Franny was nervous as the ultrasound tech chatted and booted up her machine. The warmed jelly spread over her lower abdomen and the transducer pressed. The screen was facing away, and the technician stopped her friendly chatter.
“What is it?” Franny asked.
“Nothing. I’ll be right back.” And she left the room.
A tall man entered with the technician at his elbow. “What’s wrong?” Franny, now desperate, asked.
“We’re just trying to get better pictures. We don’t want you to worry.” He murmured in a quiet soothing voice.
“Oh, good. I was getting worried. What do you see?”
There was a long bit of silence as the tall man moved the transducer with more force, pressing uncomfortably on her full bladder. He looked up at Franny, then back at the screen and said,” It looks like you have a case of beucephaly.”
“What’s that?”
He paused again. “We can see the heart beating, and the head well formed, but your baby has four legs and a tail.”
“What?”
“It seems you have a horse, maybe a pony growing inside you.”
“Oh,” said Franny. “Will it live?”
He frowned. “We don’t often see cases like this. I recommend you talk with a high-risk pregnancy specialist.”
“Can I see it?”
He spun the monitor screen toward her. The black and white fuzzy screen showed the image of a little, folded up pony. Franny smiled. She had always liked horses.
“Let me see if I can get Dr. Barford to come in. She’s just down the hall.”
Franny listened to the swishing of the heartbeat and studied the image. Some questions were forming as she looked and listened.
The perinatologist came in and introduced herself. She too ran the transducer over Franny’s belly, then wiped off the goo and sat down next to her.
Yes, she confirmed, Franny’s baby was “equine” she said. Meaning, they couldn’t tell yet if it was a horse, or pony, or donkey or mule.
“Will it live?”
These can be very difficult pregnancies, she said frankly, and while it may be born alive, most do not live long after birth. And, she added, the delivery process can be very hard on the mother. Sometimes there is premature labor, sometimes high blood pressure, “eclampsia” she said. And it the fetus survives to term the delivery will need to be by C-section.
“What if I don’t want to keep the pregnancy?” Franny asked. “What if I want it to be over now?”
Here Dr. Barford looked down. Many women might choose that, given this diagnosis, but here in Idaho, that choice is not available to you.
“What?” Franny asked.
No, Dr. Barford explained. Unless you can show a criminal complaint of rape or incest, your pregnancy cannot be terminated, because at this stage it would mean that your um, baby would most surely die.
“But you said it wouldn’t live after birth.”
Yes, but some live for a while. But none have gone on to be full grown horses. Or donkeys. Or any full-grown equine species.
Franny frowned. “Rape or incest? She blushed.
Dr. Barford nodded silently. You would need to show a proper police report.
Franny shook her head. “You mean, I have a pony growing inside me and I have to just carry this pregnancy, even if it means I could get sick, have to have surgery to deliver it, and then it’s going to die before it grows up?”
Dr. Barford nodded. Those are the laws here in Idaho.
Franny heard the swish of the heartbeat from the monitor and remembered the four folded up little legs and the nubbin of the tail. “Has anyone ever had a unicorn?” she asked.
Dr. Barford smiled. I don’t think so. But there’s always a first time.