As I was revisiting some of my favorite literary works I was inspired to write this one shot by Ernest Hemingway's six worded short story "For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn"

Because life never goes as planned and blessings often come in disguise.

Doing what is necessary…

Spock folded and stacked the soft pastel blankets and stuffed them in a large box in the center of their cramped quarters. He disassembled the small basinet that they had prepared for him only a week ago; this too went into the box. So many little things were placed throughout the room; there were bottles in the kitchenette, creams, lotions, and gels in the washroom neatly arranged on the small counter. The few drawers in their bedroom contained tiny shirts, diapers, and sleepers; they were all useless as well. Spock hurriedly cleared away the bottles, toiletries, and clothes, Nyota would be awake soon and he did not want her to be alone when she received the news.

As the doctors told them what they both had already figured out there was an intense feeling of guilt that seemed to posses Nyota as she rested in the biobed her hands clasped over her abdomen. More than anything she felt empty; she had not wanted him, not at first anyway. She loved Spock, she wanted to be his wife and have children someday. Someday, when they were officially bonded they would settle down on New Vulcan, obtain common jobs and raise a family, all very logical and responsible.

"Nyota…" Spock whispered slipping his hand around hers as she turned her face away from him, she hated for him to see her cry. Her pain was beyond his comprehension, not because she was human, the feeling surpassed the complex biological makeup of her species. For a moment he wanted to drawback from it, he was not meant to feel these feelings of a mother's loss.

Spock recalled how she had locked herself in her quarters when she had first realized her condition, it was his fault. They had been a couple for nearly two years but he still had not found a way to bring up such a delicate subject. She was fully unaware when he began to avoid her, choosing to mediate in his quarters for hours on end when he was not on the bridge. It had worked the previous time; he had been able to avoid having to fulfill the plak'tow concentrating on his meditation, it had not been easy then and this time it was to be satiated by meditation. The standard form of contraceptive that he had been issued had no effect on him during this stage. When she came to him concerned about his distance and the sudden change in temperament his lack of control overtook him.

She despaired having to give up her career with Starfleet just as it had begun; it was just too dangerous to try to raise a child aboard the Enterprise, peace keeping missions could be incredible dangerous. Spock expressed his displeasure at the prospect as well but had stated that it was the logical thing to do; they both had to make sacrifices. Throughout the pregnancy Nyota had made sure to take her vitamins and supplements, she exercised regularly and nearly always felt nauseous and feverish. She had been miserable in the hot cumbersome uniform that she had to wear. Then there the constant poking and prodding by the medical staff that were unsure of how to care for an interspecies pregnancy.

Everything changed, as they lay in their bed one night, her back sore from hunching over her communications console all day. He kicked, it was a small barely noticeable bump, but she had felt it, his small declaration I am here. She stroked him, talked to him, and prayed for him; suddenly her discomforts fell away as the reality of her son casted a Thanks fot Euphoric glow around her. How had she not wanted him all this time? They began to prepare for his arrival; Spock's father had found them a modest yet comfortable home on New Vulcan and had procured him a job as instructor at the fledgling science academy.

His birth was over a month away the morning Nyota bolted upright in bed, doubling over from the pain of a severe cramp, her shrill scream had roused Spock from his morning meditation routine. He rushed to their bedroom to find her sitting up cradling her swollen abdomen; her eyes were riveted on the crimson stain forming on her night gown. As he rushed her to Sickbay Spock knew it was too late, the gentle presence that he had grown accustomed to had quietly faded away as he led Nyota down the corridor to the medic station.

He held her hand now as McCoy ran a battery of tests, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. When they were alone once more Spock felt himself cave. As her cool hand rested in his, her sorrow consuming him he allowed her to share his pain. At that moment she turned toward him, her eyes red swollen. "S'ti th'laktra" he whispered brushing the side of her face with the back of his free hand.

S'ti th'laktra = I grieve with thee