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Molly could tell the time away had really helped, she realized the day after they had returned from their trip. He seemed to be more at peace with things, more rested. More ready to live his life again. They had spent surprisingly little of their trip in the bedroom of their hotel room, instead trying to sample as much of Greece as they possibly could. He had seemed quite eager to actually enjoy himself, and she had very much enjoyed seeing him do just that.
The baby had started kicking for the first time while they were on vacation. She knew Sherlock had spent many evenings after the first time with his hand on her abdomen, waiting for a kick. The more she moved the better she felt. She worried, but she supposed every expectant mother did. The sooner she had the sonogram and got the reassurance that everything really was okay the better. She knew both she and Sherlock were going to be nervous until her appointment today. But that was in the afternoon. Right now she was letting him sleep in. She had gotten up and went into the kitchen, beginning to prepare breakfast. Her plan was to wake him up with breakfast in bed, but her kitten kept getting underfoot as she moved around the kitchen. Finally she bent down and picked up the little ball of fluff. “Can you please not get under foot long enough for me to surprise him?” she asked. She doubted the kitten could understand what she was saying but she hoped it understood her tone. It meowed at her and then began to purr, and after a moment she cradled her in her arms and began petting her. “I know. You missed me very much.”
“Probably just you,” she heard Sherlock say sleepily as he came out towards the kitchen.
“You were supposed to stay asleep!” she said, shaking her head.
“I generally wake up five minutes after you leave the bed,” he said, making his way over to her and kissing the top of her head. “But if you want I can go back to bed and pretend to be asleep.”
“No, it's all right,” she said with a sigh, continuing to pet the kitten. “I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed, that's all.”
“Well, next time you get up early I'll just stay in bed for a time and see if you come back with breakfast,” he said with a grin. He lifted his hand up and after hesitating for a moment he scratched the kitten behind her ears. “She's not trying to claw her way out of your arms and she's not hissing. I think I'm making progress.”
“You two will take to each other soon enough,” Molly said with a smile.
“Have you come up with a name yet?” he asked.
“I was thinking Athena, because cats are supposed to be wise and Athena was the goddess of wisdom. Or Artemis, because she was a hunter and cats are supposed to be good hunters.” She looked over at him. “Which one do you think is better?”
Sherlock thought for a moment. “Athena, I think. When our child is born it will probably be easier for her to say whenever it is she starts talking.”
“I hadn't even thought of that,” Molly said.
“Though she might start with some variation of cat or kitty before she realizes it has a name,” he said.
Molly looked over at him, smiling. “Do you want a girl, Sherlock?”
“I think I would prefer a girl,” he said with a nod. “Not that I wouldn't mind having the Holmes name continue, but I don't think I'd be the best father to a son. I worry with a son there would be too much pressure. With a daughter there wouldn't be as much.”
“What type of pressure?” she asked as she tilted her head slightly.
He was quiet for a moment. “There are expectations, when you have a son. I don't know if I could live up to the expectations there would be as his father, and I don't know if I would be able to not pass on my worst traits to him. I think I could be more relaxed if we had a daughter because there wouldn't be this need to pass on a legacy. She could be her own person and have her own life and not need to worry about all the things a boy would have to worry about.”
“Did you feel that way growing up?” she asked.
“No, but Mycroft did. He is the eldest son. And since he has no intention of marrying or having children everything that would be expected of his son would be expected of mine. I know he wouldn't do it on purpose but there would be a lot of pressure from Mycroft about things, about all the proper things a first born son needs to do. I think it would ruin the improved relationship we've had since I got back the first time.”
She nodded. “Well, I hope we have a girl, too. My Mum had wanted a granddaughter to spoil, but she died before I was even thinking about children and marriage and all of that.”
“I'm surprised you agreed to name our daughter after Lydia,” he said. “I mean, I thought you would want to remember your mother, to honor her in some way.”
“If I hadn't been for Lydia I would be raising this child on my own,” she said quietly. “She deserves to be honored more. And besides, I have things of my mother's that I would pass down to our daughter when she's old enough to appreciate them. I can honor her by giving them to our daughter if we have a girl.”
“We find out today, correct?” he asked.
“Yes. The appointment is at one.” Then she smiled at him. “My doctor had wondered if she'd ever get to meet you before I gave birth. Now she'll get her chance.”
“Well, it could have taken much longer, but I’m glad it didn’t. I had just hoped I would have been more involved from when you found out.”
“I know you wanted to and you couldn’t, but you’re here now. That’s the important part.” She handed the newly christened kitten to Sherlock. “Take Athena out of here so I can cook us breakfast. I kept tripping over her.”
“All right,” he said with a chuckle before bringing up the kitten to look at it. “I think we’re being banished. Let’s see if we can continue to get along, shall we?”
Her smile widened as she watched them leave the kitchen. She cooked their breakfast and they ate it quickly. She found she was nervous for the appointment. She really hoped they were having a girl because that was what both of them wanted the most. Soon it was time to get ready and they got dressed and left their home, heading to her doctor’s office near St. Bart’s. They made their way inside and soon they were shown to an exam room. “I’m actually a little nervous,” Molly said, reaching over for his hand once she was situated on the exam table.
He gripped her hand. “I’m not. While I would prefer a girl I’ll be just as happy with a boy, I think, expectations be damned.”
“But what if she’s not healthy? What if there’s a problem?”
“She’ll be fine,” he said. “There won’t be anything to worry about.”
“I hope so,” she said quietly as her doctor came in. Molly turned to her. “Hello, Barbara.”
“Hello, Molly,” the woman said with a warm smile. Then she turned to Sherlock. “You must be Sherlock Holmes. I’m Dr. Barbara Edinger.” She offered Sherlock her hand.
Sherlock let go of Molly’s hand to shake Dr. Edinger’s. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“I didn’t expect you to be a ginger. I’m used to seeing photos of you with darker hair, and more of it,” she said with a smile.
“I had to change my appearance recently,” he said when she let go of his hand. “I may dye my hair dark again soon enough. I’m just waiting for it to grow out some.”
“Well, I don’t mind it,” Molly said with a smile. “I think he looks quite fetching with red hair.”
Sherlock grinned back. “You must be the only one.”
Dr. Edinger chuckled. “Well, I suppose we should get down to business, see if everything is all right and what the sex of the baby is.” She paused. “You did want to know, right?”
Both Sherlock and Molly nodded. “Yes,” Molly said. “We don’t want it to be a surprise.”
“All right then.” Dr. Edinger moved a machine closer to the exam table, and then picked up a small bottle. “Sit up and lift your shirt up. I need to put the gel on your abdomen first, and then I’ll use the want to check on the baby.”
Molly sat up and lifted her shirt up before lying back down again. Dr. Edinger squirted some of the gel on her abdomen and then sat down on the stool next to the table. She took the wand from the machine and then pressed it to her abdomen. “Do you see her yet?” Molly asked.
“Let’s see if the baby’s in a position where I can tell,” she said. She moved the wand and then stopped. She was quiet for a moment. “I can tell you definitively you’re having a girl,” she said.
Sherlock was looking at her and he frowned. “There’s a problem, isn’t there?” he said quietly.
“I’m not sure,” Dr. Edinger said, moving the wand again. “But there could be.”
Molly looked at her doctor with wide eyes. “Is she okay?”
“Listen to her heartbeat. Something isn’t right. I know you bought a fetal monitor and you can tell.” She moved the wand again. “She’s alive. She’s moving in response to me moving the wand. That’s the important part. But I think something is wrong with her heart.”
Molly really listened. It was much faster than usual, and she knew her daughter’s heartbeat had been fast before. She felt terrified right now. “What can we do?” she asked quietly.
“Babies born at twenty-four weeks have a 50% survival rate,” Dr. Edinger said. “They have a lot more health problems, but they can be healthy. I want to admit you to the hospital and watch both you and the baby. I’d like to let you carry her farther to term, but that might not be an option. However, I want to call in a specialist. There are some surgeries that can be performed in-utero, and that will give her a much better chance at surviving if you do have her soon.” She removed the wand. “I’ll get an ambulance to take you to the hospital for emergency gynaecological problems and we’ll get you admitted in the hour. I promise, Molly, we will do everything we can to make sure she’s as healthy as she can be when she’s born.”
“Thank you,” Molly said quietly. Dr. Edinger left the room then. She shut her eyes and reached over for Sherlock’s hand. “I’m scared,” she said quietly.
“I know. So am I,” he said, gripping her hand tightly. “You know the doctors at that hospital system. You know they are some of the best in the country.”
“I know,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “But what if we lose her?”
“We won’t. I know we won’t,” he said, letting go of her hand, to brush away the tears. “You have to have faith.”
“I can try.” She opened her eyes. “What about you? Can you have faith too?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“But in what? You aren’t religious.”
“I have faith in science and in medicine,” he said. “They will be able to heal her.”
“I hope they can,” she said softly. She shut her eyes again as she felt Sherlock lean over and kiss the top of her head. She could have faith. She had to have faith. She had to believe with everything she had that her daughter would be just fine. If she couldn’t have that she didn’t know what she would do.