"So not even a biobed?" I sit at one of the chairs that surround the island, watching my husband cook our dinner.

"Not a one! Can you believe it?"

"I thought that all of medicine was biobeds and scanners!"

"To tell you the truth, I was beginning to think so too."

"Dinner smells wonderful Jean Luc. What is it?"

He turns and smiles, "I thought I'd give making risotto a try. We'll see how it ends up in a few moments."

"I'm sure it'll be wonderful. So, how was your day?"

"Well, I started writing my preliminary findings on Galen's research after you left and once I got far enough on that I started doing my own research on texts to use for my two upper level courses."

"Any luck?"

"Mmm.. I've narrowed it down to two and I've submitted them to the department head to get his thoughts."

"Jean Luc, you're never going to believe this but the moment that I walked in this morning, Hope knew I was pregnant."

He turned and smiled, bringing dinner with him. "I still can't believe it, Beverly."

"Me too." I smiled, but then my higher senses take over and I'm reminded that I haven't eaten anything proper all day, "I hope you made a lot of this, Jean Luc – I'm hungry."

He couldn't help but laugh, "Beverly, that is a silly query. Being married to you would demand me making no less than can feed an army."

/

I can't believe that this is my fourth month of pregnancy. I seem to have gotten lucky again this time. Other than a few bouts of vomiting in my first trimester, things are going well. I even feel better. I have more energy. And let's not get started on my libido.

But even in spite of how wonderful I feel, I know something is wrong. I haven't told Jean Luc. I should. But I don't want to worry him. Everything has been going so well with his classes. It's only been a few weeks now, but he loves his students. What he loves the most though, is his relative degree of anonymity. Most of his students either don't know that much about Starfleet or, in some cases, they don't really care to. He was even proud to report to me that only one student knew who he was. I love coming home to him at night and hearing about his lectures and his students. He gets so excited when the class interfaces with him and asks questions. He says it's a completely different thrill than what he was doing on the Enterprise. The Enterprise, he says explored space, but with the students, he's exploring and shaping the minds that are going to shape future generations.

I'm trying to keep positive. I'm trying to stay upbeat and optimistic, but I can't shake this niggling feeling that something's wrong with the baby.

"Beverly," I hear his voice speak softly as I feel his weight settle next to me on the sofa. "Beverly, what's wrong?"

"Jean Luc, it's nothing." I try to throw him off, but my voice betrays me.

"Beverly, it's not nothing. Look at me." I can't. If I look at him then these damn pregnancy hormones will make me cry and I just don't want to worry him! But my tears are unavoidable when he gently tilts my gaze to meet his own.

"Tell me," he implores softly.

"I…I…" I can't help it as a torrent of strong emotion washes over me, "I don't know but I think there's something wrong with the baby."

His hand protectively moves to the small bump on my abdomen, "why do you think there's something wrong?"

"I don't know, I can just feel that something's not right."

I see his posture change. He lets his shoulders down and he slowly draws me near to him. I feel his arms envelop my body and pull me up on to his lap. I can't help it but can't stop crying. "Shhh… Beverly. Let's set up and appointment with a specialist at the hospital. Don't worry. I'm sure we can take care of it. You know as well as anyone that surgeries can be performed inside the womb – if that's even necessary. And who knows this might just be a case of nerves."

I breath in his scent, grounding myself to him, "I know. I'm just nervous."

He once again tilts my gaze to meet his own, "I know. But there's no reason to be. Tomorrow contact the specialist at County General and make an appointment and we'll go together."
I nod my head and remember an old proverb that Nana used to tell me when I was nervous. She always said: "do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble".