Lady Taevyn: Hm, maybe Christi should show up in the middle of the delivery, thanks for suggesting it.
Lethia: I'm glad you enjoyed the mention of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, lol.
Shariena: You'll see part of the reason Lenore doesn't want children in this chapter, so read on.
BrackCatOden: Yay! You're back!! I'm glad you still love the story. I think I've lost a few readers. Le sigh. I haven't heard from Mominator or LoveMe1010 in forever…but maybe they've just been too busy to review or some such. You say Erik should be horse whipped for not letting Lenore have a choice about having a baby. You wanna horse whip Erik, be my guest. But I'm personally not risking my life for that. Also, it'll be a long time before Lenore really finds anything out about Erik's past. He's an expert at this mental stuff and she's just a beginner. It'll take a few years at least until she's anywhere near mastering this stuff.
MJ MOD: The only reader to worry that Satan may have somehow cursed the child. Well, don't worry, I assure you Satan didn't curse the child. The child is just fine. Lenore will live with being a parent even if she doesn't really want to be a mom at this point in her life. And of course Christi (and the friend she is based upon) isn't human, she's the embodiment of Hell. She's Hell taking on a humanoid form to trick us mortals!
Artzee: Yay for musicals done which lets you sleep (and review).
Adusiriel: You didn't have to be registered to review. All you needed was a name (which you clearly have one, unless your parents decided not to give you a name which is just weird) and an email address. But it's cool that you registered on the site. I'm glad you're always looking for updates. Next time you review, if you put a little check in the box next to the line that says "Add story to my Story Alert List", you'll get an email every time I put up another chapter. That way you don't have to keep checking my page, lol. Not that I mind you checking my page or anything. Just thought I'd try to make a helpful suggestion or something…
Black Hole Phoenix: Yeah, negative review much! lol. Anyways...no one else seems to think there's anything wrong/off with the sex scenes. And as for the grammar thing...that was just me accidentally missing the word (letter, whatever) 'a' before the dash (hyphen)...so it was just me making a stupid mistake and not paying enough attention to my typing. It happens to the best (and the worst) of us.
I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place about twenty years into the present, blah blah blah, REVIEW…
"Let me sleep," Lenore whined when Erik shook her awake at around six a.m.
"We have a train to catch," Erik reminded her.
"Well maybe you should have thought of that when you kept waking me up for sex last night," Lenore mumbled, snuggling into the mattress.
"Just get up and start getting dressed," Erik demanded.
"No, I need rest. For the baby," Lenore said, hoping that would be a good enough excuse.
"You need to get up and have breakfast for the baby," Erik contradicted.
"The kid's gonna be fine if I wait another four or five hours to eat," she responded.
"Then it won't matter if you have to wait another fifteen hours to sleep," he reasoned.
"No," she whined again, clutching the blankets closer and burying her face in the pillow.
Moments later, the blankets were ripped from her grasp, exposing her to the cool air of the hotel suite. Erik's arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her out of the bed.
"You're positively cruel," she accused him when he set her on her feet and handed her some clothes.
"There is nothing cruel about it, chérie. I merely wish to make sure you don't make us late for our train, which will consequently have us miss the boat, which would put a slight damper on the honeymoon."
"Consequently is too big a word to use this early," she muttered. Lenore got dressed while Erik called room service, and moments later their breakfast arrived. "Erik…we can't possibly eat even half of what you told them to send up."
"You're eating for two now," Erik said in a tone that indicated that she should have seen the simple logic of ordering so much food because she was pregnant.
"Look, this brat isn't that big yet. All I need in the way of food is a very miniscule increase, if that," Lenore informed him.
"You shouldn't talk that way," Erik said with a scowl. "It's our child, not a brat."
"So should I replace the word 'brat' with 'angel'?" Lenore asked snarkily.
"May I see your wedding ring for a moment?" Erik inquired as Lenore started picking out what she was going to eat from the vast cart of food.
"Don't tell me you believe that whole wedding ring dangling from a piece of string can predict the gender thing. It's a ridiculous superstition," Lenore scoffed.
"Would you just humor me?" Erik sighed.
"I know that the gender's already been decided, but can't we wait for the ultrasound instead of trusting silly old wives' tales?"
"Who decided the gender?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"The sex chromosomes of that one sperm that got lucky," Lenore muttered darkly.
"Just let me have your ring," Erik insisted.
"You're all about logic, Erik. Superstition has nothing to do with logic," Lenore pointed out.
"Please."
"Why is this so important to you?"
Erik looked at the floor for a moment, obviously not sure how he wanted to answer that question. "Mademoiselle Perrault once let slip to me that my mother told her that my father used this method to predict that I would be a boy," he finally admitted.
"So it's a family thing," Lenore said after a moment. "Alright, but no matter what it says, we're picking out names for both sexes. Just until we know for sure by the ultrasound."
Erik took her ring the moment she had it off of her finger, and yanked a strand of hair from her head. He failed to mention that part… In moments, he had her ring dangling from the strand.
"You know, it might not work. Most people do this at three months or later," Lenore told him. "So don't be disappointed if it doesn't work."
Erik nodded his head absently, as if he didn't believe for one minute that it wouldn't work. He held the ring so that it was just above her belly button, and it slowly began to move in a circle. "A girl," he said with a smile. There was a note of relief in his voice that confused Lenore.
"Were you afraid a boy would steal my affections from you?" Lenore guessed.
"Not at all," Erik replied honestly, handing her ring back to her. "I don't mean to say it won't happen with a girl, but I just worry that a boy would have a greater chance of…" Erik paused there for a moment, quite clearly not wanting to say whatever he was thinking. He made a quick gesture to his face.
"Well, it wasn't a hereditary thing, so…you shouldn't worry about it," Lenore responded, giving him a hug. She knew he hadn't considered the possibility of passing on his deformity, as he'd always thought he'd never have children. And when he'd gotten the chance, he was so excited that he had the opportunity that he didn't think of any problems that might arise. "And there's all sorts of technology stuff today, so we'll know if…anything happens."
"Have your breakfast; the food's getting cold," Erik murmured after a few moments of silence.
Lenore began eating, thinking this over. She knew Erik was seriously worried about the baby, but she didn't know how to assure him it would be fine. "Maybe you should go to Hell, and ask Satan," Lenore suggested in between mouthfuls of croissant. "Somebody down there ought to know. I mean, they knew I was gonna die…"
"They wouldn't tell me, just to torment me," Erik grumbled.
"Beat it out of them."
Erik chuckled. "You never fail to entertain."
"I like trains, did I ever tell you that?" Lenore said excitedly as she all but bounced up and down in her seat.
"You drank the coffee, didn't you?" Erik replied. He'd suspected that. He had left her alone with the food for a few minutes, making sure all of their belongings were packed and ready to go. When he'd asked for his coffee, she told him there wasn't any on the cart. Which wouldn't be a lie if she drank it.
"Trains are fun. I rode on a train once before, when I was really little. And Krista, my friend, was looking really sick. My mom was chaperoning our group and told Krista that she could puke in the hood of my jacket if she had to," Lenore rambled.
"You're never having coffee again," Erik declared.
"Is it strange that I always wanted a train set when I was a child? I always loved the toys Mark and John had. I mean, I loved dolls well enough. But I wanted the Legos and domino sets, train sets, G.I. Joes…boys always have the fun toys. You know, the building things and the engine things and the violent, fighting things…All we girls get is dolls, and we're expected to dress Barbie up and have her keep house for Ken," Lenore continued. "Or go out to parties with Ken."
"Caffeine isn't good for you. And it's especially not good for the baby," Erik informed her. "No more caffeine, ma petite."
"But I love caffeine, it makes me happy," she bubbled.
"It's bad for the baby," Erik said through gritted teeth. Lenore was going to insist on having her caffeine, and Erik would have to put his foot down (rather forcefully).
"Caffeine is my friend," Lenore argued. "I'm not going to desert it, so there." She promptly stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention to the scenery outside the window.
"If you drink any more caffeine before the child's born, I'll let Raghnall study you," Erik threatened.
"Llamas!!" Lenore squealed excitedly, pressing her face to the glass for a slightly better look. "My aunt's cousin used to have llamas!"
"Whatever was I thinking when I wanted a child? My wife is practically a child herself," Erik muttered to himself. "Now I'll have to be responsible for two."
"Your fault," she said in a singsong voice, turning back from the window as the llamas had disappeared from view.
"Well, we all make mistakes," Erik replied.
"You don't have any place to complain! You're not the one who's gonna get fat, and spend hours puking, and have swollen ankles, and backaches, and mood swings, and have the kid kicking you, and giving birth," Lenore snapped.
"I'm sorry," he immediately responded. He had a feeling he might spend the next nine months repeating that phrase every few seconds. Especially considering how often Lenore disagreed and argued with him.
"Sorry enough to let me have caffeine?"
Good God, the woman was not only as energetic as a five-year old, but she seemed to have retained her cunning and manipulative nature! "Not that sorry, I'm afraid," Erik answered honestly.
"Boo, no fun," she griped.
"Do you think the caffeine rush will wear off before we get to Strasbourg, chérie?"
"I dunno, why?"
"Because I'd rather not have you jumping up and down like a child when we get on the boat," Erik shrugged casually.
"Hey, I went on a boat in fifth grade. A skiff, I think it was," Lenore babbled.
"You seem to have done quite a great deal of things in your life," Erik commented.
"Well, when you live twice…"
"Why can't I have wine?" Lenore snarled during dinner that night on the bank of the Rhine.
"You shouldn't drink now that you're pregnant," Erik stated.
"One glass of wine isn't going to be a problem," Lenore argued. "Come on! The Rhine valley has some of the best wine in the world! It'd be cruel not to let me have some!"
"Well, I didn't think it would be something to worry about when I planned this trip. I do apologize for that much," he granted.
"Is there anything I can do while pregnant?" Lenore snapped.
"Drink mostly water, take vitamins, exercise, gain the proper amount of weight, have a healthy diet, avoid stress, get plenty of rest, and try to keep your mood under control," Erik listed off.
"Well, pregnancy certainly sounds like zero fun and a hundred percent pain and suffering," Lenore mumbled.
"Perhaps we should look into the medical history of your biological parents from this life," Erik mused. "We need to know what the baby has a chance of inheriting."
"They're both dead," Lenore pointed out. "So who do you wanna ask?"
"I'm sure Hiroshi can find out for us."
"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"
"Naturally. You gain quite a great deal of wisdom when you live for one hundred and seventy eight years, which limits the amount of questions you can't answer to a very small number," Erik smirked.
"Hm. You know, I have no idea when your birthday is, Erik," Lenore observed.
"August sixteenth," he replied.
"Why didn't you ever tell me before?" she asked curiously.
"It's not important," he shrugged.
"Of course it is! You're supposed to get gifts and have a party and all," Lenore said.
"I don't like birthdays," Erik confessed softly. "Not my own, at least."
"You should be happy you were born. It's supposed to be celebrated," Lenore insisted.
"My mother…she only ever tried to, once. It…didn't go well," he informed her.
"It couldn't have been that bad," Lenore reasoned.
"You know nothing," he hissed, glaring at his plate.
"And I won't ever know anything if you don't tell me," she snapped back. Honestly! She was his wife. Why couldn't he just share things with her, like all other couples did?
"I was five," Erik began. "She told me I could have anything I wanted…but she lied. I got angry when she wouldn't give me what I wanted, so I came to dinner without the mask. Moments later, she took me upstairs and…I saw in the mirror…what I looked like beneath the mask."
Lenore bit her lip; she shouldn't have asked. Why couldn't I just drop it? Why couldn't I just leave it at the fact that he didn't like his own birthday? No, I had to open my big mouth and pressure him into telling me.
"I've never tried celebrating it since. I never told anyone when it was, not even Daroga."
"Well…maybe you should try celebrating it again. I mean, you shouldn't let one bad experience turn you off to birthdays," Lenore advised. "I'll show you how we celebrated birthdays in my family next August."
Later that evening in the hotel, Erik pulled out his drawing tools. The thick parchment, charcoal pencils, erasers, protractor, and a compass were spread out across the table as he prepared to settle down to work.
"What are you drawing?" Lenore asked curiously, worried that she was going to end up spending the evening reading a book while Erik sketched furiously, completely forgetting she was there.
"I'm redoing the upstairs hallway," Erik explained. "We'll need a nursery."
"Aww, are we gonna have pink bunnies on the wall?" Lenore said, trying to tease him lightly about his prediction of the baby's gender.
"Why would there be bunnies?" Erik inquired, giving her a puzzled look.
"Well…bunnies are cute. And nurseries are always decorated with cute animals," Lenore replied.
"Not in my time," Erik informed Lenore as he turned back to his parchment. "We should start thinking about her education…" he trailed off absently as he settled down to work.
Lenore shook her head; the baby had been conceived less than twenty four hours ago, and Erik was already worried about education. Realizing she hadn't brought any books along, Lenore ended up getting out the list for her thank you cards and worked her way through that chore. When she finished, around ten o'clock, she sighed heavily. "Erik, stop with the architecture. It makes for a very boring honeymoon," she said.
Erik put down his pencil reluctantly, then put his things away. "Perhaps we should discuss names," he suggested. "I like Melodie."
"Erik, this is our honeymoon. Do we have to do this now?"
"I don't want to keep saying 'she' all the time," Erik complained. "And we'll have to do it at some point, so why not now?"
"What if it turns out to be a boy? Then we'll have to do this all over again," Lenore pointed out.
"It will be a girl," Erik said firmly.
"You can't trust that ring on a string test!" Lenore contradicted.
"When you find out it's a girl, I'll expect an apology for doubting me," Erik replied.
"You're impossible to live with! See, this is exactly why I didn't want children. It's just going to be an endless cycle of arguing!"
"If you weren't so stubborn, we wouldn't argue half as much."
"Saying I'm stubborn is like the pot calling the kettle black," Lenore retorted. Then, something occurred to her. "We have to raise the kid to be Catholic."
"No we don't," Erik dismissed her comment.
"We said we would when we got married," she reminded him.
"Well, you're not Catholic, so I don't think you have to worry about disregarding that. And I'm eternally condemned, so it doesn't matter if I don't raise the child to be Catholic. If she wishes to attend regular sermons or Mass, fine and well. If not, I won't force her."
"If I end up burning in Hell for not raising the brat –sorry, the angel—Catholic, I'll find a way to kill you for it," Lenore warned him.
"Fine. Now, what names do you like?"
Lenore sighed and shook her head. She knew there was no getting out of it, so she'd have to suggest a few. "Shayl," she said.
"Shayl Melodie," Erik pondered, testing the names.
"Don't you like any other names? Maybe you should think about women who've been important in your life. Your mother or…maybe Christine," Lenore hesitantly said.
Erik snorted derisively. "Do you think I would name my child after women who were frightened of me and left me alone and unloved? The only truly important woman in my life is you. And we can't have the two of you sharing a name. It would get confusing." There was a brief pause. "Belle is always a nice choice. And Eleanor isn't objectionable."
"Shayl Belle. That sounds nice," Lenore commented.
"Do you have any other names you might wish to consider?" Erik inquired.
"Samantha. Penny. Dawn. Andra," Lenore listed off.
"Eleanor Dawn has a nice ring to it. Andra Michelle is another possibility," Erik mused.
"Alright, we've thought about it some. Let's put this on the shelf for now," Lenore said.
"I already told you I don't wish to keep referring to the baby as 'she' and 'her'. I would prefer to pick a name now," Erik responded.
"And what if it turns out to be a boy and you spend months calling it by a girl's name? Think of the mental scarring that poor kid will suffer."
"What do you think of Sonata Anne?"
"No. The initials would spell out 'sad'," she told him.
"Sonata Marie?"
"That's better."
"So, Shayl Belle, Eleanor Dawn, Andra Michelle, or Sonata Marie?" Erik pondered.
"Do we have to decide now? What if we change our minds?"
"We won't," he stated confidently.
"Well, I'd say let's throw out Shayl Belle and Andra Michelle," Lenore sighed, knowing she wouldn't be going to bed until they picked a name.
"Eleanor Dawn or Sonata Marie."
"They both sound really beautiful. Which one do you like best?"
"We have to agree on this, chérie."
"Why? We didn't agree on having the kid in the first place," she muttered.
"Am I never going to hear the end of that?"
"Pretty much."
"We're getting off track," Erik said. "Our daughter needs a name."
"Just tell me which one you're going to decide on, I'll say I like that one, and we'll be done with this. You always make all the decisions in the end, so just make up your mind and let me know what it is so I can go to bed," Lenore sighed.
"This is our child," Erik reminded her. "You should have some say in her name at least. I don't wish to pick a name only to find out you don't like it."
"It doesn't matter to me," she growled. "I don't want the kid at all. So I really don't care."
"Perhaps it's time you started caring, Madam," Erik snarled. "What you wanted makes no difference. This is how the situation is! Accept it, and start caring. I will not tolerate this attitude. My daughter will not suffer the pain of rejection from her mother as I did! And if you can't find it in your heart to love her and show affection for her, I'll kill you. I won't see another Madeleine Dessler, hating and hurting her child, dying inside from the burden of raising that child."
His threat was frightening. But it wasn't half as bad as the words about rejection and hurting the child. Those words stung deeply, to think that he might compare her to his mother, whom he clearly hated. They sat in silence, Erik glaring at her furiously while she stared at the floor in shame.
"Sonata Dawn," Lenore finally said. "That way, we both have a name we like."
Erik said nothing, merely nodded in agreement.
He didn't consider what he'd said to her harsh at all. No child should ever have to suffer a mother's hatred. Erik had meant it when he said he would kill her; it would have been painful for him, no doubt, but it would be in his daughter's best interest. And Hiroshi was living proof that a daughter could be raised by her father without becoming a tomboy.
Lenore was currently curled up in the bed, trying her absolute best not to let him hear her sniffling. Obviously he'd hurt her with his words. But he didn't want to apologize for what he said. It was all truth and he meant every word.
Well, isn't this wonderful? Married less than two days, and your wife is crying herself to sleep. Splendid job, Erik. She was right. She's not ready for a child. But there wasn't much choice. I wasn't given the opportunity to say when I wanted to receive Satan's wedding gift. And it was a one-time thing…it was the only chance.
Erik lay down next to her, placing a kiss on her shoulder. "Don't cry, everything will be fine," he assured her. He really didn't know what else to say.
"But you yelled at me. And you threatened to kill me," she sniffled.
"I know, but you don't have to cry over it. I love you," he reminded her.
"How can you even think of murdering the woman you love?" she all but wailed.
"If you were going to be anything like my mother, I'd be doing you a favor," Erik tried to console her.
"I should have married Ben and Jerry," Lenore sobbed as she pulled away from him and got out of bed. She went over to the miniature fridge in their suite and retrieved a carton of ice cream.
Deciding to ignore that comment about marrying two men, Erik addressed her choice of food. "That's not healthy for the baby."
"I don't care! I'm depressed! Life is sometimes sad, and Ben and Jerry's makes it all better," Lenore proclaimed through her tears.
Erik ran a hand through his hair; it seemed he was terrible at comforting his own wife. Well, she'd feel better if he lied and said he didn't mean it, that he really wouldn't kill her. But, he didn't really want to lie to her. Getting up, Erik got a spoon and sat down with her at the table. "Let me have some of that. I'm depressed, because I've upset you so badly," he explained.
It was good ice cream. A bit odd, with the coffee fudge swirl, but the coffee wasn't overpowering. It was quiet for several long minutes while they both consumed a vast portion of the pint she'd gotten out.
"What if I turn out to be like my mom?" Lenore said worriedly.
"You won't," Erik assured her. "And if you start acting that way, I'll be sure to inform you immediately."
"What if I'm a bad mommy?" she continued.
It would seem that her doubts were a large part of the reason she didn't want children. "Just do the best you can," Erik advised.
They'd been in a hotel in Vaduz, Liechtenstein for almost two and a half weeks. It was hard to believe that they'd been married for three weeks already. Lenore was currently wondering why pregnancy had to be such a pain, and the only answer she came up with was Satan. This was his fault for tempting Eve in the first place. Her breasts were swollen and very tender, and she was so hungry all the time. She was contemplating taking a pillow and blanket and setting herself up in the bathroom, as she seemed to be running to it every five minutes to vomit from morning sickness or else relieve her bladder.
"Can you get me fried chicken?" Lenore asked Erik. "I really want fried chicken, a whole bucket of it. I'm soooo hungry."
"Fried foods are too greasy, it's not healthy," Erik informed her. He was taking her condition very seriously. She walked a mile each day, and then spent the rest of her day either resting in bed or eating (also in bed). She took several vitamins. The only three beverages he allowed were water, juice, and milk. And the milk had to pass his standards or else she couldn't have that. He always checked to make sure the milk wasn't anywhere close to being spoiled.
"But…but…I want fried chicken," she said, bursting into tears. She wasn't quite sure why it upset her so much, but she couldn't stop herself from crying either.
"Couldn't you settle for something less greasy?" Erik pleaded.
"No," she sobbed, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to blow her nose.
"Alright, you can have the chicken," Erik sighed.
"Thank you," she sniffled, her tears now those of joy at being allowed the chicken.
"After you eat, I'd like you take a long bubble bath," Erik told her after calling the front desk and putting in that request for the chicken. "It'll make you feel better."
"Okay," she agreed, finally done weeping.
"I'll see if I can't find a doctor or midwife to give you a check up," he added.
"Do you think the chicken will be here soon?" she said in response.
"Well, first it has to be killed, plucked, cut, and cooked. So it could be a while," Erik teased her.
"Oh, very funny. Pick on the pregnant lady who's going to die of starvation," Lenore griped.
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" he inquired, having the decency to look ashamed at having upset her.
"Well, you can't carry and have the child for me," Lenore muttered. She thought about his question for a moment. "I wanna cuddle something furry. That would help a lot." She knew the Parkhotel Sonnenhof allowed people to have small pets, and someone was bound to have a cat or dog that she could cuddle for a bit.
"I would find it awkward to approach someone and ask to borrow their pet for my pregnant wife to cuddle," Erik informed her.
"Should it really be this awful?" Erik wondered aloud. He was referring to the morning sickness (though why it was called morning sickness when it could strike at any moment of the day was beyond him). He was currently kneeling next to Lenore, holding her hair back away from her face as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
To Erik, it seemed she threw up far too often. Two meals out of three refused to stay in her stomach. And he had her eating six small meals a day. At least she could keep water down, so she wasn't becoming dehydrated.
With a moan, Lenore pulled her head back from the toilet, looking absolutely miserable. She slumped up against Erik, too exhausted to want to hold up her own weight. That also worried him; she hardly ever seemed to want to move. It was a battle to get her out of bed for her mile walk each day, and she took naps in between meals.
Thankfully, Erik had managed to schedule an appointment with a local gynecologist three days from now. His greatest concern was that something was wrong with one of his females. Perhaps Lenore had inherited some strange pregnancy sickness from her mother, or maybe Sonata had a prenatal disease that somehow affected Lenore. And what if all this vomiting meant Sonata wasn't getting the nutrients she needed? He didn't know what he'd do if this turned out fatal for either of them.
So three days later, Erik dragged Lenore out of bed and to the gynecologist's office. He'd taken great pains to make sure it was a woman, as he would not have another man examining Lenore. As they sat in the waiting room, Lenore leaned her head against his shoulder and drifted off to sleep. Other expectant mothers who were further along smiled knowingly. One woman, not much further along than Lenore by the looks of her, glared at her husband, who was standing up, which left his wife unable to lean her head against his shoulder as Lenore had done with Erik.
"Frau Dessler," a nurse called after a good half hour of waiting.
"Five more minutes," Lenore mumbled sleepily.
Erik shook his head with a chuckle before scooping her up into his arms and following the nurse to a small examination room where the gynecologist was waiting.
"Guten Tag, Herr Dessler," the woman greeted him in her native German.
"Guten Tag, Doctor Musgrave," he replied. "I believe, once she's awake, my wife would prefer to speak English. She's not exactly fluent in German." Not that he was fluent in German either. He knew enough to greet someone and say good-bye, but that was about it.
"Two more minutes," Lenore murmured groggily.
"Now, chérie," Erik argued as he set her down on the examination table as per the doctor's gesture. He'd learned a useful little trick over the last few days. He snapped his fingers right by her ear and she jolted awake.
"I'm up," she said quickly, looking around with alert eyes. "Jerk."
"Good day, Frau Dessler," Dr. Musgrave greeted her with a smile. "So glad you could join us." The woman was clearly quite fluent in English and had only the slightest touch of an accent.
"Oh, pleasure's all mine," Lenore grumbled, glaring at Erik for waking her up.
"From what I understand, you're already pregnant. Did you have any appointments with a gynecologist before this?" Dr. Musgrave asked, getting right down to business.
"No, I haven't," Lenore replied, looking somewhat worried. "You're not going to…like…nothing's gonna hurt right?"
"It shouldn't hurt," Dr. Musgrave informed her. "You might feel a bit of discomfort, but not pain. Now, do you have any idea of when you conceived? Perhaps a particular week or maybe a few particular days."
"January the twenty-seventh," Lenore answered without hesitating.
"Are you positive about that?" the doctor inquired, truly shocked that anyone could pin it down to the exact date.
"A hundred percent positive," Lenore smiled.
"Well…" the woman was quite clearly flustered for a moment. "Oh, did you have it done in an insemination clinic?" She looked relieved at having thought of a way that Lenore could know the exact date.
"Nope, we did it the old-fashioned way."
Mentioning sex certainly didn't seem to embarrass the doctor at all. "And you only tried for a child on one day?" she inquired.
"Well, I was ovulating that day. So we knew that had the highest chances of success. We decided to give it one shot and then wait about a month and see if anything happened," Lenore lied.
"Alright. A bit unorthodox," Dr. Musgrave commented. "Well, you would be almost six weeks along now. The first two weeks of the first trimester are the two weeks before conception. So we're at the point where the morning sickness and the fatigue are getting into full swing."
"You mean last week was just the beginning?" Lenore asked in terror.
"I'm afraid so. At this point, you should definitely avoid alcohol, drugs, and other substances of that nature. I don't advise taking painkillers without consulting me, as certain types can have effects on the embryo. Also, I strongly recommend against treatments such as perms or getting your hair dyed, manicures, pedicures, that sort of thing."
"No problem there, Erik won't let me have any alcohol or drugs, I don't like getting perms or dying my hair, and I'll live without a manicure," Lenore responded. One thing she'd gotten used to in this Second Life was the occasional manicure. But she could remember her First Life, when a manicure wasn't something she cared about. She'd survive the next eight months or so without.
"As far as the embryo's concerned, the heart will start beating within the next few days. The eyes and ears will start forming, and many of the internal organs are rather far along in their development" Dr. Musgrave informed Lenore. "Now, I'm assuming this is the first time you've been pregnant?"
"Yeah," Lenore answered, looking somewhat nervous.
"Alright, was there any bleeding within the past four weeks or so? Even just a few spots?"
"Um…no, I don't recall any," Lenore said after thinking a moment.
"That's a good thing. It means you haven't miscarried up to this point." Dr. Musgrave continued talking while she readied a piece of equipment for the examination. "The next thing we need to discuss is the severity of the morning sickness and fatigue. After you give me your opinion of it, I want your husband to give me his assessment. Because it's your first time, you might think it's extremely severe and unbearable, as you're the one experiencing it. His contribution will help me assess how severe it actually is."
"Well, I think it's really bad," Lenore replied honestly. "I'm tempted to just move in to the bathroom. Save me a lot of time and energy. I feel like nothing stays down except water, and I'm always so exhausted. It's exhausting to just get out of bed."
"I quite agree with her assessment," Erik said when Lenore finished. "She eats six small meals a day and only retains two of those meals. She sleeps quite soundly in between trips to the bathroom and meals. All she does is eat, sleep, and vomit."
"Interesting," Dr. Musgrave mused. The piece of equipment seemed ready now, placed in a male contraceptive rubber that had been positively smothered in jelly. "This is for an ultrasound, Frau Dessler. It's an internal transducer, and it will give us a clearer picture of what's going on in there than an external transducer would. You'll feel a bit of pressure when this goes in, but it's nothing to be concerned about, it's perfectly normal."
A few minutes later, Dr. Musgrave, Erik, and Lenore were staring at the screen, having a peek on what Sonata was doing at the moment. "What's that?" Erik asked worriedly, pointing to something on the screen that Dr. Musgrave had talked about yet.
"When you first described the severity of the morning sickness and fatigue, I had a suspicion, but I didn't want to say anything until we could confirm it through the ultrasound," Dr. Musgrave began. "From your description, it sounded as though you might be having more than one child. So that right there would be the twin."
"Back this train up! I'm having two?" Lenore shouted. "Erik, this is all your fault!" She leaned over and started smacking him on the arm. She didn't know how it was his fault, but somehow, she just had the distinct impression he was to blame.
"I'm not responsible for what your egg does, woman!" Erik argued, scooting his chair out of her reach.
"If you hadn't gone and got me pregnant, this wouldn't be a problem," Lenore pointed out.
"Well, both babies seem to be in great condition right now. I'm going to ask to come back in a week so I can measure their heartbeats," Dr. Musgrave said as if Erik and Lenore weren't bickering over who was to blame for the twins. "Now Lenore, I suggest you include ginger in your diet. It'll help with the morning sickness. I recommend ginger snaps, but no more than four a day. Too much ginger can be bad for you and the babies."
After a few more instructions concerning diet (which limited her to non-greasy and mostly bland foods), they headed back for the hotel. Lenore was glad that they wouldn't be traveling all over Europe for the honeymoon. Erik's plan had been to take the Rhine down to Vaduz, spend the next couple months here, and then go back up the Rhine at the end.
"We'll need another name," Erik pointed out as they walked along the snowy street. He held onto Lenore with a death grip to make sure she didn't slip and fall.
"Are you going to do that whole ring on the string thing again?" Lenore inquired, wishing he'd loosen his grip a bit so that she could have blood flowing through her arm again.
"No," Erik said. "We simply need another name for a girl. Seeing as fraternal twins would indicate two different conception times, you would have felt both being conceived, but you only felt one. Therefore, you originally conceived one but then the egg split and these must be identical twins, which means two girls."
"Not necessarily," Lenore argued. "Harvard med students were saying that in some cases, when the egg splits, one drops a y chromosome and then other drops an x or something, and you end up with a boy and a girl."
Erik quirked an eyebrow at this new information.
"Really, it happens. It's extremely rare, but it's possible," Lenore said. "And I'm not going to pick a name for the second one until we know for sure."
"But"- Erik began to say.
"No arguing! My way or the highway!" Lenore stated firmly. "Now, let's pick up some Chinese, I'm starved."
"Le gasp! Twins!" Tammy said in surprise.
"What are you acting surprised for? You're the authoress, you knew this was going to happen! You hate me, that's why you made this happen," Lenore yelled, having another wonderful mood swing because of her condition.
"What gender is the other child?" Erik inquired, glaring menacingly.
"EEP!" Tammy squealed, ducking behind Raghnall and Christi. "Raghnall, Hiroshi, save me!"
"But I would very much enjoy studying Erik at work…" Raghnall pouted.
"I'd rather have to be untied to help," Hiroshi pointed out.
"Um…damn," Tammy muttered, wondering if she might be able to retrieve her yummy Uriel for protection. "Well, please review before Erik torments me for the gender of the other child, cuz he'll prolly end up killing me. I won't tell you a damn thing, Opera Ghost! My lips are firmly sealed!"