Even as the weekend came to a close, the baby's movements became stronger, though they were still just little pokes and jabs, and the feeling of tiny arms and legs moving against the wall of her womb.
She would often sit, on the sofa, or lie in bed and, press on her belly, pushing against her child's foot or sometimes even the solidness of the baby's back. That her child was now something that could be felt, that moved and slept and lived, and that she was privy to it, was completely new territory for her.
The attachment she'd had to this life a few weeks ago was nothing compared to the affection she felt for it now. That she could now feel and interact with her child filled her with longing to see it with her own eyes, to be able to hold it and rock it to sleep.
She was now less uneasy about the appointment with the doctor, which was a mere week off, than she had been earlier. Now that she had felt her child's movements, she felt more confident that it was healthy. As well, she hadn't had any complications, either, so far, no pain or cramping or spotting.
She was still uneasy about letting anyone else in on her little secret, as if keeping it to herself would ensure everything would be fine.
She wondered, as well, if she was perhaps being a more than little paranoid about MI6's concern in her health affairs. M had absolutely no clue about her pregnancy, of that she knew. If she had, she would not have hesitated to let Vesper know.
So why would she have such a vested interest in Vesper's health? She had recovered physically from her ordeal and M was aware of that. She was certain that would have been the extent of the woman's concern.
This assuaged her apprehension as the days counted down to the eighteenth of December, and as she grew even stouter around her middle and her child grew stronger, the kicks and flutters becoming even more vigorous.
She woke early that day, unsurprisingly. It was overcast, and just as unsurprisingly, fat raindrops fell lazily to the ground.
She rose and ate, showered and cleaned her teeth. She spent some time in front of the mirror, naked, amazed at how her body had changed in the mere four weeks since she'd discovered her condition. The little bump had become a swollen rounding, straining and pushing at her abdominal muscles. It hadn't grown out much further past her breasts, which had grown considerably themselves, now swollen and webbed with blue veins, but it had moved up towards her ribcage, and she'd noticed that in the last few days she'd been becoming increasingly short of breath.
She was still fairly comfortable, except for the aches and pains as her body accommodated the baby's growth, and the urge to urinate, which felt like nearly every few minutes. She poked and prodded at the area, still not quite able to believe that this was her body, which had always been so lithe and slim.
She had never imagined her thin body could grow like this, could expand and nourish and feed another life. She smiled at herself in the mirror, running a hand over her belly.
She'd noticed as well that she'd gained a little weight in her face as well, and the big dark circles that had been around her eyes for these past few months had lessened. She looked much healthier now, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright, her hair now full and vibrant, no longer lank and lifeless around her face. Pregnancy agreed with her, she decided.
She dressed warmly, wearing the big woolly jumper that had the distinction of being the only article of clothing she owned that could now hide her condition, a coat and hat and her umbrella and set out.
Apprehension began to creep in as she strolled towards her destination, though the softly-falling rain helped to calm her somewhat. She began taking the deep, soothing breaths that had helped her before and by the time she entered the surgery, shaking off her sodden umbrella, she felt much more composed.
She checked in at the desk and sat down in the waiting area. There were only three other people waiting, a woman much more advanced in pregnancy than Vesper was, and an elderly couple. The woman smiled at her, and Vesper found herself instinctively pulling at the front of the sweater, hoping her distended abdomen was not visible.
She was called in soon after, and after a momentary hesitation when the nurse called out what was now her name (she was still not used to it, was not sure she ever would be), she entered and sat down on the examining table.
All through this she controlled her breathing, deeply and evenly, staring ahead at the anatomical posters on the wall. Still, her pulse had quickened, and the baby, perhaps sensing her distress, woke from its morning nap and began some frenzied kicking and twisting. This calmed her, somewhat, and she pushed at the little protrusion in her side, stroking her child's foot for a few seconds before it disappeared.
Soon after, the doctor entered, a smile on his dark face. He introduced himself as Dr. Grewal and extended his hand to her. She took it, shaking it timidly. He had a slight Punjabi accent, but spoke English fairly well.
"What can we do for you today?" he asked, sitting down at the desk, and placing her folder upon it.
She took a deep breath and told him, as best she could, glossing over things she'd rather not discuss, and others which were matters of national security, and as she went on, the man nodding impassively at her story, writing in her file from time to time, she found it got easier.
Four months of her life spilled out, and when she was done, she took a deep breath and felt spent, but better somehow, lighter.
She looked up at the doctor, who was now writing in her file on the desk. He seemed unfazed by her story, and asked her when her last period had been, and she almost laughed, because it seemed to have been so long ago. It had been another lifetime. She thought back, nonetheless, and told him the date. He wrote it down. He asked if she'd taken a pregnancy test. She said no.
He asked her about alcohol, about smoking, diet and drug use, and she told him, heartened somewhat by his words of praise for her abstinence. He asked about family history and she told him of her mother's death from lymphoma at age thirty, her father's alcoholism and what little else she could remember.
"And the father?" he asked, looking up at her over the metal rims of his spectacles.
"Not involved," she said, and looked away. She started the breathing again, looking out the small window at the bright grey sky, pushing back the thoughts that came to her, unbidden. When she was calmed, she looked back down. The doctor was still writing.
"Okay," he said, when he had finished, "I'm just going to take a look at you, if you don't mind."
He took her blood pressure, Vesper wincing as the tight cuff cut into her arm, then wrote it in her file. He then motioned for her to lie back on the table, which she did. She took a deep breath as he pulled up her top, revealing her swollen abdomen to another person for the first time. She looked up at the ceiling as he poked and prodded her belly. The baby was still moving vigorously, and at one point he smiled and looked down at her.
"You feel its movements?" he asked, and she nodded. "Any morning sickness?"
She shook her head.
"Cramping? Spotting?"
Again, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with this and helped her back up. She covered herself again and he sat back down at the desk, writing more in her file. Then he took a cardboard wheel out of a drawer and spun part of it, writing down what it said. He turned to her.
"Your pregnancy seems to be progressing well, Miss Wright, and there are no signs of any anomalies. I would like to get some urine from you to test, and of course you will need a scan."
She nodded.
"Now, you are quite a bit further along than most patients I see. I believe you are about twenty-one weeks along, so it is important to get a scan as soon as possible. I'll do my best to get you and appointment in the next week or so, alright?"
"Okay," she replied.
"Now, have you put any thought into a birth plan, or where you're going to deliver?"
Vesper shook her head, smiling apologetically.
The doctor nodded, sympathy on his face. "You've still got time," he said, smiling. "See the nurse before you leave, and I'll get back to you about that scan, alright?"
She nodded, and thanked him.
"And, oh," he said, as she was about to leave, and she stopped in her tracks, turning to him, "I suppose you would like to know your due date?"
She nodded. In truth, she hadn't even thought to ask.
"Likely around the end of April, but I can't be too sure. They'll be able to give you a more exact date after your scan, okay?"
Vesper nodded, and left. April. Four more months and she would be a mother. It was difficult to believe. She could only smile and shake her head.
As she walked home from her appointment she was amazed at how relaxed she felt. A great weight had been lifted by finally speaking with someone about her condition. She felt accomplished now, like a hurdle had been cleared. She'd been encouraged as well by his findings, and his assurances that she was healthy and that the baby was developing well. There was still the scan, and she was sure, several more appointments after that. But it was enough for now.
When she reached the flat it was still raining, and she made herself a cup of tea and curled up with it on the sofa, staring out at the wet city, feeling better than she had in quite some time.