Page 59 of Breeding Clinic

“We should get some baby books and read to them,” Matthew suggests.

“Good idea,” Gabriel says. “And music. I read it’s good for their brain.”

She takes a lot of photos of the baby’s face and head. The baby stops sucking their thumb and yawns. My heart melts and my eyes get damp. Liam wipes ultrasound gel off his palm with a tissue and takes my hand, squeezing it.

We did it. That’s our baby, right there. Healthy and happy.

“Do you want to learn the sex?” the tech asks.

Do we? I glance at my pack. We haven’t discussed it yet. “Is that okay?”

Liam glances at the others, who all nod. “Yes.”

The tech smiles and sets the ultrasound probe in its hook. “I’m all done. I’ll go get the doctor to go over everything.”

The ten minutes it takes the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor to come feels like a lifetime. He spends a few minutes reviewing the photos and measurements the tech took. “Everything looks good. You’re developing on track. You have an anterior placenta that’s nice and high. Baby looks nice and active. I just want to listen to their heart real quick.”

He adjusts the ultrasound machine and has me lie on my back while he gets the probe where he wants it. A rapid whooshing fills the exam room as he studies the baby’s heart. “That’s a nice, fast heartbeat. Your blood work will take about a week to run. We’ll call you with the results and make a follow-up appointment if you need one, but from what I can see noweverything looks good. Lisa said you want to know the baby’s sex?”

“Yes,” I answer for us all.

The doctor moves the probe again, pulling back so we can see our curled-up baby. “It’s a girl.”

“A girl…” I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. We’re having a daughter. After all these years, all of the heartache and failed cycles and loss, I’m going to have a little girl. My eyes grow hot and my vision blurs with unshed tears.

And it’s all thanks to a paperwork mix-up. I’ve never been so grateful for a clerical error in my life. Because it brought me here, to this moment. To this pack who accepts me as I am. Who’s as happy to go out to eat as they are to watch reruns on the couch. To the beta who tries new cookie recipes with me. And the beta who makes me work off those cookies and get stronger. To the alpha who finally put a baby in me.

Liam squeezes my hand and brings it to his face, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. His eyes are bright and shiny, too. “A girl,” he says with wonder. “We made a little girl.”

“Have you chosen where you want to give birth yet?” the doctor asks. When we say no, he pulls brochures from an organizer on the wall and hands them to Gabriel. “Most hospitals do tours once or twice a month for prospective parents. Birthing facilities do them more often, but they don’t take as many patients and their slots fill up fast. I’d pick your facility out sooner rather than later.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Gabriel says, looking through them.

The doctor leaves, and Matthew brings me the tissue box so I can clean my belly and fix my clothes. It’s real. This is really happening. Part of me didn’t want to get my hopes up. Get too excited. Was convinced this was a dream I’d wake up from. Told myself that I was getting too attached to them, whichwould only lead to being disappointed again like I have so many times before. What pack wants another pack’s leftovers?

But the point of viability is only a month away. It’s time for us to pick a birthing center. Everything suddenly just got very real. We’re having a baby, and I don’t have a proper nest. My house is too small. They live above a bar.

We’re not ready.

My bliss turns to quiet anxiety. I follow them out to the lobby in a bit of a daze. My mind churns over an increasingly long list of things to do in the next twenty weeks.

“I’ve heard this one sucks,” Gabriel says, weeding through the brochures. “No, absolutely not. This one’s too far from a hospital with a NICU.” He pulls three from the stack and tosses them into a trash can.

“I’ll call and get us on their lists for a tour,” Matthew says. He takes the rest of the brochures from Gabriel to look them over while we head out to our cars.

Liam squeezes me against him. “Is everything okay?”

“Hmm?” I say. His question pulls me from my distracted thoughts. “Yes. My brain’s spinning with planning. There’s a lot to get ready for.”

Liam pulls me against him and rubs his hand up and down my back. He kisses my forehead. “We’re here for you. For anything you or the baby needs. Are you coming over? Please say yes.”

“Later,” I tell him, distracted. “There’s an errand I need to run first, then I should go spend time with Waffles. I’ll come over for dinner?”

He sniffs the top of my head deeply and squeezes me. “It’s getting harder and harder to watch you walk away from us. My instincts hate it. Don’t be gone too long. I don’t think I can stand it.”

I sense it too. The urge to stay buried in a soft, cozy nest oftheir familiar scents. To swaddle myself in a mountain of blankets and pillows that smell like them. Their bed isn’t big enough for a growing pack. Neither is mine. We need a bigger place, and fast. This baby is going to come before we know it.

“Did you mean it?” I ask, needing to hear if what he said once in passing was true. Or if it was only something he said in the moment. “When you said you’d want to have more kids.”

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