Golden-haired, chubby-cheeked Jonathan giggled as he ran in his wobbly way. Clark was chasing him, pretending he couldn't quite catch him. Jordan sat in the corner, getting increasingly frustrated with a wooden puzzle he was trying to put together. Laughingly, Lois climbed onto the floor and helped guide the pieces to fit, and she sighed with contentment.
She hadn't always been able to picture herself as a mom and now she couldn't imagine herself as anything else. This moment with all her boys was paradise on earth.
Lois broke the news after they put the boys to bed. They were standing in the doorway, admiring how sweet and peaceful the boys looked asleep in their cribs.
"They're a handful, aren't they?" Clark said though his loving tone said he was enjoying every minute of fatherhood.
"Not as much of a handful as I worried they'd be. Just the usual twin troubles."
"I wouldn't give it too much thought. I'm full Kryptonian and even I was a pretty normal toddler to hear my mom tell it. We've got awhile before we have to start looking for powers."
"I wouldn't really care if they did. They're perfect. And it's about to get even more perfect around here."
Clark had to think about that for a moment, and she watched the various emotions register on his face: confusion, surprise, hope. "Lois, do you mean?"
Her smile confirmed it. "Yes, I'm pregnant."
He was elated. He picked her up and spun her around in celebration. There had been a time when they had considered the possibility they wouldn't be able to have children at all. Despite all appearances, they were different species, and now here they were with twins and another on the way. It was truly a miracle, and they'd received three of them.
sss
"Another kid overdosed?" she said angrily even as tears pricked her eyes. Stories like this had always pulled at her heartstrings, but that was even more true now with a family of her own. She felt that mother's pain, and she wanted justice. "I know Bill Church is involved in the uptick in Metropolis' drug problem. He's shipping them in by boat. I know it with every fiber of my being."
"Maybe so," Perry said, "but I don't want you to go down to the docks. If it's true, it's going to be well-protected, and in your condition..." he said, trailing off.
She sighed, knowing he was right but hating it. She was almost at the three-month mark. They'd just found out the other day that it was a girl, and though she and Clark would have been happy whatever gender their baby had turned out to be, they were pretty excited to be getting a girl this time.
They'd even chosen a name. Since the boys were named after Clark's side, they'd picked out Natalie. She'd lost her mother at an early age and her father had always been emotionally absent. Grandma Natalie had been a safe haven in her childhood, a well of love, advice, and sweets.
Frustrated, she sat down at her desk and pulled up the internet. Just because she was being relegated to desk duty, didn't mean she couldn't turn up something of importance. And she was sure Clark would check out the docks for her as soon as he got back from his Superman duties. She could feel her blood pressure rising as she pulled up an old video of Bill Church at a charity auction, playing the generous entrepreneur. She hated those types more than she hated the thugs on the street. At least the thugs were honest about who they were.
"Ms. Lane," Jimmy said, holding up a newly printed photo of Superman pulling people out of a fire. "This will go good with your article for the evening edition, won't it?"
She was annoyed by the interruption, but she took the photo, "Yeah, it's-" she stopped as there in the corner of the photograph was Bill Church. Was it a coincidence or had he or one of his goons set the fire up to hide evidence?
Suddenly, she was hit with intense cramping like her insides were being ripped out.
Jimmy's eyes rounded to the sized of saucers. "Ar-are you in labor?"
"I need to get to the hospital."
Maybe she pushed the supersonic distress signal by accident as she doubled over or maybe he could sense something was wrong. Regardless, Superman came into the Planet, not bothering with the formalities or explanations as he scooped her into his arms and out the window he flew.
The hospital was only a couple blocks from the Planet, but she didn't make it there before the bleeding came. However, the doctor informed her there was nothing to be done but wait for her body to finish the process it had begun, to expel the remnants as the doctor so clinically put it.
At first, she was just shell-shocked. She didn't know whether to scream at the injustice of it or cry. She'd never felt more powerless than she did in that moment, and she knew Clark was probably feeling the same. He wanted to get down on the hospital bed with her and wrap his arms around her, but of course, he couldn't, so instead, he said, "I'll find your husband, Ms. Lane. Let him know and get him here myself."
She didn't even have the energy to acknowledge it, but no one seemed to expect her to, and Clark was back in seconds in normal dress. He sat down and just held her, and she allowed the tears to come. It only took thirty minutes for the dreams and hopes they had for their daughter to come to naught.
sss
Clark was great through it all as he always was. He took her home, he ensured the boys stayed with Martha for a few days, he waited on her hand and foot when she couldn't get out of bed that first day. He was home more often than not when it was usually the other way around. He listened to anything she had to say, but she didn't have much to say. He'd lost his child too, and she didn't want to make it any harder for him, and worse, she couldn't handle it if he blamed her. He should. She blamed herself. Why had she insisted on working through her pregnancy? Even her boss had seen the need for her to cut back. She was in a high-stress, sometimes very physical job, and now she was paying the price for it and so was her husband.
She coped the way she coped with every problem in her life. She researched. She checked out every book in the library and combed the net for every article on the topic until she was an expert on all the facts and statistics. It was even comforting to a degree when she found a forum of women who had gone through miscarriages, and she read their stories. She checked all the boxes like taking time off work to process it though really that made it worse. She wanted to keep busy, to have something to do, something to focus on, besides all the pain she was feeling. There was only so much cleaning you could busy yourself with before the apartment was spotless.
Her father came to visit her once during those days. He never said anything to her about it, but his eyes said it for him. He'd expected this to happen. The leading cause of miscarriages was genetic issues, and hadn't she and Clark been taking a gamble, mixing two such different genetic backgrounds? It would have been crazy to not expect it is what he wanted to say. She couldn't deal with it, and she asked him to leave. More like demanded it really.
Clark came into the room after he was gone with a business card. "Your father left this. He has a friend at the DoD, a therapist. He says she's really good."
And she was good. She could never really tell her everything, but she was able to tell her enough and just telling someone even a little of what she was feeling did help.
Picking up the boys was probably the best medicine of all. They came running to her, throwing themselves around her legs. She was their world, and they'd missed her as much as she'd missed them. She showered them with hugs and kisses, promising herself that she would never let anything bad happen to them.
Present
Lois was helping Clark clean out the attic. She opened a ceder chest, surprised to find a baby's quilt. It was a simple design, soft pink and yellow squares that held occasional embroidery on some of them like a balloon or a heart. It was the name at the top that got her though, Natalie.
She closed the lid back and sat down on top of it, hugging the blanket close to her chest. Clark came over and sat down beside her. "Mom started on it as soon as we had the name picked out. She finished it even after we lost Natalie. I think it was her own way of dealing with the grief."
"It's beautiful."
"She would have shown it to you, she was just afraid-"
"That I would totally lose it. Yeah, I probably would have, but I really am better about it this time."
"I know. I heard you tell John Irons that it wasn't his fault that he lost his family, that sometimes things just happen and there is nothing you could have done or not done."
It struck her that this was the first time they had talked about their daughter out loud to each other without holding back since their loss. "There were pictures of her in the van of Natalie at various ages. She was so beautiful. I know in my heart that she wasn't our Natalie, but it was still hard."
He put an arm around her with that silent strength of his.
"Do you ever wonder what she would be like if she lived?" she asked. "What she would look like at the age she would have been, what her interests would be?"
"All the time," he answered, laying a kiss on top of her head.
She leaned up against him. He understood what she was going through in a way no one else could, and this conversation was healing. "Do you think there's a version of Natalie out there somewhere that's living a full life? That will grow up and have a career, a marriage, children?"
"Probably, but it will never erase what we lost. I have to believe though that one day I'll see her. Finally meet her and tell her how even though I never got to see her or hold her in my arms, I love her with all my heart and am proud to be her father."
Tears blurred her vision. She had to believe that too. That she waited in heaven for them. Maybe Martha was hugging Natalie now, telling her about the quilt she made for her.
A breeze touched her cheek and though she knew the attic was drafty, she couldn't help thinking it was a sign from her little girl, the breath of an angel, letting them know that she would always be with them.