Her Christmas Baby Bump

by Robin Gianna

  “Just had a cup. I’ll stay here and bother you instead.”

  “Or you could man the desk while I file these and go grab a quick nap,” she said, picking up the stack of patient folders on the desk.

  “Right. Whirling tornados don’t nap, which is why the staff gets out of your way when you barrel through. You—” He stopped mid-word when he saw the folder at the top of Sue’s stack. A folder with the name Hope Sanders on it.

  “What is that file?” he asked, tapping it with his finger. “She’s single. A midwife here.”

  “I know.” Sue glanced at him, then quickly stacked some more files on top of the pile. “She’s the woman you were dancing with in the newspaper photo. The one you denied you had any interest in.”

  Yeah, and he was still going to. And didn’t have any interest, really, because she didn’t and it was over. “I don’t. I’m just confused why there would be a file for her here unless she’s a patient.”

  “Well, you’re a doctor in this office. You want to look at the file, you have the right to, but I’m staying out of it.”

  The frown between her brows, the way she was warily looking at him like the bearer of bad news, sent alarm bells clanging in his brain. Which was stupid, since he didn’t have a relationship with Hope Sanders. But as he was trying to convince himself of that, he dug through the stack for it, slid it out and flipped it open.

  There was the usual column with the dates patients were in the office, then the next column listing the doctor they’d seen. Two appointments with Tom Devor were noted. The most recent being today. Along with Tom’s summary notes on her visit, and the scheduled hormone injections to begin next week, preparing her for IVF.

  He blinked, feeling as if the room were tilting a little, then somehow refocused on the page. The scrawled notes practically jumped off the page, loud and clear and unbelievable.

  Hope was going to have IVF. The woman he’d kissed and touched and made unforgettable love with just days ago wanted to get pregnant and have a baby from some anonymous sperm donor who wouldn’t have one damned thing to do with his child’s life. The kid would forever wonder who he was and where he came from and why.

  At first utterly numb, his whole body started to feel as if a million little needles were jabbing it, from his feet to the prickle of his scalp, and it got a little hard to breathe. His gaze moved from the file in his hand to Sue. To see the twist of her lips and concern in her eyes that told him she knew all about it, and also knew his claims to not be interested in the woman had been a damned lie.

  “Maybe you should sit down for a minute,” Sue said, her frown deepening as she stood. “Use this chair.”

  “I’m fine.” And he damned well would be, as soon as he told Hope exactly what he thought about a single woman becoming a parent through IVF, risking multiple births and the potential terrible consequences of that. Yeah, he knew it was none of his business. He wasn’t her doctor and he wasn’t her boyfriend, and now he saw loud and clear why she’d insisted they couldn’t go out again.

  Because she’d likely be pregnant very soon.

  How was it possible that a beautiful woman like Hope Sanders wanted to have a baby, or multiple babies, all alone? Surely, there was a line of men who’d love nothing more than to have a permanent relationship with her and have a family.

  He sucked in a shaky breath, trying to wrap his brain around the whole thing as he seriously pondered heading to her house the second he was off work to talk to her about it.

  Sticking his nose in her business probably wouldn’t be welcomed, because he was sure she believed she’d carefully thought about it all before deciding on this path. Nearly everyone always did. But he had personal experience with the subject, personal knowledge of how negatively the challenges could affect both her and her children. Challenges that sometimes brought terrible consequences and lifelong pain.

  Your mother has given up her parental rights, Aaron. And you know, of course, that we don’t know who your father is. I understand all this might make you feel sad, but it’s for the best. It means you can find a permanent family to live with, just like your brother and sister have. It’s going to be okay.

  His fingers tightened on the folder until they were white. Didn’t he have an obligation to warn Hope that there was no way she was fully aware of what she and her babies could be facing? Wasn’t that why he’d decided to become a fertility specialist to begin with, so he could make sure patients wanting a family truly knew all the pros and cons of IVF? Especially when the doctor performing the procedure was perfectly okay with implanting more than two eggs?

  He hated that his hand was shaking as he carefully set Hope’s file with the others. “I’ll be in my office when my patient arrives.”

  “I’m sorry this is upsetting to you, Aaron,” Sue said, reaching to touch his forearm.

  “It’s not upsetting. Just surprising. I barely know the woman.” Which was obviously true, since he never would have dreamed she had anything like this in mind.

  He dropped into his desk chair, wishing he still had paperwork left to do. Hoped like hell his patients came early. Focusing on them would be the distraction he needed to shove down the shock and disbelief he knew he shouldn’t be feeling so intensely. Probably talking to Hope about it would be wrong. Probably by the end of the day his intense desire to run to her house that minute would fade away, and he’d be feeling more normal.

  Which unfortunately didn’t happen. By the end of the work day his shock had faded, but his need to talk to her about it hadn’t. He tried to convince himself that the only interest he had in Hope’s decision was professional but knew that was a lie.

  He’d wondered why she’d been so adamant about them not going out more than once or twice. Now that he knew the reason, he should be glad it didn’t have anything to do with him. Shrug, and let it go. But the truth was, the thought of her getting pregnant through IVF without any support, without a man in her life, without a father for her children, twisted him up in knots.

  But as he’d reminded himself ten times in the past few hours, her life was none of his business. He couldn’t let it be, and forcefully stuffed down his consuming urge to show up at her door to talk to her, which would be completely inappropriate.

  If she ended up coming to the Christmas adoption party to help, he’d be friendly but distant. After that, he’d rarely run into her, unless he was unlucky enough to be in the office the same time she saw Tom Devor. It would be easy to not notice the blue of her eyes. Not notice that gorgeous hair cascading down her back or tamed into a ponytail. Not notice her appealing body in the hallway at the hospital, a body that would change as it carried multiple babies. To not take a second look at her in the cafeteria, smiling and laughing with coworkers, or be aware of her absence when she was on maternity leave.

  He grabbed up his briefcase and headed out of the door, deciding the longest run he’d ever taken might be the cure to this jittery, unsettled feeling that wouldn’t leave his gut.

  Hope Sanders had her life and the decisions she’d made for it, and he had his, which would never include a family. It would be easy to forget all about her.

  It would.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT WAS SCHEDULED. It was going to happen.

  The thought fluttered around Hope’s head and heart, taking center stage every time there was a lull at work. Nervousness warred with the excitement in her belly every time she thought of her meeting with Dr. Devor, wondering how the hormones would feel, how they might affect her, what it would be like to have her eggs retrieved once they were ready. Thinking about the fertilization, and how long the week or two would drag on as the cells grew. Thinking about having them implanted into her uterus.

  Thinking about really and truly becoming pregnant.

  “Congratulations. What a beauty,” she said to the awestruck
new parents of the baby she’d just helped bring into the world as she placed it, warm and swaddled, into its mother’s arms. She hoped her smile showed only her sincerity and didn’t at all reveal how antsy she felt about her own life now that she had a moment to think about it all again. “I’ll leave the three of you alone for a bit, then I’ll be back.”

  She left the labor and delivery room, wiping her suddenly sweaty hands against her scrubs, wanting to give the thrilled couple some privacy to enjoy their incredibly special first moment with their newborn baby. Maybe a nice, hot cup of tea would calm the restlessness she felt that was more than uncomfortable.

  Almost every woman pregnant, or expecting to become pregnant, for the first time felt as she did, didn’t they? Elated at the thought of becoming a mother, but a little worried about the rest of it? Wondering about how her body would change, about how the delivery would go, about whether she’d have an infant that slept through the night in just weeks, or one that had colic and cried all the time, even one who might have some developmental difficulty?

  Regardless, it didn’t matter. The baby or babies she’d be blessed to mother would be all hers, for better or worse, easy or difficult or anywhere in between. She was absolutely sure she could handle whatever came her way, and the thought helped her relax. As did picturing her mum as a very happy grandma, coddling the little ones they’d been blessed with.

  The vision brought a smile and she drew a deep breath, shaking her head at herself. Her mother might have had Hope far before she was ready, but she did love children. That kind of love had nothing to do with sensual love, the love between a man and woman. Hope might not have grown up seeing that, or personally experienced it, but knew they were totally separate things, and shoved down the fears and doubts that kept surfacing.

  It would be fine. It would be wonderful, and the days until she saw Dr. Devor again to begin the process were going to seem very long indeed.

  A distraction was in order, and the best distraction she could think of was checking on the babies she’d delivered that week, and their mothers. All were doing well, and she enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing thriving babies and happy families.

  She made her way to the room where Mrs. Smith was recovering from her emergency C-section, pleased to see that her baby was there with her, too. The woman looked tired, and no wonder, considering everything she’d been through, but her smile was happy. “You look like you’re getting along pretty well, Mrs. Smith! And so is baby. What did you name him?”

  “Patrick. After his grandfather. Dr. Cartwright told my Ted that our Patrick was such a ‘bruiser’ he was sure to play rugby someday. Since his granddad played rugby, we decided it was perfect. Except now, his granddad is proudly calling him ‘Bruiser’ instead, so I’m afraid it just might stick.”

  “Patrick is a lovely name, but Bruiser is unique, that’s for sure.” Hope had to chuckle, and for a moment she saw not the mother and baby, but Aaron. His eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke to Mr. Smith, coining that name for the big baby who’d been very difficult to deliver. Aaron had been incredibly calm and efficient during the crisis delivery, especially considering he hadn’t done it for a long time. And never alone, which she was surprised he’d admitted, and which showed his utter confidence in himself. The whole thing was amazing, really, and she wondered if the parents had any idea how lucky they’d all been that Aaron had been in the right place at the right time.

  “Thank you for helping me and Patrick, Hope.” Mrs. Smith reached to squeeze her hand. “I was terrified, so scared for the baby and for myself, too, I admit it. Dr. Cartwright told me the reason he’s all right is because you knew right away what the problem was and got immediate help. We owe you a lot for that.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. I’m so lucky my job gives me a chance to help mums and babies. And we’re all lucky Dr. Cartwright was there to take charge and get Patrick delivered fast—he did an amazing job with a difficult situation. It’s too bad you had to have a C-section, but I know having a healthy baby is well worth the pain you’re going through recovering from it.” Something she very well might have to experience, too, if more than one baby implanted from the IVF.

  “More than worth it.” She looked down at Patrick and smiled. “I understand that the kind of C-section I had to have means any more babies would have to be delivered the same way, but I’m okay with that as well. Babies are worth anything we have to go through, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Smith. I do.” And she was about to go through quite a bit for hers, knowing her upcoming pregnancy would be her only pregnancy. She reached to stroke Patrick’s downy head, getting another lump in her throat as she pictured holding her own in her arms in the not too distant future.

  A quick knock came just before the sound of a familiar voice. “How are you and Bruiser doing today, Mrs. Smith?”

  Hope stiffened and turned, knowing without a doubt who’d come in. Willing herself to act and feel normal, and not at all breathless and starry-eyed as she always seemed to be whenever he was near.

  Aaron stopped dead in his tracks as their eyes met, his brows lowering in a deep frown. There was something about his expression that sent her heart pounding, and not in a good way. Something about the way his lips had thinned, the way his eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at her. Something about his stiff posture combined with all the rest of it seemed to be sending serious anger vibes directly at her, and her throat suddenly felt a little dry.

  What had she done that had obviously disturbed him? Could he...? Surely he hadn’t found out about her IVF plans? It must be something else. Something she couldn’t think of at that moment. Or maybe she was completely imagining it.

  Except the anxious quivers inside her gut didn’t think she was imagining it at all.

  “Ms. Sanders,” he said in a voice that was tight and cool and unlike anything she’d heard from him before. “Nice to see you checking on our patients. If you have a minute, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about after I’ve visited with the Smiths.”

  She nearly said, Sorry, I can’t, because the alarm in her brain was ringing loud and clear that whatever he wanted to talk about wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation. But avoiding it wouldn’t be very mature or professional, and if it was something to do with her work she needed to know. Besides, she was a grown woman who could deal with anything thrown at her. “All right. I’ll meet you in the hallway.”

  She turned to Mrs. Smith and forced a smile. “I’ll come back tomorrow to see how you’re doing, and with any luck you can take Patrick home soon.”

  Hope barely heard Mrs. Smith’s response as she walked past Aaron to the door. He didn’t even look at her as she did, moving to the side of the bed to talk to their patient, as though Hope were suddenly invisible.

  What in the world? Out in the hallway, she sucked in a breath as the cowardly part of her urged her to leave, pointing out that if what Aaron wanted to talk about was important he’d find her later. But the perplexed and unnerved part of her wanted to know what was going on with him and get it over with.

  She stood immobile for what was probably only minutes but seemed like an eternity, when the door finally swung open and Aaron was there. With the same confusing and disturbing expression on his face.

  “Is there somewhere on this floor we can talk privately?”

  Privately. Because of patient confidentiality, or because he was going to let loose on her for something? “There’s a meeting room down this hall,” she said, moving toward it, proud that her voice sounded pretty normal.

  He followed, silent, closing the meeting room door behind them. Last thing she wanted to do was sit at the table for some long chat, so she stopped just a few steps into the room. Curls of foreboding rolled in her stomach as she faced him. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Standing maybe three feet from her, he s
tared at her, folding his arms across his wide chest. The lights in the room were fluorescent, unforgiving, and seemed to emphasize the tension in his face, the harsh planes of it. “Yesterday, I was at the front desk at my office. Imagine my surprise when I saw a file there with your name on it.”

  So he did know. That was what this was about. She wiped her sweaty hands down her scrubs, fiercely reminding herself it didn’t matter. He’d have learned about it sooner or later, and she didn’t owe him a thing anyway. She tipped up her chin and waited.

  “Why the hell are you going to do IVF? With Tom Devor, who doesn’t worry about the possible ramifications of multiple births? Don’t you realize the serious problems you could be bringing to both yourself and your children?”

  “First, I’ve thought this through very carefully and am well aware of all the pluses and potential minuses. Second, I don’t see how this is any of your business. Our relationship was brief, and now it’s over.”

  “And now I know why.” His eyes flashed at her. “What I don’t know is why you’re doing this. It may not be any of my business, but, since it’s what I do for a living, I’m making it my business. You have plenty of time to find someone who would be a real father to your children and conceive naturally.”

  “Sorry, my reasons are not your concern, no matter what you do for a living.” She didn’t have to explain her mother’s infertility from endometriosis when she was only in her twenties. Didn’t have to tell him about her own early stages of the disease that would likely make conceiving harder as she got older. Didn’t have to share her private inadequacies as a woman.

  “Hope.” He closed the gap between them to grasp her arms. “Believe me when I say I’ve been down this road too often, seeing single mothers without support who end up with twins or triplets or even more and can’t handle it. They suffer and their babies suffer. Not to mention that many children who never had a father always, always wonder who he was. Always feel an emptiness, a deep longing to know where they came from and who they really are. Is that what you want for your children?”