Jules had never paid much attention to pregnant women or babies before. She hadn’t really thought twice about the condition of pregnancy; she had considered it more of a bodily function rather than a state of being.

Not anymore.

Despite being only three months pregnant, Jules was already experiencing the whole gamut of symptoms. Swollen ankles, nausea at the smell of cinnamon, and a constant need to pee were just a few of the most bothersome symptoms. Impossibly, her boobs were bigger. Her hourglass figure was rapidly beginning to resemble more of a snowman shape.

Through massive research Jules knew all about each stage of pregnancy. And she knew that probably, she was gaining weight too fast. All of those “extra” biscuits and cheesy breads didn’t add up to this much -- after all, she was eating for two. Right? Her boss, Miranda, had just pointed out a rather alarming possibility that Jules had never considered.

It was time to check in with her friendly neighborhood pregnancy consultant, Flynn Hughes. After she was sure Miranda was gone, Jules rushed up a floor to Hughes’ office and tapped a quick tune on the door with her fingers. The tune became a little more frantic, the more time Flynn took to answer.

Flynn didn't have any meetings scheduled at this time, but it wasn't unusual for coworkers to stop by to chat from time to time. He did his best to keep his office an accessible and open space for people, and he wanted his coworkers to be able to approach him with any problems they had with the hospital fearlessly.

A very pregnant looking Jules entered his office, and he greeted her with a wide smile. He was so excited for her-- becoming a parent was a huge deal, and he thought that she was a brave woman for doing it alone. Single mothers were not to be messed with-- his sister Audrey had taught him that. "Jules!" He exclaimed, waiting for her to close the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

“Jules! How are you feeling?”

“Fat,” Jules replied without missing a beat. “Too fat.” She turned to her side and presented her shape to Flynn. Jules’ experience with pregnancy was limited, but she was pretty sure she shouldn’t be so big. Unless those extra biscuits had more of an effect than ever before. Or if Miranda was correct. The possibility of multiple babies seemed impossible.

She sat down in one of the chairs in Flynn’s office. Ah, sweet relief. Jules refused to give up her stilettos, even if she tripled in weight. The spiky pumps made her feel powerful, although they were now especially exhausting.

“Should I be this fat?” Jules asked skeptically, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. Would she become a human blimp? Most of this extra weight would be gone once the little guy popped out, wouldn’t it? She unconsciously rested a hand on her belly.

Flynn knew better than to answer a woman asking him if she looked fat. He'd been chewed out by Audrey enough, and the memories of it still haunted him to this day. But. Jules was asking him from a medical perspective.... And she was pregnant. The weight gain wasn't in her face. Her arms looked thin.

In fact, it looked like the weight was mostly in her midsection, and she looked waaaay farther along than the vast majority of women at this stage in the pregnancy. Twins were likely. Maybe triplets. There'd have to be tests to find out for sure, but he was pretty sure.

"Jules..." How to phrase this. "Have you considered the possibility that, uh. You might be carrying multiples?"

[Warning: Language!]
 
 "Have you considered the possibility that, uh. You might be carrying multiples?"
 
This was exactly what Jules had been afraid he would say. “Fuck, Flynn!” Jules burst and let her muscles go slack for a minute. She groaned as she sat back up and began to rub her temples. She tried to get her brain working again, but the only thing she could think was ‘Multiple Births.’ “Fuck,” she repeated to herself. After a minute she looked back at Flynn, not knowing what to do with this unfamiliar feeling of worry.
 
“Miranda just suggested the same thing,” Jules admitted. She looked down at her belly. “Or that I’m lying about when I’m due. She just left my office, all pissed. I think.”  Instead of watching Flynn’s reaction to confirm how bad this was, she closed her eyes and returned to rubbing her temples. “Fuck. Fuck.” Repeating the word was her new strategy for regaining brain function.
 
She was cursing her own thoughtlessness; why had she taken so many fertility boosters? For some reason she had convinced herself that was a good idea. Hindsight proved she was an idiot. “How many of them are there?” Jules eventually asked. “Ugh, what was I thinking, this was such a dumb idea.” She shook her head and tried to outthink the rising bubble of anxiety.

Flynn gave Jules a doe-eyed stare, like a buck that was a girl deer. Standing in traffic. Staring at the lights. Welcoming the sweet release of death.

Okay, maybe not the sweet release of death. The point was, Flynn was staring at Jules with wide eyes. Why? Who knows, but Jules was cussing and freaking out... So maybe that had something to do with it.

".... Why would Miranda be mad about you being pregnant..?" Why was Healer Elliot mad at anything? Flynn had yet to uncover that mystery, and anyone who could would win the prize of a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Clearly, Flynn didn't want to make a monetary commitment to this discovery. "Well. If she's mad, you'll get over it. There's not much you can do about being pregnant now." Not that she wanted to. Hadn't Jules been trying to have these babies. He'd kinda assumed she was having twins...

"You're 18 weeks, right?" Almost halfway? "19?" He got out of his seat and opened a drawer, taking out a stethoscope. He took out his wand and quickly charmed it to enhance the sounds of heartbeats-- and potentially differentiate between them so he could figure out how many babies there were. "I can listen for multiple heartbeats for you." He offered, "But if you're more comfortable, I can refer to to Carol Kemp."

".... Why would Miranda be mad about you being pregnant..?"
 
Jules pfft-ed and threw her hands up in the air. Flynn was trying to keep her calm, she could tell, and she appreciated the effort, but she felt like she was falling down a well and it was making her want to slap him in the face just a little. Not enough to make her actually do it (a very important distinction).
 
”You’re 18 weeks? 19?”
 
The nod Jules responded with was unsure. She hadn’t been paying very close attention. She had made her best effort to do so, but the hospital had been busier than ever lately and sometimes a week would pass in the blink of an eye. 18-ish weeks sounded right. She attempted to quickly do the math in her head and once she solved it, began to nod more confidently.
 
”I can listen for multiple heartbeats for you." He offered, "But if you're more comfortable, I can refer to to Carol Kemp.
 
She stopped herself from calling the well-respected midwife an old bat just in time to change it to: “If I wanted that, I’d’ve just gone to her.” She played off the edge in her voice by joking, “Unless you think she’d sedate me before giving me the results. I know you wouldn’t be so nice.”

Flynn liked Carol Kemp-- she had been the one to train him in midwifery. Most mothers wanted to have a woman as their midwife. Some women, however, did not care as long as you had the training and the experience to help them have the healthiest pregnancy and birth possible. Midwives were also responsible for checking in on new mothers regularly.

He wasn't comfortable with sedating Jules with potions-- especially due to the fact that they could be a risk to the babies. She knew that though. Instead he offered Jules an amused smile tinged with sympathy.

"Er, if you don't mind then... Can you expose your stomach?" God, this was awkward. It wouldn't have been awkward with a patient, but it sure as hell was awkward with a coworker. He pushed through it though. Jules needed the help, and she was going to him. 

Jules knew from experience that examining a fellow healer was intensely awkward, no matter how you went about it. She preferred it when the patient didn’t try “lightening the mood” with terrible jokes about how uncomfortable it all was.
 
She couldn’t resist, though. “Merlin, you’d think you’re the one giving birth to a litter,” Jules teased him. “Don’t worry, I’m already pregnant.” The joy of torturing the people around her cheered her up a bit. She followed instructions and lifted up her top so that her gigantic moon of a belly was exposed. She would have felt more awkward around Carol Kemp, to be honest.

Flynn let out a laugh and shook his head at Jules. He was glad to see that she was recovering so swiftly from the shock, but was also worried that it would hit her hard later. He doublechecked the magical stethoscope to make sure it was at the right setting before placing it on Jules' abdomen.

Then he listened, adjusted, and listened some more.

He detected two heartbeats for sure. Flynn turned up the volume on the stethoscope before he picked up on the third heartbeat. He moved the stethoscope around to be sure. There were three strong, steady heartbeats. He stood up straight. "Well, Jules." He offered her the stethoscope. "I heard three heartbeats. You can confirm if you want." It would probably make it more real for her, and give her a certainty that hearing from someone else wouldn't bring.

Carrying multiples though-- that was a high risk pregnancy. She would have to be on bedrest soon, if she wanted to carry the babies long enough for them to be viable without sacrificing her health.

"Well, Jules." He offered her the stethoscope. "I heard three heartbeats."

Three. Three of them. "Oh, fuck." Jules could never brag about the cleanliness of her vernacular, but today in particular provided some solid evidence against her. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples again, as if literally trying to get the gears in her head moving.

For close to a minute, Jules continued doing this in total silence, and for a moment she forgot she was in Flynn's office at all. Suddenly she returned to reality and exclaimed, "What am I going to do with three babies!" It was the only thing she had been thinking during the long silence. The first outburst seemed to get her motor moving.

"I'm such an idiot Flynn, I took all these fertility potions because I thought - I'm getting so old, it might be hard, especially without a regular partner, I mean I didn't know if they would be fertile so I just wanted to be sure - I should have known I'd have no trouble getting pregnant, my mother's been telling me my whole life I have" - Jules adopted mother's ultra-posh upper-class accent -
 "child-bearing hips and tits big enough to solve world hunger" - the word vomit continued - "I was just so determined and I don't even fucking know why, I don't even know why. I don't even know why I want A baby, and now there are three." Jules hadn't noticed that her eyes were filled with tears (or maybe she refused to notice).

"You can confirm if you want."

Jules was just now hearing that Flynn said this, even though some time had passed since he made the offer. She took the familiar tool from Flynn and listened. And even though she had known what she was going to hear - Flynn had just told her - it still took her by surprise. Indeed, three heartbeats there were. Tears came and dropped, but they were an entirely different sort of tears than the ones she'd started with. Once she realized they were there she wiped them away quickly, like she was concerned that she was possibly having some sort of stroke or heart attack. It didn't take her long to understand what was happening, of course, but she still looked to Flynn to check if he was seeing this. She hadn't been this emotional since..... ever. She had never been this emotional.

"Woah," Jules handed her friend back his stethoscope. "Three babies.."

It seemed that Jules was going through a whirlwind of emotions, and Flynn wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. She was usually so collected and almost cold. There was something about being pregnant that was... Opening up a whole new side to Jules. He knew she had her worries about being a single mother-- let alone a single mother of triplets. As her friend, he was determined to be there for her in whatever way he could.

"Well, congratulations." Flynn smiled, giving Jules an awkward side hug-- complete with a pat on the back. "Three babies." He echoed, "How do you, uh." He stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck, "You alright?"

Jules could practically feel the hormones careening through her body. She didn't want to imagine the horror of having had to witness that tsunami of emotion. Once Jules regained perspective she was pretty horrified herself. So touchy feely. It was like her heart had grown three sizes.

With emotions apparently came hugs. This was nice though; it felt.... comforting? She leaned into it a little and let the hug last. Was that it possible that another human could make her feel such a thing? That had to be some sort of myth. Jules suddenly realized what

"You alright?"

That was a very, very good question and one that Jules didn't know the answer to. "Probably not," Jules quipped wearily. She rubbed her forehead. "A martini would be nice." Understatement of the year. She sighed and let her hand drop onto her belly. Out of the blue something occurred to her and she looked very seriously at Flynn and demanded, "Don't let me be too mean to them."

Jules didn't refuse the hug-- in fact, she seemed like she appreciated it. She may have a cold exterior, but at least she was warm with the friends in her life.

Or, well... Warm-ish. Lukewarm.

She wanted a martini. Too bad, she couldn't have one. That'd have to wait until she wasn't incubating little witches and/or wizards. But if he had been in her position, he'd want a martini too. Or a nice tequila.

"You'll be a great mum," He assured Jules. After all, Audrey was a great parent even though she was a cold person. You could tell how much she loved her son. "But I promise, I won't let you be too mean to them. Just a little mean." He offered her a wink.

"But I promise, I won't let you be too mean to them. Just a little mean."
 
At this Jules laughed. Anyone who knew her reputation would find the idea of her trying to be only a little mean (i.e., mostly nice) was laughable. “Only a ‘little’ mean, huh?” She held up her fingers to measure a ‘little bit’ and peeked at him through the tiny space. “That’ll take practice,” she remarked. “Being ‘nice’ and that.” She said the word nice as if it were the most preposterous thing she could possibly become.
 
A thought occurred to her and in the spirit of things she asked, “Are godparents still a thing?” No one in their right mind would have bestowed such a position on Jules. Even before she was done asking the question she knew she was going to do what she wanted regardless.
 
She sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “I would really like it if you’d be their godfather,” Jules officiated. She waited a beat before teasing, “‘Cuz I know you’re the mushy type of idiot who likes that kind of stuff.” Jules grinned and pinched her fingers together again to remind him that she only had to be a little bit nice.