Chapter 43 - Difficult Choices [https://cdn.midjourney.com/b5f0acfb-911a-47c2-a2cf-c4ef04f86039/0_3.png]
Standing in front of Terry’s office, jingling the truck keys, Kennedy willed the single bar on her phone to be enough to pull up the doctor’s address on Maps. Dammit. Her office wasn’t far. There was enough time to go get her Mom and Nan before the appointment. The question was, did she want them to come with her? If she didn’t pick them up, the complaining later would be endless. Heading toward Terry’s truck, she grumbled under her breath, “They are staying in the waiting room.”
*
Kennedy turned into the drive and bounced along the rutted path. Terry’s place was still standing, so that was something. This morning, the air had a crackling feeling, like when rain was coming. To the east, beyond the trees, gray clouds gathered. They needed to get a move on before the weather hit. When she swung the front door open, Mr. Pibble shot past her.
With her Mom yelling instructions from the porch, she chased him around the yard. Enjoying the game, he leaped onto the trunk of a maple tree, tail swishing. “You little stinker.” Clucking her tongue, Kennedy lifted the cat free before he headed into higher branches. “You better not make me late, little man.” Tail curled around her arm, he purred, content to be in her arms now that she’d gotten her hands on him.
After she returned him to the cabin, safe and sound. Kennedy called for her Nana through the crack in the door. “Are you coming with us?” She hadn’t planned for the Pibble factor or the approaching rain. They needed to get in the car if they were going to be on time.
“Just a second. I’m putting my lipstick on.”
Her mother groaned. “That woman, I’ve been telling her all morning…”
“You’ve got thirty seconds, Nan, or you will be driving yourself into town.”
Looking like she was going to church, her Nan came around the corner putting her earrings in. Kennedy kept her foot close to the crack in the door, ready to deter Mr. Pibble in case he decided to play another game of chase.
“I don’t want to be late. She squeezed me into her schedule.”
“I’m coming.” She gathered her purse and a lightweight jacket. The woman was wearing pumps, for goodness’ sake.
“Do you always dress up when you go to the gyno?”
“Every time.” She sailed past her and headed to the truck, while Kennedy got the door shut and locked.
Once both women were down the steps and installed in the truck, Kennedy swung into the driver’s seat. Her mother had called in some ancient favors to get the appointment with the local lady doc, a bear-friendly one. Nan sat in the back with her purse on her lap. Her Mom had navigation up on her phone and was rereading a note from Terry out loud from the passenger side. “He wants us to join him for lunch. He uses a lot more words when he types.”
“It hurt him to talk for years, Mom. People made fun of him.”
Her Mom gave a curt nod. “There is a lot of judgment about people that only make it part way back. Usually, they die.”
“That’s awful.”
“Life in the hills can be terrifying. Why do you think I took you away from all this?” Holding her phone in her hand, she pointed toward the road. “You go south into town.”
“I guessed that part.”
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“No need to be smart.
Kennedy turned them toward the main road, happy to leave the dirt ruts as the first raindrops hit the windshield. “I’ve heard Terry speak a second language. That one is easier for him. It sounds kinda weird though, low and there are sounds I’m not used to.”
Looking up from her phone, her Mom asked, “Does it sound like growling? Our ancestors traveled thousands of miles to get away from that past, but it just won’t die.”
Kennedy didn’t want to unpack that comment on the drive, not while they were running late. She turned left. “Her office shouldn’t be hard to find. There are only three streets in town.”
*
The paper gown crinkled as Kennedy sat down, half-naked, on the edge of the examining table. Her robe hadn’t tied properly, so she felt like her ass was hanging out. Thanks to all the water she’d drunk this morning, she’d filled the pee sample cup the nurse had requested easily. Inside, the office was like the med stop close to her house, clean and simple. From the street, it looked like a residential home.
A compact woman with light brown skin and tight, curly hair followed the nurse in. She had a white jacket on. “Miss Kennedy Bliss?”
“Nice to meet you. Thank you for fitting me in.” When the doctor extended her hand, Kennedy accepted it. There was something awkward about shaking hands when your ass hanging out.
“I saw your mother in the waiting room. She and my aunt were close in school. She said you were staying with Doc Terry. He helped my folks out a bunch of times on their farm.” She flipped open Kennedy’s chart. “Is he one of the fathers?”
“Yes, Mam.”
“So you think you caught pregnant about a month ago? During your first heat?”
Kennedy nodded.
“Is this age right? You are twenty-four?” The Doc placed the paperwork down on the counter. “That’s unusual. Late.”
“The age is right. My mother had me taking an herbal mix every morning. I don’t know when she started that, but it was an accident when I went off it.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Most people in town take it their whole lives. It’s odd that you went into heat at all. Sometimes it comes in faint. If you were taking Red Ursa, there should have been no worry about bothersome shape changes. If your Mom is like mine, then she has taken it her whole life.”
“I’m adopted, if that matters.”
“Interesting. Do you know if your birth mother changed with you in utero?”
“She did. And, unfortunately, there were tragic consequences.” Her bare feet felt weird on the textured step, where her toes touched. “Going off the herbs wasn’t intentional. My Nan made an ordering mistake. She changed the mix and didn’t tell my Mom. I was off of them about two months before I changed.”
“And are you on them now?”
“No. I wasn’t sure if it would hurt me or the baby.”
The Doc considered. “The best choice for this situation depends on a few things. It’s hard to reverse a gap of that duration. Have you changed since you caught?”
“Once, while I was asleep.”
The doc looked surprised. “So early?”
“Yes, Mam.”
The nurse shook her head and wrote something down.
“Ms. Kennedy, you have some tough choices to make. If you go back on the suppression drug, it will most likely keep you in your skin, but it will stress the embryo. They may or may not survive the dose you will need. You have the choice to end the pregnancy and try again when you have been on the medication for a few months. The odds of a healthy to-term pregnancy would be much higher if you were on suppression medication for the duration. The challenge with that choice is that on suppression, you will not go into full, true heat, so it will be harder to conceive. Not impossible, but more difficult. We would have to work to find the exact right dosage.”
“I wasn’t trying to get pregnant this time.”
“Well, that may make your choices easier. If you decide to stay off the medication and continue this pregnancy, then you will need to be watched over. There are dangers in approaching reproduction naturally. Because you don’t have experience with regular turning, it will be less easy for you to control the state of the baby you carry. The bodies do not do well when the mother and child do not maintain a shape match. It is rare that it happens, but often deadly, when the mother and the baby in utero are wearing different shapes.”
The doc blew on her stethoscope, heating it. “I want you to take deep, even breaths.” The round metal surface felt cold through her paper gown as the doc continued, “Most commonly, the mismatch happens in the first trimester and results in a miscarriage. You cannot change casually. The level of control needed for that only comes with a second or third pregnancy for many. As you discovered, in your sleep, it is easier for the baby to instigate a change. Some choose to sleep in secure mother rooms. There they and the baby are safe should a nocturnal, baby-driven shift occur. Few homes in town have those these days. Some women choose to stay in their bear form because it is more resilient and safer for them for the duration of their pregnancy. Then if there is a miss-match in shape, it is always the infant who will fail to thrive.”
“I’m not doing that.”