Mr. Big Daddy (Mr. Big 3)

"No, you just have to ask me. It's up to my discretion to approve. Considering your condition, do you think you'll be able to finish the work by June of next year? When are you due?"

I sighed. By my calculation, I was due in May. As long as I felt really good during the second and third trimesters, I should be able to get the work done by June...

Right?

"I'm due in May. But I could probably get the paper done before then. I don't expect to feel great the last month of pregnancy, so I'd shoot for getting the paper in by March or early April."

"If you like. I can give you an incomplete now, and you could also take a leave of absence. The incomplete would then be extended by another six months. That might give you enough time to adjust to your new baby and get work done, if your pregnancy is anything like my wife's."

"Thank you," I said. "I'll talk to my husband and get back to you as soon as possible."

We said goodbye and I ended the call, feeling despondent.

I should have been feeling happy that I was going to be a mother and Luke was going to be a father. We had everything we could possibly want or need -- Luke was wealthy, we had a wonderful apartment in the city and the use of a huge home in Westhampton. Luke could pretty much write his own ticket when it came to investing in the space industry, and once I had things sorted out with the morning sickness and pregnancy, I could take whatever time I needed or wanted to complete my PhD. I would have to manage being a new mother as well on top of that, but it was doable.

I planned on talking to Luke once he arrived back from his trip into the city to sign some papers and meet with a potential investor. I knew he would support me in whatever course I decided to take. I was upset, however, that I might have to take a leave of absence from the program. It was looking more and more like that was going to be the only way out of handing in a less-than-stellar paper.

My grades up until then had been top of the class, with straight A+ in everything I took. If I got a bad grade in my first PhD course, it would be disastrous for my standing in the competition for scholarships.

I spent the rest of the afternoon looking over my paper, what I had written to that point, and felt like there was no other choice. My pregnancy brain fog seemed to prevent me from being able to be critical of my own writing. It didn't seem good enough, no matter what. I rewrote sentences and paragraphs, but they seemed either just as bad or even worse than before.

Finally, I gave up and lay back down in bed, a hand thrown over my eyes and cried.

That was how Luke found me when he arrived back home and came up to the bedroom.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said and slipped off his suit jacket, dropping it on the chair by the closet and coming over to the bed. He lay down beside me and pulled me into his arms, my books and laptop slipping around on the bed beside us. "What's the matter?"

I shook my head, unable to speak and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He let me cry silently for a moment, holding me tightly.

Finally in control, I wiped my cheeks and pulled away, meeting his gaze.

"I spoke with Professor Gilliam earlier. I think I have to get an incomplete in my class and maybe take a leave of absence for six months or even a year."

"Okay," Luke said. "We already talked about this before. You probably need to take a leave of absence once the baby comes anyway."

"If I take an incomplete, I have to get my final paper into him by June of next year. But I'm due in May, so that means I'll have to get it done and into him before then. Maybe March or early April. What if I'm sick all my pregnancy?"

"You won't be," Luke said and shook his head. "It's very rare for a women to be sick her entire pregnancy. Dana was and so there's no way you will be. It's not statistically possible."

"It's completely statistically possible," I said. "It's not likely, but it's still possible."

"The odds ratio are not good enough to even bet on it, so don't worry. Soon, you'll be back to normal and will be able to work on your class and get it done by March, no problem."

He smiled and he seemed confident, but I wasn't. Even as I lay there with Luke, the time nearly five o'clock in the afternoon and even after taking my anti-nausea meds, I still felt sick and tired.

"I wish I had your confidence..."

"Don't worry," he said and kissed me. "I have enough confidence for all three of us."

We lay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying each other's warmth. I was so glad Luke was so positive. He raised my mood whenever I felt down.

"Are you sure your paper is that much of a disaster that you can't just hand it in on time and get your class over with?" he asked.

I made a face, uncertain whether it was good enough to hand in. "I don't know..."

"Can you not ask a fellow student what they think? Or maybe your supervisor? Would they be willing to review it before you hand it in? That way, you'd get a more objective view of it. All this talk about delaying your class might be premature. Maybe you'll start feeling better in a week or two, we'll go off on our honeymoon and then you can come back and finish your semester. Hand in your paper -- voila!"

"It stinks," I said and shook my head. "It's rough. I have no idea how to make it better. My brain fog is terrible. Did you know a woman's brain shrinks by 10% during pregnancy?"