Page 31 of Laced With Secrets

“I look like I’m wearing a paper bag.”

“A very attractive paper bag.” He pressed a kiss to my temple.

Before I could respond, Dr. Westfield knocked and entered. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. A blue and white striped dress peeked from beneath her crisp white coat.

“Leo, good to see you.” Her smile was genuine, warm. Then she turned to Dominic, extending her hand. “And you must be Dominic Steele. I’m very pleased to finally meet you. I’ve been treating your mate for several weeks now, and I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Dominic said, shaking her hand with that corporate polish that never quite left him.

“Well.” Dr. Westfield’s eyes twinkled slightly. “Yes, all generally positive.”

She washed her hands at the sink, then pulled up my chart on the computer screen. “I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Steele. It’s always better when we can have both parents involved in the prenatal care.”

She turned to me, her expression professional. “How are you feeling, Leo? Any concerns since last visit?”

“The nausea’s better,” I reported. “Not gone completely, but manageable. I’m tired a lot, but that’s normal, right?”

“Very normal for first trimester. You’re at thirteen weeks now, so you’re just entering the second trimester. Most omegas find their energy returns around this time.” She gestured for me to lie back on the examination table. “Any cramping? Spotting? Unusual pain?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Good. And you’re taking your prenatal vitamins?”

“Every morning.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Westfield pulled over her rolling stool and the ultrasound machine. “Now, before we get to the exciting part—hearing the heartbeat—I want to mention that I’ll be referring you to an obstetrician who specializes in male omega pregnancies. Dr. Amara Hassan, downtown. She’s excellent, and this is completely routine procedure. Nothing to be concerned about.”

I felt Dominic tense beside me. “Why does he need a specialist?”

“Standard protocol,” Dr. Westfield assured him calmly. “Male omega pregnancies involve some unique physiological considerations. Leo’s anatomy—like all male omegas—includes adaptations that allow for pregnancy and birth, essentially a form of intersex biology. The cloaca serves multiple functions and undergoes significant changes during pregnancy and delivery. Dr. Hassan has specialized training in managing these specific anatomical differences and ensuring optimal outcomes for both parent and baby.”

She pulled up some diagrams on her computer screen. There was a translucent view of a male omega’s distended abdomen with a fetus curled inside. Beside it, was a detailed cross-section revealing a male omega’s specialized reproductive tract, every duct and channel carefully labeled in precise medical terminology.

“Dr. Hassan has extensive experience with male omega births,” Dr. Westfield said. “She’ll work closely with me to monitor Leo’s progress and ensure everything proceeds safely.”

I looked at Dominic, watching as he studied the diagrams with serious attention. When his gaze turned to me, he looked slightly rueful. “I’m realizing how little I actually know about the specifics. Alphas should be better educated about this. We just… aren’t.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Dr. Westfield said warmly, her expression approving. “It’s something I advocate for constantly—better education for alphas about omega reproductive health. The fact that you’re here, asking questions, wanting to understand—that’s exactly what Leo needs. And Dr. Hassanhas excellent resources for partners. She’ll walk you through everything.”

“When would he start seeing her?” Dominic asked, his hand finding mine.

“I’ll make the referral today, and they’ll call to schedule. Probably within the next week or two.” Dr. Westfield smiled reassuringly. “I think you’ll both like her. She’s very experienced, very thorough.”

I squeezed Dominic’s hand. “I actually feel better knowing there’s someone who specializes in this.”

Dominic nodded slowly, though I could feel his protective instincts churning through our bond. “Okay. As long as it’s routine.”

“Completely routine,” Dr. Westfield confirmed. “Now, let’s take a look at this baby and get that heartbeat for nervous Dad over here.”

Dominic moved closer, his grip tightening on my hand. I could feel his anticipation through our bond—sharp and electric.

“This will be cold,” Dr. Westfield warned, squirting gel on my stomach.

It was cold. I flinched slightly, and Dominic’s grip tightened.

Then Dr. Westfield placed the transducer on my belly and moved it slowly, the screen showing grainy black and white images that looked like abstract art to my untrained eye.

“There we are,” she murmured, adjusting slightly. “Perfect position. And there’s your baby.”