Page 74 of Whoops-A-Mate From Outer Space
“I remember.”
I licked my lips. “If… if it’s ok with you. I would like you to choose a name that honors Naqoi. Not his exact name, I think that would be too hard on you, but something that symbolizes the impact he’s had on our lives.”
“But he has not impacted your life.”
I shook my head. “He has, though. Veeshen said you came here as a way to find purpose after your loss. Tolai and Naduq wouldn’t exist without him. I love your family as my own, but I would have never met them or you if you’d remained on Lyll. The impact may not always be happy, but it’s there.”
He sniffled. “You would do this for me?”
I ran my hand along his cheek and jaw. “For us. But only if you want it. I wanted you to know that it’s an option.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, burying his face against my shoulder.
I held him for several minutes—until his emotions seemed to settle—then I turned and kissed his hair. “Come on. Let’s go down before the spaghetti gets cold.”
He nodded again and sniffled. “Ok.”
It might have been an unconventional suggestion, but as we headed downstairs, I knew it was the right one.
∞∞∞
Eashai and I sat next to each other in his obstetrician’s office, hands joined on the armrest of his chair. The slight tremble in my mate’s fingers and his pale knuckles told me just how nervous he was, even if he didn’t want to voice his fears.
We’d been informed some weeks prior that our baby was breech. Several attempts to turn him had been made, but he’d stubbornly stayed in position.
Now, with the due date quickly approaching, it was our last chance to see if we had time to get our son into position, and Eashai had been beside himself with worry.
The doctor knocked, gave a polite few seconds, then strode in. “Good morning, Eashai and Gene.”
“Good morning, Escaluu,” I replied to the peach-skinned man.
Eashai nodded in greeting.
“How are we feeling today?” the doctor asked. “Anything I need to know about?”
Eashai shook his head. “No. I am merely hoping that he has turned.”
Escaluu looked at one of their tablet things, then he let out a long sigh.
The way Eashai’s fingers tightened on the armrest told me he knew what the doctor was going to say.
He set aside the tablet, which rolled up into its pen-shaped form. “Unfortunately, your baby is still breech.”
“Th-there is still time for him to turn, right?” Eashai asked, nerves tinging his voice.
He shook his head. “Unfortunately not. Your test from this morning shows that you will go into labor within the next day or two. I am going to call down for an immediate surgical birth.”
“Surgical?” my mate squeaked.
He nodded. “You are too close, and even if he starts to turn, he will probably not be head down by the time labor starts. Surgical birth now is the safest for both of you.”
I squeezed Eashai’s hand. “I’m here. Everything will be fine.”
“But…” He turned to me with wide eyes. “I… I do not…” He shook his head, and I recognized panic on my normally calm mate’s face. “No surgery.”
I reached up and set a hand along his cheek, then I leaned in and touched my forehead to his. “Hey,” I murmured. “Talk to me. Why are you scared?”
“I do not know,” he admitted softly, calming under my touch. “The thought of surgery has always scared me.”
