with an exaggerated scowl, "because I'd never agree to that. As much as I adore Beth, you're not mixing your genes with Noah Puckerman's ever again."

Quinn laughs at that. "Whatever you say, sweetheart," she agrees easily as she reaches for Rachel's hand again, but soon enough her smile is growing wistful. "You know, whenever I imagine our daughter, she looks just you…all dark hair and big brown eyes and the sweetest voice."

"We could have a boy," Rachel counters.

Quinn shrugs. "He mostly looks like you too."

Smiling at Quinn's stubbornness, Rachel silently admits that she won't actually mind if their child has dark hair. She was actually thinking of adding that to the list of required traits for their donor (along with musical ability and above-average intelligence), but she's really hoping for Quinn's eyes—and her chin, her cheekbones, and (it goes without saying) her nose. She's obviously aware that Quinn has had some work done in that regard, but only because she'd crashed her bicycle into a fence and broken her nose when she was six. It admittedly hadn't healed well, but Judy has shown Rachel all of Quinn's baby pictures, so she knows how perfectly adorable Quinn had been even with her original nose.

"We can find a donor who looks like me," Rachel suggests amenably, but probably not too much like her.

"But he won't be you," Quinn protests with a pout, sullenly picking at the edge of the sofa cushion with a blunt fingernail.

"Quinn…it…it's scary enough bringing a child into this world, but to do it the way you want," Rachel trails off, feeling the familiar weight of anxiety start to press down on her chest once again. She absently rubs at it with her free hand.

"Why is that scarier?" Quinn asks curiously.

"For one thing, the chance of multiple births is higher," Rachel points out, and if becoming a mother to one baby is still kind of terrifying then the possibility of two at once is downright crippling. She'd never have time for anything! Then there's the extra stress that a multiple pregnancy would put on the mother, and Rachel wouldn't be able to bear it if anything were to happen to Quinn—or their babies. "And…and I think the risk for miscarriages is higher too," she mentions quietly, her stomach clenching at the thought of fully investing herself in a pregnancy only to lose it.

"Actually, the risk of that is about the same as conceiving naturally," Quinn corrects her gently. "It really only increases with the mother's age."

Rachel swallows heavily. "You've been doing research," she realizes.

Quinn flashes her a mischievous grin. "Of course." She sobers then, holding Rachel's troubled gaze with serious eyes. "There is a slightly higher risk of ectopic pregnancies," she relays somewhat grudgingly, "but it's pretty low overall, and I'm willing to take the risk…to go through all of the extra work…if it means I get to carry your baby." With that, Quinn is smiling again—soft and dreamy. "A part of you to love and nurture. Can you understand how wonderful that would make this pregnancy for me?"

Rachel does understand. She knows Quinn's first pregnancy had been anything but wonderful for her, and she can see how much Quinn wants this experience to be everything the first wasn't. And there's a part of Rachel that knows Quinn might be right about them only having one child. Even planning for this one feels incredibly overwhelming to her, and she suspects that will only intensify once Quinn is actually pregnant. Right now, Rachel can't even begin to imagine ever feeling ready to undertake a pregnancy of her own, and she'd never ask Quinn to do this a third time. What Quinn is offering to do for her now may well be Rachel's one and only chance to ever have a biological child—and that would make Quinn's pregnancy kind of wonderful for her too.

Terrifying.

But also wonderful.

"It means more doctor's appointments and drugs and…and it will probably take longer for us to be successful," Rachel warns her wife, hardly believing that she's even entertaining the notion.

"I was under the impression that you weren't in any particular hurry for me to actually get pregnant before next year," Quinn muses with a grin.

Rachel glances away sheepishly. "Well…I…I haven't been, no." And really, the likelihood that Quinn will actually conceive before next year is highly improbable, especially if Rachel agrees to try the IVF. "But my show seems like it might enjoy a decent run, so next fall is starting to look like a good time for me to take a little break."

She can still try her hand at songwriting and start working on an album while she's supporting Quinn and learning how to be a mother. If she's going to take this leap, it's probably best not to drag it out for too long and give herself the extra time to panic. Once Quinn is actually pregnant, there'll be nowhere for Rachel to go but forward.

Quinn's smile gets wider. "The fall sounds perfect."

Quinn's happiness is infectious, and Rachel wages an internal debate against her better judgment. Insemination would be so much easier—not to mention safer and cheaper. They'd just need to worry about finding an appropriate donor.

But Quinn's happiness is priceless.

"We'll need to set a limit," Rachel insists, caving right in to the hope in those beloved hazel eyes, "financially and…and on the number of times we're prepared to…to try before we pursue other options." She's not willing to compromise on that part. Rachel can agree to try it Quinn's way first, but she suspects that there are only so many disappointments they'll be able to endure before it would break them.

"Yes. We can absolutely do that," Quinn agrees readily, nodding her head. Her enthusiasm is palpable, and Rachel feels her own mouth curving into a smile at the sight. Really, when Rachel takes a moment to think about this in the context of their entire relationship, it's kind of amazing that Quinn Fabray wants to have Rachel Berry's baby so badly. It really does wonders for her ego.

"And we need to make an appointment with Doctor Barnes. This entire thing might not even be medically feasible. I mean, it's kind of an odd request when you have perfectly healthy ovaries."

Quinn bites into her smile almost guiltily. "I already have an appointment scheduled."

Rachel gapes at her. "You've been making plans without me?" she accuses with a trace of hurt in her voice. For all of Quinn's talk about doing this together, she'd apparently taken a fairly important step without consulting Rachel first.

"I've been conducting research," Quinn counters, "just like you have," she notes, gesturing to the spreadsheet that Rachel had made. And okay, Rachel hadn't exactly included Quinn in that either, but after Rachel had dragged her heels for so long on planning for their family, she'd wanted to surprise her wife and prove that she really is committed to this thing.

"I thought it would be a good idea to get a general checkup and discuss our options with my doctor," Quinn continues, "so I called her office yesterday afternoon to see if she could squeeze me in in the next month or two. They happened to have an opening next Thursday."

"But you didn't tell me," Rachel whines, crossing her arms.

"I just scheduled it yesterday," Quinn repeats slowly. "And I was going to mention it. I…I guess I didn't want it to seem like I was pressuring you more than I already have," she confesses guiltily, "so I've been trying to ease us into everything."

Well, that certainly explains the lack of further discussion they'd been having on the subject of babies until today, but, "Quinn, baby, casually telling me you want to use my egg isn't easing into anything."

"I got excited," Quinn admits with a blush, pointing to Rachel's spreadsheet again. "I mean, you've been doing research, and you made a spreadsheet. And you looked so proud of it," she coos with an indulgent grin.

Rachel huffs, crossing her arms. "I was. But now I'll obviously have to re-catalogue everything according to their rating for IVF procedures," she grumbles. Hours of work—rendered practically void by Quinn's desire to hijack Rachel's DNA.

Chuckling, Quinn slides closer and slips her arms around Rachel. "We could do it together," she suggests, nuzzling Rachel's cheek.

Rachel closes her eyes and lets herself melt into her wife. Her fears seem to slip just a little further away at the promise that they'll be doing this together—at least for the moment.

xx

Quinn's doctor's appointment is Thursday morning, and Rachel fidgets on the taxi ride and in the waiting room and in the exam room. Quinn instructs her to calm down more than once, growing increasingly exasperated with Rachel's nervousness, but Rachel can't seem to find her inner peace. Her stomach is rolling and her leg is bouncing and a million thoughts are racing through her head.

What if Doctor Barnes finds something wrong? Granted, Quinn has been perfectly healthy up to this point, but one can never know when some unexpected (and unwelcome) complication will rise up and smack them over the head.

Quinn's primary care physician, Doctor Wolters, had already given Quinn the greenlight for a potential pregnancy months ago—a fact that she'd sheepishly informed Rachel of shortly after telling her about this appointment. "I needed to be sure there wouldn't be any health risks before I even suggested carrying our baby to you," she'd explained before going on to reassure Rachel that she hadn't, in fact, suffered any long term injuries from her car accident that would directly impede her from conceiving or carrying a child. But Rachel was conscious enough of her phrasing and aware enough of how Quinn's old injuries still affect her at times to understand that undertaking a pregnancy now will most certainly not be as easy for her as it had been when she was sixteen. They both know that Quinn is probably going to be suffering a little more with backaches and leg pains than most women do in the later stages of pregnancy.

But if Doctor Barnes finds some reason to think that Quinn can't (or shouldn't) conceive at all—well, Rachel doesn't want to think about that, because she can't be the one to get pregnant right now. She just can't. And then Quinn will be disappointed all over again, and Rachel can't bear for Quinn to be disappointed.

When Doctor Barnes finally enters the room, Rachel nearly jumps out of her chair to greet the woman, and Quinn rolls her eyes, staying seated on the exam table since she's clad only in her very unattractive paper gown. "You'll have to forgive Rachel. She's a little hyper today," Quinn explains, and the doctor smiles knowingly.

Doctor Amanda Barnes is an attractive, lanky woman in her early fifties with black hair shot through with a streak of gray just to the left of her widow's peak. She has kind, brown eyes and a soft voice, and Rachel has been seeing her for all of her womanly issues since she moved to New York to attend NYADA. Rachel had referred Quinn to her four years later when she'd settled in the city, so Doctor Barnes is intimately familiar with them both, and (unfortunately) she knows exactly how hyper Rachel can be.

"So I understand you're thinking about trying to conceive," she begins after the standard pleasantries have been exchanged, although the small talk is slightly abbreviated this morning.

"Yes," Quinn answers, unable to contain her smile. "I want to make sure everything is okay physically before we get started and maybe ask a few questions about our options."

Doctor Barnes nods in understanding. "Have you discussed this with your primary care physician as well?" she asks, already being generally aware of the injuries that Quinn had sustained as a teenager.

"I have," Quinn assures her. "He only has some minor concerns about the pain levels in my lower back and leg in the latter half of the pregnancy, but otherwise, he doesn't think there should be any health problems for me. I think I can handle a little discomfort."

An invisible fist tightens around Rachel's heart at the thought of Quinn in any kind of pain. "It might be more than a little," she points out with a frown as she begins to mindlessly twist her wedding rings around her finger. Quinn can be so very stubborn, and there are so many times when she pushes herself farther or faster than she should and ends up paying for it in pain and stiff joints. Rachel is probably going to have to tie her down to a chair for nine months to keep her from overtaxing her body.

"I'll be fine, Rachel," Quinn promises, offering her a reassuring smile.

Rachel eyes her wife critically. "I'd rather hear Doctor Barnes tell us that."

The aforementioned doctor chuckles. "Obviously, I can't offer an accurate assessment until after I've conducted the examination today," she explains to Rachel before returning her gaze to Quinn, "but based on your prior history, there hasn't been any reason to think that conception would be a problem for you. And if your physical discomfort is the only medical concern your PCP has, then I would see nothing to prevent you from carrying a pregnancy to term, assuming that everything checks out today." She slips her stethoscope out of her pocket with a warm smile. "So what do you say we take a look?"

With a firm nod, Quinn lies back on the exam table, and Rachel tries to keep from fidgeting too noticeably while she watches Doctor Barnes conduct her examination—eyes intent on the older woman's face in search of any wrinkle in her brow or downward turn of her lips to indicate a concern.

The sensation of being watched herself eventually registers in Rachel's consciousness, so she pulls her attention away from the doctor to meet sparkling, hazel eyes. Pink lips curve into a soft smile, and just seeing it helps calm some of Rachel's nervous tension. Quinn moves her left arm away from her stomach where it's been resting and lets it fall over the edge of the exam table, silently reaching out to Rachel with an open palm. Rachel finds herself perching on the edge of her chair and slipping her own hand into Quinn's without hesitation, caught up in her hopeful gaze.

How Quinn manages to still look stunning in stirrups and a paper gown will forever be a mystery to Rachel.

She wonders if it's possible to talk Quinn out of using her egg, because really, there's no way Rachel could ever look quite as lovely as her wife. She has the ability to take Rachel's breath away, even in this less than romantic setting, just by looking at her with so much love in her eyes.

Then again, having a miniature Quinn would almost certainly ensure that Rachel would spoil their child rotten and cave into every demand and generally be exactly the kind of indulgent, overly-permissive mother that she's terrified of becoming.

The snap of latex has Rachel jerking back into awareness, and her eyes fly back to Doctor Barnes to see her peeling off her gloves and tossing them into the nearby trashcan. "All done," she announces with kind smile. "You can go ahead and sit up, Quinn."

Rachel is out of her chair and standing by Quinn's side in an instant, gently helping her to sit up, much to Quinn's amusement if her small grin is any indication. "So what's the verdict?" Quinn asks in a deceptively laidback manner, but Rachel can feel the muted apprehension thrumming through her body in the way that Quinn's hand is clinging tightly to hers.

"Everything looks good," Doctor Barnes assures them. "We'll send your pap smear off to the lab to be certain, but there were no abnormalities last year so I don't expect there to be any problems now. I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to conceive and carry without complication."

Quinn exhales in relief at the pronouncement, squeezing Rachel's hand and flashing a triumphant smile. Rachel wishes she could return it, but the sense of relief she feels at Quinn's clean bill of health is still twisted up with a healthy dose of fear at the confirmation that there are no obstacles in the way of them having a baby except—well, her fear.

"Of course, I can't speak to your overall fertility at this point in the process," Doctor Barnes cautions them.

A self-deprecating smile curves Quinn's lips. "Well, I managed to get pregnant the first and only time I had sex with a guy, so I don't really think that will be a problem."

"But you were much younger then, Quinn," Rachel reminds her, not wanting her wife to set her expectations too high.

"Gee, thanks, Rach," Quinn drawls with a reproachful frown.

Doctor Barnes stifles a chuckle at their exchange. "Rachel does actually bring up a valid point, Quinn," she says with a sympathetic smile. "Age can certainly have an impact on a woman's ability to conceive, but you're still young and healthy overall, so I don't foresee that being a concern for you at this time. Now, I'm assuming you probably have some questions about how to go about creating your family?" she asks tactfully.

Rachel has always appreciated Doctor Barnes's easy acceptance of her LGBTQ patients. She hadn't batted an eyelash when she'd discovered that Rachel had started dating Quinn—Rachel may have made a point of telling her all about it when the subject of her sexual activity and the question of whether she still needed to worry about a birth control prescription had arisen. Doctor Barnes had merely congratulated her and told her she thought they would make a wonderful couple.

"We do," Quinn confirms.

"I actually have a list of potential fertility clinics that are reputable," Rachel informs her, quickly slipping away from Quinn's side to retrieve it from her purse, "if you wouldn't mind giving us your opinion on each them."

"A list?" Doctor Barnes echoes warily as Rachel pulls out the paper and unfolds it before handing over to the doctor. "That's…very organized," she concedes as she stares down at the list now in her hand.

"Or you could just tell us if you recommend a specific facility," Quinn interrupts hastily, "or a doctor who specializes in in vitro fertilization."

Doctor Barnes immediately looks up from the list she's perusing (because she is an excellent doctor and has always treated all of Rachel's concerns and suggestions with the gravity they deserve) to glance between Quinn and Rachel with interest. "Are you thinking of trying reciprocal IVF then?"

"Yes," Quinn tells her with a wide smile, obviously pleased that their doctor is already familiar with the procedure. Rachel had stumbled over the exact terminology for what Quinn wants to do when she'd been researching clinics and discovered that it isn't actually as uncommon as she'd first thought.

Doctor Barnes nods thoughtfully. "There are a fair number of clinics in the area that offer it as part of their LGBTQ family building programs."

"But they all offer artificial insemination, correct?" Rachel asks, doing her best to ignore the sharp look of censure that Quinn sends in her direction. They need to be realistic about their options if the IVF doesn't work for them.

"They do," Doctor Barnes assures them. "Intrauterine insemination is still by far the more prevalent option, but reciprocal IVF is certainly growing in popularity with female couples who want to share in their pregnancy more equally. So it's certainly something you'll be able to pursue if you so desire."

"We do," Quinn answers firmly.

Doctor Barnes nods again. "In that case, I highly recommend Doctor Rosaline Klein. She's a reproductive endocrinologist associated with Chelsea Fertility. In fact, that would be the clinic I'd probably recommend for an insemination as well. The clinic will likely be able to recommend one of the reputable sperm banks in the area, and of course, you also have the option of asking someone you know."

Rachel frowns thoughtfully at that bit of information, having not really considered it as an option outside of Quinn's terrible joke about asking Noah.

"And Rachel, since you just had your yearly three months ago, I don't think you need to worry about making another appointment with me, but you should be aware that Doctor Klein will likely want to conduct a medical screening for you as well if you ultimately decide to donate your egg to Quinn."

Rachel nods a little dazedly at the woman as Quinn squeezes her hand.

"Whatever decisions you make," Doctor Barnes continues, "I would advise speaking with a good attorney specializing in family law if you haven't already, in regards to both the donor contract and to the laws regarding egg donation and gestational surrogacy."

Rachel's head is swimming with the information—how is it possible that she hadn't even considered the possibility that they might need a lawyer?—when Quinn mentions, "We actually know someone."

"We do?" Rachel asks, glancing at her wife in confusion. Quinn's eyebrow barely has the chance to inch up before Rachel realizes, "Oh…yes, of course we do." She feels a little foolish for having forgotten about Josie. Her specialty is family law, and even if she isn't able to take them on as clients, she'll certainly be able to refer them to someone suitable. Of course, that means they'll have to tell Josie what they're doing, and Rachel is still hesitant about that part in case they have problems conceiving.

"Good," Doctor Barnes murmurs in approval. "I'll make sure Vicki gives you Doctor Klein's contact information at the front desk. Just give us a call and let us know if and when you make the appointment so we can have a copy of your records sent," she informs them, holding out the list of clinics that Rachel had given her. "I'll give this back to you as well. Your top five are all excellent facilities, in case you'd like to do a little comparison shopping," she offers with a wink.

Rachel's cheeks heat just a little as she accepts the paper with a quiet, "Thank you, Doctor Barnes."

Quinn quickly voices her own gratitude, seeking out Rachel's hand with her own, before Doctor Barnes slips out of the room to let Quinn get dressed.

"We're one step closer to starting our family, Rach," Quinn gushes, practically vibrating with excitement.

Rachel squeezes her hand and offers her a smile, hoping that it looks completely natural. She's not having second thoughts—she not!—but it's suddenly starting to feel like they're already racing out of the planning stages and into the actual doing. They've seen their doctor, and they're getting the name of a fertility specialist, and she just knows that Quinn is going to want to schedule an appointment at Chelsea Fertility for a consultation as soon as they can get one.

Apparently, her smile is genuine enough to have Quinn happily hopping down off the exam table and ripping away her paper gown with a grin. Rachel helpfully passes her clothes to her before sinking down into the chair to watch her wife dress—mentally focusing on the image of Quinn smiling at their baby and telling him bedtime stories to help keep her fears at bay.

When then get home, as expected, Quinn wants to call the clinic right away to schedule an appointment with Doctor Klein. "Just to get established with her and find out what we'll need to do," she promises, but Rachel can see the eagerness in her eyes. She tells Quinn to make the call, thinking that it will probably take months to get in, but somehow they end up with an appointment on September 19th—just over two weeks away.

"That's okay, isn't it?" Quinn asks cautiously.

Rachel swallows down her lingering nerves and reminds herself that it's just the first step in a long process. "Yes. Of course. Perfectly okay," she insists, cringing a little at the tiny edge of panic she can hear creeping into her voice.

Quinn scrapes her teeth over her lip as her eyes roam over Rachel's face. "I know I've been pushing pretty hard for this, Rach, but if you need us to slow down a little, then tell me now," she urges with a tiny frown. "We…we can wait a few more months to see Doctor Klein."

Rachel is tempted to take Quinn up on her reluctant offer, but she knows how much her wife wants this, and giving in to her fears again won't make either one of them happy in the long run, so she reaches for Quinn's hand and manages a reassuring smile. "We're keeping the appointment."

Quinn's smile is dazzling, and the kisses that follow are even better.

That night, after engaging in some vigorous baby-making practice despite the fact that neither one of them is properly equipped to make it happen for real, Rachel finds herself still awake while Quinn sleeps peacefully at her side. For the first time, she'd found herself entertaining the fleeting, impossible wish that she actually could get Quinn pregnant as they'd made love. It would certainly be so much simpler than what Quinn wants them to do, and maybe their future child might actually look a little like them both.

With that thought still teasing at her mind, Rachel's gaze traces her wife's beloved features, admiring the way the moonlight from the window falls across her face and sets her hair aglow on the pillow, and the seeds of an idea begin to take root. Smiling to herself, she curls around Quinn's body and presses a soft kiss to her naked shoulder as she finally lets her eyes fall closed.

In her dreams, those seeds grow into a beautiful family tree.