"I'm huge."
"You popped."
"Aw, you look adorable."
Sleep-deprived from an entire night at the hospital, Derek and April look away from the scribbled whiteboard and towards me.
The former approaches and leans in for a kiss.
"Yeah, no. You have to brush your teeth if you want any kisses from me." I pat his scrub-clad chest. "That goes for you, too, April."
"Right." And with an extra red tinge blushed over her cheeks, she runs to the attending lounge.
My hand cups under his jaw. "I've got a skills lab with Ca-bitch. Well, technically it's with some Nussbaum guy, but she's making us do it."
"Play nice, Lev."
"Is that before or after she fires me for being pregnant?"
"She can't fire you."
"She can if she wants to."
"Feeling alright?" He brushes a palm over my stomach. "Nauseous? Fatigued? Sore at all?"
"I'll feel better once she's out of my hospital." A growl forms under my breath.
Derek heaves a heavy sigh, shaking his head ever so slightly. I peck the corner of his lips — pausing to gag at his morning breath in a teasing manner — and part ways to the lab room.
"Good morning, everybody." Dr. Nussbaum cheerily greets us. "Now I just have one question before we begin: are you ready to rock some hernias?"
Dr. Bailey woots in exaggerated excitement.
"That's what I'm talking about!"
"This is gonna be a long skills lab."
After a somewhat lengthy film of the varner technique, the group of attendings are pinned against each other for bragging rights and hospital gift shop hoodie.
"Excellent work, Dr. Phoenix." The instructor peers over at the model with an impressed nod. "Only nineteen more to go."
I flash an endearing grin. "Thank you, Dr. Nussbaum."
"You're gonna choke, Phoenix. You'll choke and die, and I will sing and dance." Dr. Bailey leans over to provoke me.
And then. . .a flutter occurs in the pit of my stomach.
"Check!" She yells out aggressively with a raised hand.
This time around, he's not as impressed. "Okay. Alright. That's the right idea. But, um —"
"But what?"
"Well —"
"Don't beat around the bush. Tell me what you don't like 'cause it looks perfect to me."
His left extends in my direction, causing the elder attending to fume. "Take a look at what Dr. Phoenix is doing over here. You see how she doesn't rush, cuts the mesh just right? See, now when done properly, the mesh will fit perfectly and not require extra sutures to hold it, thereby reducing the risk of future complications." He clasps his hands together. "So, do this over, pay attention to the details, and take your time."
The moment he touches her shoulder, Bailey forces a smile and a nod and resorts to a glare the moment he's gone.
"I could give you some pointers, if you'd like." My shoulders shrug.
"That bun in the oven may give you job security, Leven Phoenix, but it does not make you immune from a smack in the mouth." She snips her sutures rather loudly.
The feeling returns, furthering from a flutter into tapping. My hands refuse to move when I sense my concentration drifting from me.
"Phoenix, are you okay?"
"Um, yeah. I'm just gonna, uh, step out."
Leaving my station, I stride out of the room through the doorway. With each step, my breath grows weaker, and black dots cloud my vision.
"Leven! Leven, get back here!"
I press my hands over my growing abdomen and finally stop, allowing Bailey to catch up to me.
"Wh-What happened? Are you okay?"
"The second I get comfortable with this pregnancy — the moment I let myself enjoy having a baby — it's coming back to bite me in the ass."
Involuntary tears I couldn't seem to get rid of prick my eyes.
"Leven, stop for a minute." She raises her hands. "What is going on?"
"There's a flutter and some tapping and-and — Dr. Bailey, I can't lose this baby." I glance up at the ceiling to assure no tears fall in front of my mentor.
She removes a glove from her left hand and presses it taut against my stomach. Almost instinctively, the taps resume.
Her gaze softens. "Oh, sweetie. This isn't a bad thing."
"What else could it be?" My voice quivers.
"Oh, no, it's good. It's so good." She assures quietly. "Your baby is kicking."
". . .and that's a good thing? I-I mean, isn't it early? I'm only four months, and —"
"Your baby wants you to know that they are here with you."
And the tears flow.
After some more comforting, I search for Cristina in the hospital while Bailey goes back to the skills lab.
"Guess what."
"What?"
"The baby kicked. It still is and won't stop, actually." A proud smile forms over my face. "And apparently it's a good thing."
"Maybe I should kick my mopey intern."
". . .I don't think that's how it works."
"It can."
Unlike the day before, Derek comes home. Except his mood isn't the best when all of his and April's hard work of making small cuts throughout the departments to save the E.R. was put to waste. Cahill told them a buyer is the only solution to saving the hospital.
"Chicken parm, caesar salad, and New York cheesecake — not from the state."
Derek sits on a barstool at the kitchen island, face sulked in disappointment. I plate some food for him before propping myself next to him.
"Five bucks says I can cheer you up right now."
". . .you're on."
I take one of his hands and place it over my bump. Instantly, the fetus shifts inside to push their foot against it.
"Did our baby just. . .was that a kick?"
"Pretty cool, huh?"
His mood brightens, and he moves his hand across my abdomen more to play with our kid. I lean against the arm rests and watch them interact.
"Did you really make a profit over our child?"
"Yes. Yes, I did."
"Best five dollars I ever lost."