Pregnancy was something that had never, ever once crossed Korra's mind as something that she would experience. Being the Avatar, she had always assumed that she would be too busy for such a thing... not to mention her heavy metal poisoning that she had suffered when she was eighteen had made her believe that having children at all was an impossibility.
So she cursed herself for her stupidity when she realized that assuming was not the same as cold hard truth, and that there were always exceptions to a rule. Assuming that her reproductive state was thoroughly screwed up since the poisoning, she had never bothered to use protection when it came to sex... nor required her partner to use any. She groaned and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, feeling almost as if she wanted to cry... or laugh at the situation she had gotten herself into. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have known better.
There were signs too, signs she had ignored or mistaken for something else, something insignificant. Her sense of smell for the last three weeks had heightened to an almost alarming level, to the point where Pema's (otherwise delicious) mushroom stew had been so strong that Korra had felt ill. The feeling of nausea had brought such a wave of horrible memories of her battle to recover from the poisoning that she had rushed from the table in her hurry to leave, a mild panic attack striking her before she could go and meditate. That had rattled her (panic attacks were few and far in between, but still a side effect she had yet to shake), and thereafter she seemed to be more easily prone to tears- and over the weirdest things, too. A song on the radio (a lively lindy hop) had her throat tighten, and seeing little Rohan preform a simple marble trick had prompted real live tears from her, much to her horror.
Desperate for answers, she went to Pema. Katara was gone- a thought that never failed to bring on more tears, pregnancy aside- and her own mother was halfway across the world. Pema would know what to say, surely. And if not... well...
"It sounds like you might be suffering from a hormonal imbalance, Korra." The woman smiled kindly, though there was a shadow in her eyes that lingered when Korra admitted that she had been having a panic attack or two. No one on the island could forget the sight of the Avatar battling horrific physical and mental trauma, after all, and Korra suspected that everyone worried she might relapse.
However, it had been well known that Korra had only just recently ended a relationship, and when Pema had tacked on the question of "Had you been using protection at all before your breakup?" Korra felt a different sort of panic. "What... I..." Why would she ask me that? "I thought Kya said that the poison had ruined most of my chances for.. um..." It was awkward even saying the word. "I know that Su got it all out of my system, but still. I thought I'd never need to worry about that sort of thing."
The shadow of worry lifted a little from Pema's hazel eyes, the notion bringing on something both familiar and new to think about. "It is still a possibility, Korra. It can't hurt just to check it out. If you are pregnant, then we need to know about it as soon as possible."
So that was how Korra found herself in her room, taking the water from the pitcher that sat on her bed stand and allowing it to cover her hands and glow; the flow of chi in her hands melding with the water and sinking into her body, searching out any abnormalities that might be within. What should I look for? She wondered uneasily, slowing the motions and concentrating harder. A heartbeat? A different energy underneath my own, like Raava's?
When she paused over her womb and allowed the water's chi flow to spread out, she sucked in a sharp breath as an impossibly faint, rapid, and very much alive rhythm made itself known. The chi collected into the tiny bundle was unique even as it was connected to her own; and an even tinier heartbeat could be felt fluttering, stirring it's own miniscule currents of life. Too stunned to hold the flow, Korra dropped the water onto the floor; burying her head in her hands as she realized what she had discovered would change absolutely everything in her life... and it was too late to change anything about it.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She stayed like that for nearly an hour, her head in her hands, her mind a whirl of thoughts that swung back and forth between panic and a very slow growing wonderment. I'm going to be a mother... I've got the world to try to keep in balance, and now I've got someone who will be entirely dependent on me for the next seventeen or eighteen years. Boy was that a terrifying thought. Oddly enough, it was also a strange comfort, to be needed. The Air Nation had taken up the mantle of peacekeepers, something that had once been the Avatar's sole backbreaking duty. It had been both a relief and a terrible blow to her self worth when it had first happened, but now... I might be able to do this. I never knew I wanted this, but now that I think about it, it's not so bad after all. Challenges were usually relished by Korra, and she couldn't deny that this was going to be an enormous undertaking. Being a single parent was going to be hard enough, being the Avatar on top of that was going to be the hardest and (hopefully) most rewarding thing that Korra could ever think of accomplishing.
Is this what Aang felt like? He and Katara probably were expecting to be expecting, though, so maybe not...
Thinking of Katara always brought a fresh wave of sadness, and she found herself touching the necklace that the venerable old woman had given her just before she passed on. A touch for luck, a touch for a hope of some otherworldly wisdom (though Korra still felt as unenlightened as ever), and a touch to reassure herself that she had been believed in- even when things had been at their worst, Katara had always been a very firm believer in Korra as both the Avatar and as an individual. She would have been happy for me. The realization came unbidden, surprising enough to prompt Korra to sit up and lift her head up a bit. She would have laughed away my worry and congratulated me, telling me stupid baby stories of Tenzin, Kya, and Bumi over a cup of tea.
The reminder of Tenzin prompted a small laugh from her, and with that she stood, giving her (still perfectly flat) abdomen a long look before squaring her shoulders and striding through the door to tell everyone the news. I can do this. I'm not alone, and I have friends who will be with me through this.
