Thanks, guys! I was so excited when he got pregnant. I didn't know if it would be possible given how limited he is in other ways, and how much rarer alien pregnancies have become, but if my pictures are correct it only took two abductions and Bam! Belly sparkles! It's certainly livened up the plot!
Chapter 5: Facing the TruthHelena came by to help work on the rocket, and suggested to him that perhaps it was something he'd eaten.
Mr. Gamboa cleared his throat and confessed that it couldn't be that. He didn't experience hunger, and had avoided consuming anything by mouth ever since a rather embarrassing incident with a glass of orange juice on one of his first days at Cypress Terrace.
He was still having trouble with serums at work, but his discomfort became so severe that he eventually gave in and tested one of his own vials of Snake Oil. Predictably, it failed to produce the desired effect.
Grim phoned several times, inviting Mr. Gamboa out for some athletic training, but Mr. Gamboa was loathe to admit that his belly was now twice the size of his capacious friend's, and said preferred to take his exercise at home alone.
Eventually, he could no longer deny the obvious. There was something in there, and it was going to come out very soon. He invited Helena over again to get her input.
“Yup. That's a baby,” she told him. “Are you taking pre-natals? My sister-in-law had two kids and she went on and on about her pre-natal vitamins. I could get you some . . .”
Mr. Gamboa's attention drifted. He briefly considered asking Helena to move in to help care for the coming child. She certainly seemed to know more about it than he did. He remembered her traits, however, and realized that the very things that had attracted him to her were likely to provide a poor example for one so young. He thanked her for her assistance, and ushered her out the door.
Single parenthood would be a challenge, he thought, but perhaps Reese could help with some of the night feedings. He mentally patted himself on the back for not yet selling off the furnishings in the child's bedroom upstairs. He hoped the baby would enjoy the color purple.
He did not have long to wait to find out, as he went into labor that very night.
He made his way to the hospital alone, and approached the front desk.
The receptionist's eyes filled with horror, then confusion, then shock. Mr. Gamboa found himself momentarily at a loss for words to explain his situation. The receptionist recovered enough to point down the hall in the direction of the labor and delivery ward, and Mr. Gamboa nodded gratefully, then politely declined the offer of a hospital gown, and proceeded in the direction she had indicated.
The contraption used by the hospital for extracting infants was reassuringly scientific and did much to preserve the patient's modesty. Mr. Gamboa was grateful, at least, for this. A few squirts of lubricant and flashes of the laser later he heard the doctor exclaim, “It's a girl!”
“Does she . . . ahem . . . does she have a head?” Mr. Gamboa stammered anxiously.
“What?” asked the doctor. “Of course she does. Why on earth-?”
“Oh, thank goodness,” sighed Mr. Gamboa. “She takes after her mother.”
Much relieved, he extracted himself from the birthing apparatus and approached the bassinet to take his daughter in his arms for the first time.
“May I have a name for the birth certificate?” asked the doctor.
“Yes,” said Mr. Gamboa proudly. He had been searching Simpedia earlier in the day and was prepared for this question. “Her name is Macaria. Macaria Gamboa.”
“Very nice,” said the doctor. “Now would you like me to send in the lactation consultant? I assume you'll be breastfeeding.”
Mr. Gamboa was not prepared for that question.
