Page 78 of Where the Wattles Bloom

Lachlan noticed that Rowena only finished half her sandwich and nibbled at one of Reggie’s famous Anzac biscuits. But she drank all her tea and, frankly, that was more than she could eat in a single setting a few weeks ago so … progress!

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her about a scan. He’d been reading up on it and, aside from giving them some accurate dates, it could also pick up foetal abnormalities.

And, of course, there was some selfishness there, too.

He’d watched about a hundred YouTube foetal scans and the moment the stenographer pushed the button and that tiny heartbeat filled the room? He wanted that. He wanted to hear his baby’s heartbeat.

Not to mention that the books stressed the importance of early obstetric care in a pregnancy. And here they were at almost twelve weeks and Rowena hadn’t seen anybody.

He rolled his head to the side to ask her about it. To gently suggest maybe they should get one done. There was something about the hush right now that made him think she’d be receptive to his request, that she’d be able to see why it was so important to him.

But her eyes were shut, and she looked so restful he didn’t have the heart to wake her.

Nineteen

A week later, Rowena was coming to the end of her twelfth week. Tomorrow, she’d be entering her second trimester. And it was like a switch had flipped.

Which made her feel simultaneously relieved and worried.

She was suddenly less tired and the nausea seemed to have settled almost completely—overnight. There were still vague, fleeting moments of queasiness, but a Life Saver here and there usually did the trick. Part of her celebrated the relief from the relentless nausea. Part of her knew decreased nausea was common in the second trimester.

But the other part was tied in an anxious knot as she thought about all the sinister possibilities.

Sudden cessation of morning sickness symptoms could be a sign that her hCG levels were dropping. HCG was necessary to support a growing pregnancy. So, if the levels were dropping? It could herald the loss of a heartbeat.

Of a miscarriage.

And Rowena did not know how she’d cope with that. She was very aware that the fourteen-week mark would be approaching soon, and that had formed some kind of mental benchmark. If she got past that, maybe this baby would be okay?

Maybe it would all be okay?

Another therapy session helped. Helena pointed out that while her tiredness and nausea had reduced significantly, she was still experiencing both. They went through all the other things that feeling well again could mean.

Things that Rowena already knew.

Like a natural plateauing of hCG levels in the second trimester. Which was normal. Her body getting used to the levels of hCG. Adapting. Which was what bodies did. And the fact that having pregnancy symptoms fluctuate was also very normal.

Helena once again counselled Rowena to get an ultrasound. That it might actually give her some peace of mind seeing everything was okay inside her uterus, seeing a strong heartbeat. But Rowena still baulked at the idea. She understood Helena’s thinking. Hell, if the situation was reversed, that’s what she’d be counselling too.

But Rowena couldn’t.

She knew there was no logic to it—that seeing her baby on an ultrasound screen would make zero difference to whether it survived or not. Even less logical was that somehow losing the baby would hurt less if she hadn’t seen the heartbeat.

It was just a mental hurdle she couldn’t get over.

Not before that benchmark fourteen weeks. After—maybe. But not before.

Another thing she’d noticed—which was far from existential but still a definite change—was that she was suddenly exceptionally, and rather inconveniently, horny.

Also perfectly normal.

Rowena knew that pregnant women entering the second trimester often experienced an increase in sexual desire. The initial double whammy of tiredness and morning sickness had generally settled, and there wasn’t yet the issue of a large bump or third trimester fatigue to negotiate. On top of that, there was a bunch of sexy-time hormones running around, as well as an increased blood volume to the genitals.

Talk about the holy trinity of sex drive.

Add to that how elusive her orgasms had been, and Rowena’s second trimester horniness was well and truly exacerbated.

The problem was, this wasn’t just general horniness. She wasn’t looking at every available man who crossed her path with lascivious intent.