Hours later she peels her face off her drool soaked pillow, and opens her eyes. She finds Noah sitting on the end of the bed. She fumbles around the bedside stand until she manages to turn on her lamp.

"What are you doing in here?" She shifts into a seated position.

"I woke up, and I realized I had a really weird dream. Then I thought about it, and I don't think it was a dream at all. Did you talk to me about having a sister? Or did I imagine it?"

"You did not imagine it."

"I am just wondering if that was a reality, or a hypothetical situation."

"What do you want it to be?"

"Reality. Mom I don't want to make you feel guilty, or anything, but I have been dreaming of having a sibling since I went to pre-school."

Olivia shakes her head, "You never said anything."

"Am I really getting a sister?"

"That is certainly my understanding."

"When? How? Tell me everything."

"I don't have all of the details. She won't be for a few months."

"I can live with that. What did you mean when you said that you hadn't met her?"

"I haven't met her, because she hasn't been born yet."

"Oh. Where is she coming from?"

Olivia opens the drawer of her bedside stand, and pulls out an ultrasound picture. Noah carefully studies the black, and white image.

"Mom, this picture has your name on it," Noah purses his lips, "What does that mean?"

"When they take one of these pictures it is while the baby is still cooking. So usually the mom is the actual patient, and that's whose name ends up on the top."

"I hope you don't think I'm trying to be rude, but you're kind of old to have a baby. Isn't that what you're saying?" His brow furrows.

She laughs nervously, "Yes, Noah, that is what I am saying."

"You're having the baby, as in, it is inside of you right now?"

"Yes," Olivia nods in confirmation.

"Are you sure?"

"I am very sure."

"Is this something we are keeping a secret?"

"For a while."

"How long?"

"I'll let you know when it is okay to tell people."

"Mom, just to be clear I'm not sharing my room with a crying baby."

"Understood," she laughs.


After depositing Noah at school Olivia finds herself in a clinic awaiting her appointment. She mindfully manages her roller coaster of emotions as she goes through each piece of the appointment. Eventually, after what seems like an eternity the doctor finally enters the room. The middle aged brunette with ceil blue scrubs, and eyes to match enters the room with a smile.

"I am Dr. Hansen," She greets Olivia in a peppy tone.

"Nice to meet you," she offers her feigned customer service voice.

"So it is my understanding that you landed in the ER after falling recently."

"Yes."

"That was where you found out that you were in fact expecting?"

"It was definitely a surprise to me. I really thought that ship had sailed."

"We don't consider menopause complete until someone has at least twelve months of missed menses. As you are obviously now well aware you can still get pregnant. It is relatively unlikely, and somewhat rare, but it is not impossible. I would like to do an exam, and then talk to you about a plan of action."

"Okay," she agrees.

The OB/GYN does the routine exam. She then calls in the ultrasound technician.

"We are going to do a 3-D ultrasound. It is what I prefer to use for an anatomy scan. It gives us a clearer picture."

Olivia nods in understanding. She watches in silence as the image comes onto the screen. After a few minutes the ultrasound is over, and the technician leaves the room.

"Everything looks great. The baby's measurements match the estimated gestational age from the lab results. I did note it also seemed to reflect the date of conception you identified in your paperwork. Your age increases your risk of several things that include, but are not limited to pre-eclampsia, gestational diabetes, and premature birth. It also increases the risk of genetic…"

Olivia cuts her off, "I fully understand the risks."

"We can do genetic testing if you chose to."

"I would prefer not to."

"So your preference is to proceed with the pregnancy?"

"Yes."

"I understand that you have a pretty high stress job. What do you plan to do to mitigate your stress?"

Olivia shrugs, "I don't have an answer for that at this point."

The doctor nods, "I would like to see you every week for the next few weeks. If everything continues without complication we can decrease those visits."

"Okay."


A few days turn into a few weeks, and the bubbles that once felt like little more than indigestion begin to feel like something else entirely. Olivia stands in her closet wearing her bathrobe. Her thick dark hair is secured to the back of her head with a black plastic clip. She folds her arms across her chest, stares begrudgingly at her wardrobe. At a certain age you don't lend much worry to a few extra pounds.

She peels off her robe, and peels a freshly purchased pair of slacks off a wooden hanger. Her newly purchased bra insists it is up for the job as she unfolds the pants. Her eyes drift downward, and the rounded edges of her abdomen are no longer a fact that can be denied. To anyone's naked eye her bare torso is clearly not being subjected to a few extra pounds. Only an expert in denial could miss a midsection clearly playing host to another human being. Her hand lingers for a moment. Eventually she manages to wrestle on an ensemble.

Standing in the bathroom mirror she applies her eyeliner. For a moment her mind wanders to Noah as a toddler sitting on the bathroom counter watching her every move with such deep fascination. The lid of the pencil is replaced, and her glance once again shifts to her midsection.

"I hope you aren't viewing my initial state of shock, and subsequent caution in a dim light. I can't wait to meet you, and hold you in my arms… when you are due to arrive."