22: HM2V: S is for Sonogram

3:49 pm Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room

Harry held up the stick. It showed a bright, unmistakable "+" plus sign. "I hope you're ready for round two," he whispered, gathering Macy in his arms as they both began tearing up.

9 am, Two Weeks Later, She-Shed, Vera Manor Garden

"Mommy?" Macy, thoroughly exhausted, could feel the tiny fingers of her little girl gently poking her shoulder as she napped on the cot. "Mommy, are you sick?"

"Sweetie, come downstairs and go spend time with Aunt Maggie before she goes to work. She has some arts and crafts activities for you to try, ok?" Harry gently ushered Maya down from the second floor of the she-shed and back over to Vera Manor. Ten minutes later, he returned, carrying up a small tray, on which sat atop a glass of lemon-garnished ginger sparkling water and two gingersnaps; he laid it down on the floor beside the cot, sympathetically watching his wife suffer through the misery that was 1st trimester pregnancy.

Half an hour ago, Macy was supposed to have gotten a head start on drafting a journal article for future publication covering the Greek mythological figure Hypnos, the god of sleep. Five sentences in and one internet perusal later, she fell sound asleep on her keyboard and had been quickly orbed to the second floor by Harry, who insisted she rest on the cot. All she had eaten earlier that day were a couple of ginger chews and half a saltine cracker slathered in crunchy peanut butter.

For whatever reason, her symptoms had begun quite early. If she had timed things correctly, she was likely only six weeks along. Why then, Macy thought to herself, did she feel as though she'd been hit by a Mack truck? Two weeks ago, she felt perfectly healthy, able to go about and plant sprouts in the Epicenter Pico garden without a care in the world. And now, she was too tired to lift her head or even open her eyes let alone breathe, and she could have sworn that her side profile from earlier that week showed a slight plum-sized bump, which was definitely indicative of the beginnings of the second trimester—notthe first. If Macy had been just a trifle more alert, she would have known something was different about this particular pregnancy…

"Can you eat a little Macy?" Harry broke one of the gingersnaps in two and offered her a piece. "Please, love?" She shook her head, her eyes still closed. Vertigo and fatigue, the likes of which she'd never experienced before, even with Maya years ago. Truth be told, if someone told her right then and there to close her eyes for the next three months, she would have gladly taken them up on the offer. And paid them.

11 am, Vera Manor, Living Room

"Ah, Harry!" Morgana appeared in the Vera Manor living room, extending her hand, which Harry shook. "I arrived as soon as I could—where is she?" Harry stepped back, revealing Macy, asleep on the velveteen sofa.

"I know it's not yet seven weeks, but she refuses to eat and fell asleep at her desk, honestly, I'm really quite concerned—even Maya knows something's up, and she's only three. It doesn't seem nearly the same this time around—" Harry whispered in a low voice.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Macy's voice rang out and both Harry and Morgana gave a start.

"Macy, love, I called Morgana—you're clearly unwell, and we need to sort this out—" Harry began.

"Jeez, Harry, I'm pregnant not broken!" Macy breathed, her eyes still tightly closed. "It's 1st trimester, it's normal to be tired and crappy—"

"For fifteen hours a day?" Harry asked quietly. "This isn't like you, Macy, pregnant or not." Turning to Morgana, he paused for a moment. "Morgana, can you run tests to ensure my wife has adequate iron levels? Potassium levels?"

"Will do, Harry, just let me get on with my equipment first—hold your horses," she laughed, while Harry wore a look of fear and impatience on his face. "Why so panicked? You have nine months to prepare anyhow," Morgana muttered something under her breath, millennials these days; she pulled out her portable sonogram machine from her large floral-printed handbag. Turning on the device, Morgana dipped the ultrasound wand into the gel, rubbing it all over Macy's lower belly. Suddenly, a rapid thump-thump-thump-thump-thump could be heard, except that for whatever reason, the pulses sounded incredibly rapid and far closer together than Macy and Harry remembered the first time around.

"The heartbeat?" Macy asked, as Harry held her hand tightly, staring at Morgana.

"Well…" Morgana scrutinized the sonogram image, moving the wand across Macy's abdomen. "I believe I know why Macy's got slightly lower iron and potassium levels than normal."

Oh no, Macy thought to herself. I should have started taking those prenatal vitamins a full year and a half in advance! What if—what if something were to have happened with the baby? What if something wasn't right? What if something's wrong with…me? "Is there something we need to know about the baby, Morgana?" Macy's voice cracked with anxiety.

"First of all," Morgana turned the sonogram image toward Macy and Harry. "It's two babies."

11:15 am, Vera Manor, Living Room

"T-two?" Macy whispered.

"Yes, two." Morgana waved her hand over Macy's mid-section, waiting as if she were obtaining specialized calculations of a sort. "And your iron and potassium levels are somewhat low, so I'd recommend you take various over-the-counter pregnancy digestive tummy soothers, then try a banana smoothie, or frozen two-ingredient banana peanut butter ice cream. Quite easy to make at home, and popular with the neighbor's children too." Morgana looked at Harry pointedly, as if to say, that's your job. Harry understood. She switched off the machine and wiped off the gel with a disposable paper towel, which she tossed in a nearby trashcan.

"The babies' heartbeats are both robust, that's for sure," added Morgana. "I'll be back next month—get as much rest as you possibly can—well, as much as you can realistically have with a toddler around," she chuckled, then vanished.