Chapter 43 - Preparations.

"Brian, I'm putting down on your Birthing Plan that you want me present with you at all times, even through the C-Section. If you don't mind, I know Daphne would be happy to be there too and she would definitely be a help to me. Is that okay?" Justin asked, going over the questions on the worksheet for Brian's Birthing Plan, which they were supposed to turn in to Chiefy at today's appointment. "Do you want anyone else to be able to come in while you're in labor or delivery?"

"Fuck no! Daphne's okay, I guess. She doesn't usually get on my nerves too much, but NOBODY else. I don't want a bunch of people staring at me when I'm in pain like that. Can you even imagine how useless Mikey would be in that kind of situation?"  

"Got it! And, I'm in complete agreement on NOT having Michael in the room," Justin concurred as he marked something off on the checklist he was reviewing. "Next, do you want me to bring music to play while you're in labor? What about wearing your own clothes? And, I'm definitely going to be taking pictures, just get used to the idea now."

"I'll be too busy screaming to worry about music, Sunshine. And, I'd rather not ruin my clothes. Can't I just be naked like always? I mean, anything I bother to put on is just going to get pulled off for the C-Section anyway. These are stupid questions."

"Check! What about having Residents and Medical Students in the room. You know Chiefy's going to want that considering how rare your case is."

"Can't we just play that by ear?" Brian suggested. "I'd rather just leave that up to you. I don't mind a few extra doctors or students, but I don't want to be the focus of some damned circus. Just put down that I'm giving you the power to decide when it's too much."

"I can do that. Now - Pain Relief - do you want to try alternative methods of pain relief in the beginning, like acupressure or massage, or just go straight to the drugs?" Justin asked, although he already thought he knew the answer.

"Drugs! Immediately, of course!" Brian demanded.

"Big surprise," Justin replied sarcastically. "Okay, how do you feel about Cord Blood Banking?"

"I don't feel anything about it because I have no idea what it is," Brian retorted, getting slightly annoyed by all the questions while he was trying to shave.

"The blood in the umbilical cord is rich in undifferentiated stem cells," Justin, the walking, talking PSA explained. "It's useful if the baby needs surgery later. They also use it in a lot of genetic research. So, if you don't object, I'm going to put down you'll donate the cord blood to a public bank. We can always change that decision later if it looks like the baby has medical problems and needs it."

"Whatever, Einstein. How much more of this is there?"

"Not much. Since we already know you're having a C-Section, most of the questions don't apply," Justin replied placatingly. "Okay, Postpartum Stuff. I'm putting down that you, of course, want a private room and you're going to want a cot or bed for me there so I can stay over night. That's non-negotiable. I'm also putting down you want all procedures on the baby done in our presence and when you can't be there you want me to be. Also, non-negotiable. And, I'm assuming that you're going to say 'No' on circumcision."

"You'd be assuming correctly," Brian confirmed as he shook out his razor and dried his face.

"That just leaves 'Feeding Issues', which we need to discuss with Chiefy. So, we're done. You're all set, Brian. Feel free to go into labor at any time!" Justin joked, following his man out to get dressed.

"What do you mean 'Feeding Issues'?" Brian demanded, not one hundred percent sure he really wanted to know the answer.

"Well, um, I figured Chiefy would go over that with you today . . . "

"Justin, come on, just spill. You know I'll do better if you at least give me a head's up before Chiefy springs it on me."

"It's just that, with some male pregnancies, the birth parent can breast feed afterwards. It's not always possible. It depends on genetics and a lot of other stuff . . "

"I'm going to get tits?" Brian dropped the shirt he'd been about to put on at this unexpected news.

"You kind of already do, Brian . . . I mean they're not big or gross or anything, but they are bigger than you normally are . . . " Justin hesitantly admitted.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Justin?" Brian demanded as he raced back over to examine himself in the mirror. "Oh, fuck! I've got tits! When did that fucking happen?" Brian asked dejectedly. "This is just so . . . Wrong!"

"It happened awhile ago, Brian. You were just too focused on how big your belly was getting, so you didn't really notice," Justin explained, petting Brian's arm to try and keep him calm at this new revelation. "But, it's a good thing, really. If you are able to breastfeed it's so much better for the baby. And, they say it helps the parent get back to their pre-baby weight faster."

"Fuck it!" Brian said resignedly, turning away from the disappointing image and putting on his shirt quickly to hide the evidence. "At this point, everything about this whole situation is just too ridiculously weird. I shouldn't even be surprised by anything new anymore. I can't believe I have tits, though!"

"Just promise me one thing, Justin," Brian looked over at his companion with complete seriousness after a few moments of contemplative silence. "If my dick actually falls off at any point, please just kill me and get it over with. I don't even want to know why you're doing it. Just, put me out of my fucking misery, please."

"I'm pretty sure that won't happen," Justin reassured his man. "At least, it's never come up in any of my research. But, rest assured, Brian, I'd never let you suffer like that."

Thankfully, Daphne showed up right at that moment and forestalled any further discussion of emasculation or mercy killing.

This was probably their last doctor's appointment before Brian's situation was made public to the world. They wanted to try and keep things secret for just a little while longer though, so that their big news wasn't already deflated before the GQ issue came out. So, the Prego Stud team was resorting to drastic measures this time around.

Chiefy had already been briefed on the big reveal. She'd even been interviewed for a follow up article and was expected to play a big role in future press releases. Chiefy and her hospital were more than happy about the share of the publicity they'd be getting, and were willing to do whatever it took to make B4 work. So, Chiefy had done a little magic on her own part to help with today's subterfuge.

Using her extensive contacts, Chiefy had arranged to do today's appointment at a small private hospital run by a friend of hers. The setup was perfect - there was a private, underground parking structure that wasn't accessible to anyone not on the security list, and a private elevator that the team could take directly to the doctor's offices. The appointment, made in Justin's name, was set up as usual through the normal hospital channels. Only Brian, Justin and the Chief knew about the change of location. Hopefully, when the news about the appointment was leaked, as always, the media would show up as expected at the hospital, while they would all be miles away.

And, the plan seemed to work pretty well. The car service picked them up at the loft and drove them, via a circuitous route meant to throw off anyone following them, to the private hospital. The check-up with Chiefy went by quickly. It was a short appointment this time without the usual allotment of tests.

There were only two notable issues that came up this month. First, Brian had only gained a measly pound and a half in the past month - undoubtedly due to all the work hours he'd been putting in and the stress. This put him squarely back in the 'underweight' category and resulted in another long lecture from Chiefy about nutrition and why the baby needed to be a certain weight for proper development. Brian was astounded that, looking at his huge, watermelon-sized belly, he could possibly be considered underweight. But, he suffered through the lecture and made copious promises to amend his evil ways. The doctor scheduled a follow up appointment for two weeks out and warned him there would be dire consequences if he didn't show more progress.

The second issue was on the expected topic of his tits. Chiefy did a thorough breast exam and pronounced that she was convinced Brian would be one of the lucky ones who would be able to breastfeed his baby. Brian wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea.

He squirmed uncomfortably on his chair all through the subsequent lessons on the benefits of breast feeding, discussions about colostrum, immune system benefits to the infant and a bunch of other uncomfortable topics that made Brian slightly squeamish. Justin suggested, and Chiefy readily agreed, that they should make sure to have a lactation specialist available for Brian at the hospital immediately after the birth, so he could be properly trained in breast feeding techniques. Brian was too embarrassed to weigh in on the decision. He just wanted to leave by that point.

They did leave soon afterward, making a point of driving by a bakery on the way home and force feeding Brian two croissants as a preemptive afternoon snack. They didn't see any media types at the doctor's office they'd met at and were readily congratulating themselves on their sneakiness. Daphne was excited to have been officially included on the birthing plan and insisted on staying to help Justin start packing Brian's hospital bag.

Justin of course had a checklist he'd printed off the Internet for this too. Justin and Daph giggled their way through the list, trying to come up with Brian equivalents for all the female oriented items. Brian was trying to ignore all the hoopla by hiding out at his desk going through email. It wasn't till they were halfway through the packing that Daphne  pointed out they were missing a big part of what they'd need for the hospital trip and afterwards.

"Shit! She's right, Brian," Justin complained. "We haven't got anything for the baby yet. We're going to need clothes and diapers and bottles and bedding . . . Brian, where's that 'What To Expect . . .' book? It's got a list in there somewhere about what we need to buy. I can't believe I haven't thought about this yet. I was just so focused on Brian and getting B4 set up and . . . "

"Calm down, Justin," Brian ordered as he dug the requested book out of his briefcase for the fretful teen. "We've got tons of time left to get all that shit. I was thinking we'd be better off waiting until the house was done before we get stuff for the baby. Otherwise we'll just have to move it all later."

"Actually, that's not true, Brian," Daphne spoke up bravely. "Anything from 37 weeks on is considered a full-term pregnancy. You're not that far away from that now. And, it's not uncommon for some people to give birth a week or two early, even in normal, uncomplicated pregnancies. I was just reading about this the other day, kinda getting a head start on my reading for biology class next term. So, really, you should be ready to deliver basically any time now."

"What the hell are you talking about, Daphne?" Brian had gone very still at this announcement from the soon-to-be-Pre-Med student. "It's nine months, right? Forty weeks. All the books say I've got forty weeks. That means I've got another five or six weeks at least, maybe longer."

"Well, that's true, except that traditionally a pregnancy is measured from the first day of a woman's last menstrual cycle. Which obviously doesn't apply to you, Brian. So, if you measure from the date of conception, it's more like 37 or 38 weeks, depending on when in the cycle the actual conception occurs. And, then you have to figure in a two week leeway either before or after, because every pregnancy is different, you know. Which means anything from 35 weeks after conception is a fair estimate. So, Brian, you are basically due any time. . ." Daphne was about to go on with her erudite explanations when she suddenly noticed how pale Brian had become.  

"No. Fucking. Way!" Brian insisted. "It can't be. I've got weeks . . . I'm supposed to have more time. . ."

"Jus!" Daphne called her friend who was busy digging around for something in the bathroom. "Justin, I think I freaked Brian out again. You better come help me get him breathing again."