Thorns That Bloom (Venusverse), page 18
He’s right. I've gotta calm down.
“Are you late for it?”
“No,” I mutter, shaking my head. “No, it’s not that, I just—”
“What appointment is it?”
I close my eyes, taking another deep breath. “My thirty-week scan.”
It’s absurd. These feelings of fear and panic roaring through me. I need to be an adult. This is no different from the other appointments. So why am I trembling? Why are those horrible emotions from the morning returning? The choking, tingling sensation. The echoes of violent touches and pain. Breathless terror, cold and—
“Everything is okay, Sam.” The way Theo’s voice deepens resonates through me. Almost like I’m in a trance, I look at him again. He pulls me away from those spiraling thoughts and toward the light. He’s smiling. Not pityingly like before, but kindly. “Memory problems are normal in the third trimester. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
I gulp and nod, slowly coming around to believing Theo instead of the voice in my head telling me I’m stupid and useless.
“Did you tell the office you need to leave for the appointment?”
“I…I don’t think so. I forgot, I think.”
What kind of parent am I? The baby isn’t even here yet, and I’m already screwing up.
“Alright.” Theo’s voice remains steadfast, controlled. That’s what he’s doing—taking control over the situation. Not having to do that for myself right now is exhilarating. He keeps talking while closing the plastic containers and placing them back in his backpack. “I get it. You’re stressed. It’s a lot. Would you…would you like me to come with you?”
I raise my brows in shock. “Come with me?” I mouth.
“You know, to the appointment. For-for moral support.” He tilts his head with a smile that tries to hide the insecure undertone of his voice. “I mean, this can’t be easy to do alone. If that’s…”
Going there always makes me feel inadequate.
I know the doctors don’t care. I know it’s normal for people to go to these appointments without their partner, and that I don’t need another person to do this, but seeing those affectionate couples in the waiting room, all giddy to share that experience together, sometimes leaves me feeling utterly empty and wrong. More times than not. I try to be strong for my child, but I can’t just push those emotions aside.
Definitely not today.
“Y-yeah.” I swallow the lump in my throat, hardly believing what I just said. “I’d like that.”
Even Theo’s face is painted with surprise. “Alright,” he says, recovering quickly. “How about I go tell your office manager that you need to leave while you wait in the car?”
Somewhere deep inside, a primitive part of me gets roused by the way he takes control in such a caring, assured way. An alpha protecting his omega. Doing what needs to be done.
Before I can be disturbed by how easily a ridiculous thought like that popped into my head—a thought that has to be nothing but raging pregnancy hormones—I hear Theo open the door to the balcony. He stands in the doorway, waiting for me to get myself together while gently gesturing for me to come.
I do, my heart still beating against my increasingly cramped rib cage. “What about you?” I ask as we head back, feeling a little dazed.
“My shift doesn’t start for another hour and a half. Don’t worry,” he says it like it’s great news, but…why did he come so early? Just to eat lunch with me?
Yeah. That’s exactly why.
Does a friend…really do something like that?
I don’t have the time or energy to bother myself about that again. Nor do I want to argue with the one person who’s capable of helping me not to crumble right now.
Somehow, I get to my car. Very slowly, considering my trembling legs, coupled with the increasingly heavier body and smaller lungs. I think that’s why Theo sent me ahead—because he knew that by the time I waddled here, he’d be done in the office and on his way down.
Taking deep, controlled breaths, I stare at the wheel under my hands, trying to make sense of everything happening.
My mind feels nearly as volatile as it did shortly after the assault. At certain points, it was like a warzone I couldn’t navigate. A place I could not make sense of. Thoughts and feelings and memories and shadows danced around me as I stood helplessly in the eye of that storm. No solace, not ever. Just chaos interspersed with terrifying moments of complete and utter numbness.
I jolt when Theo knocks on the passenger-side window. With my hand over my heart, I unlock the door.
“Sorry,” he says, drawing his brows together apologetically.
“It-it’s fine. I was zoning out.”
“Kyle said it’s okay. He understands.”
“Good,” I whisper.
Theo says nothing else as he opens the door and slides into the seat. With the radio volume too low to even make out what is playing, Theo and I are silent and still. There’s a strong sense of déjà vu, and judging by the way Theo twiddles with his scarred finger in my peripheral vision, I’m not the only one experiencing it.
It doesn’t take very long for him to start messing with the radio. When he settles on a station where a song he clearly knows is playing, he hums along to it, rocking slightly from side to side.
I’m reminded of his karaoke performance and feel the same wave of awe I did back then. Just by sharing his own gift, it was like he made a mockery of everyone else. Theo’s voice sounded surprisingly different when he sang. Still him, but in a completely new, otherworldly way. He’s not singing now, but it’s like the vibrations of his humming are working their way beneath my skin, into my bloodstream. It’s calming, and he doesn’t even mean it to be.
We’re almost at the hospital when I finally feel the panic fully leave me. I can breathe without that horrible sensation of something pushing me off the edge, but that clarity of mind only makes me think about how bizarre this is. Him being here with me, coming for the checkup.
What am I doing?
I keep asking myself that.
I ask myself that as we get out of the car.
I ask myself that when we walk through the winding halls of the obstetrics unit, and Theo follows a few steps after me like a puppy.
I ask myself that as we sit down in the waiting room, surrounded by various couples in different stages of pregnancy, and for the first time, I don’t feel that pathetic pang of jealousy.
Which is ridiculous—I should still be jealous. Theo isn’t my partner. We’re not like these people. He isn’t the father of my child, and he’s only here because I let my emotions get the better of me and wasn’t keeping up with my schedule like any responsible adult would.
The door opens, and my doctor pokes her head out. “Mr. Snyder,” she announces softly, as she always does. We’ve gotten here just in time.
I stand sharply and notice that Theo pauses behind me. He blinks at me with confusion, stuck in the middle of the motion between sitting and standing up. “Should I… Do you want me to stay out here, or—”
God, this is so awkward and weird.
I have no one else to blame for that but myself.
I can’t just let him sit out here, can I? What would that look like to the other people in the room? Who would bring someone with them only to make them wait outside?
“You can come in,” I say in a low voice, turning before he meets my eyes. I enter the office, kneading my hands together to distract myself. The doctor waits for me to settle in the chair like she always does, with the same professional, pleasant expression as ever, but when Theo comes into the room and closes the door, even she can’t hide her surprise.
“We have an audience today,” she notes lightly while clicking something on her computer.
Theo and I share a quick, uneasy look. He takes a seat on the chair beside me. The one that’s always empty.
“Yes,” I say plainly.
“Lovely. It’s nice to meet your…” Her eyes shift to Theo.
“I’m–I’m not the father or anything,” Theo blurts out, sounding all flustered. “Just a friend. I’m here for moral support,” he clarifies further, his voice getting higher and higher with each word. Why the hell is he nervous?!
The doctor barely suppresses a chuckle and nods, turning back to her computer with the corners of her mouth slightly raised. I stare down at my feet.
“So, how are we feeling, Sam?” she asks after a moment.
“Tired.”
She gives me a smile of understanding. “I don’t think that’s going to get any better, unfortunately. The third trimester is kicking in, but you’re almost to the finish line, and you’re doing great so far.” Every few words, she glances at Theo behind me, like she wants to make him feel like he’s still a part of the conversation.
“Any headaches? Any vision changes? Concerning swelling in your hands or feet?”
“My feet get a little swollen at the end of the day sometimes,” I admit, looking down at my ankles.
“That is quite normal.”
Just as the baby kicks me in the side, I remember. “The round ligament pain I complained about at the beginning of the pregnancy started up again. It’s not as sharp and intense anymore. More...dull now,” I say, touching the sides of my stomach. The doctor keeps nodding with interest. “If I walk too much, it feels like the muscles are going to tear with the weight of my womb.” And the baby still has ways to go…
“Have you been wearing the belly belt I recommended? It might be time to start using it to relieve the tension. We’ll take a look during the physical exam, too, to make sure it’s nothing else.”
I avert my eyes with a faint, shameful smirk. “I did buy it… It’s lying in the nursery. I’ll start to use it.”
“The baby’s only going to get bigger, so definitely do that to relieve as much discomfort as you can. Have you found that the growth comes in these smaller spurts? It’s usually a few days when you might feel the most uncomfortable until your uterus and your body somewhat adjust to the expansion. Then you get a couple of days that are more comfortable, and the same cycle repeats.”
“Ah. Yeah, that’s…exactly how it feels, actually.”
She looks pleased, and it’s like someone’s turned the volume down on my worries.
After typing what I’ve told her into the computer, the doctor calls in a nurse, and we go through some more of the typical tests. She checks my blood pressure and has me pee in a little container to check my urine for gestational diabetes and preeclampsia. Before the ultrasound, she measures the size of my uterus, placing the measuring tape from the top of my pubic bone to the top of my belly.
The entire time, Theo sits on his chair like he’s frozen. The only thing that’s moving is his eyes as they dart from me to the doctor. He’s hanging onto her every word, barely even noticing when I keep checking up on him.
“Everything is looking just about textbook,” she announces enthusiastically. “Now, let’s do the ultrasound, shall we?”
I nod and stand to get on the examination table. “You can…watch. I don’t need you to hold my hand,” I say quietly as I turn to Theo, because he looks like he’s willing to do exactly that.
“Okay.”
The doctor puts on her gloves and prepares the machine while I hesitantly lift my shirt and get ready for the cold sensation. Theo stands on my left, across from the doctor, holding onto the edge of the table.
It makes me feel unusually vulnerable having him see my bare bump. I don’t know why. And now he’s going to see my baby—the only other person to do so besides me and the doctor.
The heat that thought pulls toward my face quickly dissipates with the cool gel she squirts on my skin. Flashing her an affirmative smile, I move my attention to the machine’s screen, excited to see the little one again.
The doctor moves the probe around before the rhythmic lull of my baby’s heartbeat breaks the suspenseful silence. I smile widely, immediately set at ease all the way to my core.
“There they are,” she says. “And…oh! Would you look at that!” Before I have the time to panic about her finding some problem, the doctor turns to me and wheels the machine closer to the table. “We don’t catch this very often. Do you see? The baby is sucking their thumb. Here.”
After some adjusting on my stomach, she stills her hand and…I see it. The fuzzy, grainy image of the baby on the screen, curled up, with their thumb in their mouth.
That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life. Tears swell up behind my eyes, and I barely manage to hold them back.
“Oh my god. They do that?” Theo exclaims next to me. I almost forgot he’s here, and when I turn to him, my heart hiccups. He’s leaning over me slightly to see the monitor, lips spread wide and eyes shining with the purest, most genuine wonder.
“Oh, yes,” the doctor says, clearly pleased with his interest. “The baby's doing lots of things right now. Swallowing, making faces, even pedaling with their little feet, which Sam is surely aware of.”
I nod, putting my hand over my mouth as I try to get a hold of my emotions.
“Wow.”
“Their brain is developing at an incredibly fast rate at this point in time. The baby can track light, process information from their five senses, and... Oh, let me take a picture for you before they move! What a lovely memory to have,” the doctor mutters, quickly doing whatever she does on the machine to produce an image.
I’m still all gooey and teary-eyed by the time she’s done with the usual measurements. “Everything’s looking and measuring exactly as it should, Mr. Snyder. From what I can tell, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“Good,” I say with a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”
“Indeed. Before I wipe you down, have you changed your mind on knowing the gender, or are we still leaving it a surprise?”
Even the baby stirs inside me in response to the question. Catching my breath, I tighten my hold on the shirt I’m holding rolled up and dart my eyes across the screen. Without thinking, without understanding why, the next place I look is Theo. As if, subconsciously, I’m primed to go to him for advice.
He still seems so excited. His brows are raised, and his eyes buzz with energy like he’s on some drug. “Do you not want to know?” he asks, his voice low and understanding, with a hint of curiosity.
I blink and let out a trembling exhale. “I-I do,” I whisper.
“It’s not like it really matters, does it? As long as the baby’s healthy.”
The carefree way he says it touches something within me. He’s right. It doesn’t really matter. It changes nothing. Why did I worry it would? “You’re right,” I say, almost to myself, and finally meet the doctor’s gaze. “I’d…like to know the gender, if that’s okay.”
The doctor smiles, shifting the probe against my skin again. She moves for a few moments to find the right position. “To confirm the notes I’ve already made after one of your previous anatomy scans… Here, you can see quite clearly that you’re having a baby girl.”
If oxygen filled my lungs before, now it’s all helium, expanding rapidly and filling my chest with joy. A baby girl. I feel like I could float away with happiness, and also like I’ve never had deeper roots in this world, in this life.
My girl. I’ve never loved anything or anyone more. I’ve never understood the meaning of the word properly until now.
“Oh,” is all that comes out, because words don’t do it any justice.
“A girl,” Theo whispers, looking down at me. His eyes soften as he meets mine, and for a moment, I swear I see him tearing up just as I do.
I smell his pheromones. They wrap around me like a blanket; intense but comfortable. When I blink and look down, I notice that—somehow, some way—he’s holding my hand and…I just let it happen.
“Have you given any thoughts to names?” the doctor asks while wiping my stomach.
A girl. My little girl. It keeps sounding inside my head like a lullaby. “Not really,” I mumble, dazed.
“There’s no rush. You still have time, but things are going to start moving quickly. You can get down now. Let us discuss some vaccinations and your birth plan before you go.”
The rest of the appointment passes in a blur. I barely pay attention to what the doctor says. Questions about a hospital bag, birth plan, or baby’s positioning and when to start worrying about them—her—turning the right way for birth all get lost in the fluffy cloud of euphoric haze.
So many questions swirl inside my head once we leave the office.
Should I change the nursery? So far, I’ve bought mostly beige, yellow, and pale green toys and clothes. Not like she will care. Not that it matters at all.
Oh god, will I be able to bring up a girl by myself? Again, it wouldn’t be that different from a boy, but—
I shiver at the thought that comes into my mind next: Am I a bad person for being glad somewhere deep down that it isn’t a boy? For not having to fear that he’d grow up to look exactly like one of those men whose faces are burned into my mind?
“You haven’t thought about names at all? You must have some that you like, surely,” Theo says. Until now, he’s been walking next to me, staring at the ultrasound picture of the baby sucking her finger with an amazed grin, nearly bumping into walls and people.
I shake the doubts out of my head and try to focus on what Theo is saying.
“To be honest, I’ve been thinking of the baby as this almost genderless…concept. I know it sounds weird, but I think it hasn’t really hit me yet that they’ll…she’ll be out at some point. A little baby girl…” I clutch my stomach and feel a faint movement inside.
“It’s incredible. What you can do, I mean. Being able to create life. I’ve never realized how mind-blowingly complex it is. And how much the pregnant person endures. It’s unreal!”
We lock eyes for a fleeting moment. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much, but not in a bad way. In a ‘making my heart flutter and my face grow hot’ way.
“Anyway, I suppose I should start picking out names. I want something…” I go quiet, embarrassment flushing through my chest at the word I want to use.
