would you ever write garsanshimi having another kid?
sure, here :)
18+
cw: discussion of infertility, medical discussion, explicit medical details re: reproductive organs, a teensy bit of breeding kink
Trinity Santos has always held the belief that she is secretly really fertile. Maybe it’s the Catholic upbringing and well-founded fear of immaculate conception (she does not want to be the next Virgin Mary, thankyouverymuch). Or maybe it’s that she’s always been relatively healthy (physically) outside of her sports injuries. Either way, she feels that there is a high likelihood that she can get pregnant really easily, and she has no evidence to the contrary because the only dicks that have ever been inside her have been silicon. On top of all of that, she’s always wanted to be pregnant, to carry her own kids.
And sure, maybe that shows itself as a little bit of a breeding kink, but who can blame her? Her girlfriends are hot, and when she moans “knock me up, daddy,” one night, it only makes Yolanda drill into her harder.
Baran brings it up the next day. Asks if that was a one-off line for the bedroom, or if Trinity had actually been thinking about kids. Asks Yolanda about her response, too.
Trinity has been thinking about it, but more in the abstract. She always envisioned herself as a parent to multiple kids. And she loves being a mom to Baran’s son, doesn’t mind sharing him with his four other parents as much as she thought she would. But she hasn’t put any thought toward reconciling her expectation to have her own kids someday with how her life looks now.
Yolanda surprises them both by saying she has been thinking about it, seriously. Says she never thought she could be a good parent, didn’t think she was very warm, had been a terrible babysitter to her younger siblings. But the relationship she’s built with Baran’s son has opened her up to the possibility. Wants to see him be a big brother. She wonders what a kid that is a combo of all three of them (either in genes or just personality) would be like. Finds herself longing to meet them.
Baran looks relieved. When they ask why, she says she’s been wanting to bring it up for a while now, but wasn’t sure how. She feels a little selfish for wanting another one when her son is already here, but she shares Yolanda’s desire to meet someone that is all of them.
Baran can’t carry a child again— age and complications from her successful (and a subsequent unsuccessful) pregnancy make it too risky. Yolanda says she’s never seriously considered it, but doesn’t like the idea of being pregnant very much.
Trinity shares her theory, which her girlfriends do not take seriously, as there is no medical evidence to either prove or disprove it. They do start making plans, though. Taking steps. Realize that since they’re all on board, there isn’t much reason to wait.
The first step for Trinity is an appointment with her OBGYN. Obviously to put some money where her mouth is in regard to her inhumanly epic fertility, but also to check in on some abnormal bleeding she’s been having lately. She goes alone, because she hasn’t really told Baran or Yolanda that her last period started a month ago and hasn’t really stopped since then. The blood loss hasn’t been extreme, she’s barely noticed it herself, but it doesn’t really line up with her “perfect reproductive organs” vibe.
It’s the first non-injury doctor’s appointment in her life that has resulted in follow up appointments. First it’s a trip to the lab to have blood work done. Then it’s an internal ultrasound (which she does tell them about, and allows Baran to hold her hand during). Then it’s an appointment, an actual appointment, not a call, about the findings of the ultrasound. At least her doctor is at PTMC, so she can go up during her shift.
The findings are… well, she doesn’t have a perfect reproductive system, but she does have one. The bleeding has probably been caused by the multiple polyps lining the walls of her uterus. She’ll need to have an outpatient procedure done to address those, since they’re causing symptoms. And then there’s the cysts. Three of them, all under 2cm, almost certainly benign. It’s their locations that are problematic. One is nestled right in the center of Trinity’s right ovary, impossible to remove or biopsy without removing the entire ovary with it. The other two cysts, on her left ovary, are more favorably placed, but there’s still substantial risk to her ovary if they try to remove them. In theory, none of this should make it impossible for Trinity to get pregnant, but they don’t have a lot of information yet. After the procedure to remove the polyps, she has to undergo six months of consistent internal ultrasounds to ensure the cysts don’t change in size or shape, that it’s safe to leave them where they are.
It’s hard not to see the six months as time she could be getting pregnant wasted by checking up on what she’s started to call Things 1, 2, and 3. When the final ultrasound comes up “same as before” and she’s cleared to start trying, Trinity jumps for joy. They’ve already found a donor (a friend of Baran’s), she’s been tracking her ovulation with at-home test strips for four months. They’re ready.
So they try. Trinity’s super-fertile self image had already been shattered at that first doctor’s appointment, so she doesn’t let it hit her too hard when the first test comes up negative. They try again. The second negative hits harder, but her girlfriends assure her it will be okay, these things take time. They try two more times before she starts taking hormone injections with every cycle. Each new attempt is a renewed sense of hope, new dreams about what could be. Each negative test is a wave of grief stronger than the last.
After the tenth negative test, she goes in for another ultrasound. This time, the cysts have changed, and they need to come out. Trinity loses both her ovaries, and with them, her dreams of pregnancy.
(Technically, IVF is still an option, but Trinity is too wrung out, too defeated, too tired to put herself, put all of them through that.)
They all grieve for a few months before Yolanda brings it up.
Yolanda goes to her OBGYN. She’s good to go. It only takes three tries.
She takes the test alone, and tells them separately. Tells Baran first, watches the joy take over her face and tears spring to her eyes. Trinity cries when she learns, too. Mostly they’re happy tears, and Baran holds her through the ones that aren’t.
The pregnancy is hard on all of them. Yolanda has the worst morning sickness, which lasts all day and almost all the way to the third trimester. Baran defaults to mothering Yolanda, holding her hair back, making ginger tea, and offering lots and lots of advice. It drives Yolanda crazy. All she wants is to be left alone.
Meanwhile, Trinity does not like the version of herself she becomes. She plays the part of supportive partner perfectly, but she catches herself crying at the smallest things. Name discussions, making the gift registry, cleaning up Yolanda’s puke. Early on, she has a breakdown in the kids clothing section at Target. Ends up in regular therapy after that.
And despite all of that, they all allow themselves to get a little excited, too. Only pretend not to like the games Emma makes everyone play at their work baby shower. Only fight a little bit over colors and furniture and decor for the nursery. Only fight a lot about names. (How do you name a baby that comes from three distinct cultures?)
When she arrives, their Amalia, Trinity is the first to hold her. Standing by a hospital bed—Yolanda’s sweaty head slumped against Trinity’s stomach, Baran raining down kisses from her spot behind Yolanda’s back— something inside of Trinity that she didn’t know was broken clicks back into place.
For a moment, the grief is gone and in its place is something so much better.