text file (16k)

Scully has pregnesia.



RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: V

Disclaimer: I have no memory of writing this fic.

This story is dedicated to Rita, who introduced me to the wonders of Pregnant Amnesia Fiction. I never, ever would have written this is if it weren't for you. (I'll be sending you my therapy bill.)


* * * * *
* * * * *

The doctors said it was a strange side effect of her pregnancy. Mulder believed it was a side effect of her chip, but he didnít dare suggest they take it out. Most days, she was just fine. But there was the odd occasion when her condition resurfaced, and he never knew when it would strike. And frankly, he was getting a little tired of it.

* * *

"Oh, my God! What happened to me?"

"What?" Mulder struggled to find lucidity in his sleep-thick haze of the early dawn. "Scully, what is it?" He was afraid something was wrong with the baby. She was in her eighth month, and they'd had reasons for concern.

At first, she seemed not to notice him, staring down at her swollen belly. As he sat up, she definitely took note. "Mulder, what are you doing in my bed?!"

He sighed and let his head drop back against the headboard. "Oh." She was simply suffering another episode. The baby was most likely fine.

"Mulder, I'm pregnant!"

"I noticed."

"Very pregnant!"

"Very, indeed."

"Mulder!"

He bit back a frustrated groan. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't remember, and it wasn't fair to take his frustration out on her, when right now she was feeling rather confused and even scared. But he'd been through this too many times already, and he was tired of playing the same broken record.

There was little emotion in his voice as he recited the same old story. "Scully, you're suffering from a bout of transient epileptic amnesia. Somehow, it was brought on by the pregnancy. You're eight months pregnant, with my child, and we've been living together for the last four months. And in an hour or so, you're going to remember all of it. Until then, the confusion and disorientation are normal. Just trust me on this, look at the evidence in front of you, and wait for your memory to return."

"But, Mulder, I've never had epilepsy, and it's not a normal side effect of pregnancy. Why would it cause me to forget I'm pregnant?"
He lost his battle against a yawn and decided to give in to its call. He slid back down in the bed and under the covers.

"I don't know, but it did. Just tell yourself you're dreaming, and go back to sleep. Everything will be all right in a couple of hours."

* * *

What amused Mulder about her condition was that sometimes she didn't remember that she didn't remember. This morning was one of those times. Apparently she had taken his advice and fallen back to sleep, because when he woke again, she was snoring away (delicately, of course). After she got up, everything was back to normal, and she never said another word about her early-morning "seizure."

But it also worried him that the random bouts seemed to become more frequent the further she got into the pregnancy. This was one of the reasons that he insisted on moving in with her and that he avoided out-of-town cases whenever possible. He wasn't sure how she would react if she woke up one morning disoriented--and pregnant--and didn't have anyone there to explain it to her. He joked with her that if she was lucky, she would forget the labor, but he honestly hoped she wouldn't forget she was pregnant *while* she was in labor.

For some reason, the amnesia didn't cause her to forget more than the last eight or nine months--the time they were together and had become parents. He tried not to take offense, but it would be nice if she wasn't always so shocked to find him in her bed.

* * *

The first time her condition surfaced had been rather disorienting for both of them.

At that point, they werenít living together yet. In fact, some distance had grown between them since she had informed him of her pregnancy. They both needed some time to adjust to the new reality--or, at least, he assumed that's all it was. Ironically, her amnesia helped her to forget she was supposed to be distant.

That morning, he had arrived early at work, since he was unable to sleep well in those days. She trotted in at her usual time, mumbled her "good morning," and headed for the coffee pot. The one they still stocked with full-strength industrial sludge courtesy of the federal government. He tried not to make as much coffee since he knew she couldn't have the caffeine, but on mornings like this he wouldn't be functioning without it.

Confused, he asked, "Scully, what are you doing?"

She gave him the eyebrow as she poured herself a mug of steaming swill. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"That's not decaf."

"I wouldn't be drinking it if it were. I'm not exactly drinking it for the flavor."

She stirred in some creamer and took a sip from her mug, cringing at the taste.

Mulder couldn't take it anymore. All he could think about was the caffeine harming the baby. He marched over to intercept her on her way back across the office. Before she could lift the mug to her mouth again, he yanked if from her hand.

"Hey!" Her surprise quickly shifted to indignation. "Mulder, what do you think you're doing?"

He dumped the contents of her mug into the small sink in "her area" and then turned to meet their argument head-on. "What do you think *you're* doing, is the question. You know you can't have caffeine. What were you thinking?"

"Why can't I have caffeine?"

He was puzzled at what game she was playing, until he realized it was a genuine question. He looked down to her abdomen, then back up at her eyes. She couldn't have missed the gesture. But there was no recognition on her face.

He wasn't sure he wanted to have this conversation here. They still weren't certain whether their office was bugged, so by tacit agreement they hadn't discussed this situation at work. But she seemed to be forcing his hand. He wondered if maybe that was her point.

He stepped closer, close enough that he could answer in little more than a whisper. "You know why. The baby."

"What baby? Mulder, what are you talking about?"

She honestly didn't know. He could see it in her expression. She had no idea what he was referring to. He could also tell she was weighing his mental health.

His mind rapidly flew through the possibilities. Alternate universe? Time warp? Alien mind wipe?

"Scully, what day is it?" he tried to ask casually.

"Tuesday, the twenty-fifth."

Yep, she was correct there. And she was definitely starting to doubt his sanity. He could tell by the adorable wrinkle developing on her forehead.

He ruled out time travel, since everything else seemed continuous with yesterday. That still left the possibility of an alternate universe. Proof--he needed proof.

"Scully, can I see your day planner?"

"What? Why?"

He gave her his best "because you love me" grin. "Just humor me?"

She huffed out a longsuffering sigh. "Fine. If you promise to tell me what this is all about."

*If only I knew,* he thought.

She pulled her calendar out of her bag and handed it to him. He flipped to the twenty-fifth. Sure enough, there was the name of her OBGYN, written down at noon. None too soon, either, since it seemed that at least one of them may be in need of a doctor.

He turned the book and showed it to her.

"I have an appointment today? I don't remember scheduling that."

"And you don't know why you would schedule it?"

"No, Mulder. What is this all about?"

"Scully, maybe we should head over to the doctor's office a little early. I'll try to explain it to you on the way."

Really, he wasn't sure which one of them was wrong. Was this a Scully from another timeline who somehow got sucked into his? Or was he in another reality where Scully wasn't pregnant and she was seeing her doctor for an entirely different reason? Either way, what he really wanted was evidence, since he knew that was the only thing that would convince her. She was scheduled for an ultrasound today. If the baby was still in there, they would see it.

* * *

The baby was certainly there, although they were all stumped. The doctor was stumped at why Scully couldn't remember her pregnancy. Scully was stumped that she suddenly woke up one morning three months pregnant and couldn't remember how she got that way. Mulder was stumped that he couldn't find a paranormal explanation for why this was happening. By the time the doctor had cancelled two other appointments for the morning and scheduled Scully for a battery of the few tests they could give her that wouldn't endanger the baby, Scully was back to normal and was stumped that they were both looking at her so strangely.

* * *

It took a week, and half a dozen specialists, but finally they came up with a diagnosis of transient epileptic amnesia. "It's a form of epilepsy, essentially," Scully explained to him. She could forget her baby and their sex life just fine, but she had no problem remembering her medical training. "It affects the temporal lobe, although the condition usually manifests itself through seizures. Patients who experience it as episodes of amnesia are extremely rare."

On the bright side, the pregnancy seemed to be the only thing she forgot. She could remember how to fire a gun, how to administer first aid, how to Mirandize a suspect, how to wield a scalpel--all quite handy in their daily routine. But what she sometimes forgot were why three-inch heels were suddenly hazardous to her health, why she could no longer fit into her favorite skirt, and why she wasn't supposed to have caffeine. He eventually took the coffee pot out of their office entirely and decided that if she had to go cold turkey, he might as well too.

Of course, they couldn't tell Skinner about this little complication--either one of the complications--or he would certainly pull her from the job. Selfishly, Mulder wasn't ready to give up his partner or the X-Files. He also wanted to keep Scully close since he wasn't quite sure when or where her amnesia would strike next. And he had a sneaking suspicion that if Skinner sidelined her, she'd forget about it and show up at work anyway. It was just easier to keep the whole thing under wraps.

After the morning she pranced in with a double espresso from Starbucks, however, Mulder decided that drastic measures were in order. He moved into her apartment uninvited. Conveniently, she was in her second trimester by then, and whenever she tried to object to his presence, he took pleasure in reminding her about the positive side effects of all those raging hormones. He moved his fish tank to her place, and her coffeemaker to his. Then he made a dozen copies of her latest ultrasound and taped them up all over her apartment.

By the eighth month, he'd heard every variation of her morning greeting.

"What the hell?"

"Mulder, where did this come from?"

"What are you doing here? I don't remember inviting you over."

"What kind of sick joke is this?"

"I want an explanation!"

And, on her better mornings, there was simply: "Oh, yeah."

Sometimes that brief reminder of the ultrasound, or the beach ball that had gradually blossomed from her midsection, brought it all back to her and she was fine for the rest of the day. Sometimes she took an afternoon nap and woke disoriented again. Other mornings the amnesia persisted for an hour or two. While other pregnant women had morning sickness, Scully had morning amnesia. Of course, it didn't occur every day. To Mulder, though, it often felt like it.

There was little the doctors could do for her. The only medications strong enough to stop the seizures would be harmful to the baby. Technically, other than putting her at risk of downing a latte, the amnesia wasn't causing her any physical harm, so the side effects of the amnesia were less dangerous than the effects of the drugs. They could only wait it out and see what the next step would be if the episodes persisted once the baby was born.

* * *

She was almost at forty weeks when he woke up to a new line.

"Mulder," she whispered in embarrassment, "I think I wet the bed."

"Your water broke?"

"My water? Oh! Where did that come from?"

He decided that getting her to the hospital was the first order of business. Whether or not she remembered why she was going there didn't matter.

"Are you having contractions?" he asked as calmly as he could, hopping around in one shoe while he tried to shove on his jeans over his pajamas bottoms.

"Contractions?" she asked her in her all-too-familiar confounded voice. Which was followed by a shout of "Ohhhh!"

"Yeah, one of those."

Still holding his other shoe, he crawled onto the bed. He rubbed her back while she grunted through the contraction. "Breathe, Scully. Remember how we learned in Lamaze class?" If he'd had a free hand, he would've slapped himself in the forehead. "No, of course you don't."

The contraction passed quickly, and she stared at him with astonished eyes. "Mulder, I'm pregnant!"

"Hey, I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later."

"How did I get pregnant?"

He scooted off the bed and shoved on his shoe. "I don't really have the time to explain the birds and the bees to you right now, but maybe on the way to the hospital."

* * *

Unfortunately, she was lucid enough when the anesthesiologist came by to remember that, like all insane women, she wanted to do this naturally and didn't want an epidural. Mulder said that if she didn't want one, he'd take one instead. The doctor didn't realize he was serious.

By the time she was in labor for four hours, she was wishing that she could forget she was pregnant. By the sixth hour, Mulder was wishing they could both forget. Then there was a lot of screaming, and pushing, and screaming, and pushing, and screaming about pushing, and all either one of them could remember was that she was having a baby, their baby, and it was the most amazing miracle they had ever seen.

* * *

Mulder tried to rock the baby back to sleep, but it was his fussing that woke her. Mommy radar, Mulder guessed. Or, he hoped. Scully had been out like a light since shortly after the delivery. After so many hours of labor, she was exhausted. He was still on the adrenaline high from meeting his new son, and he wasn't ready to relinquish the boy to anyone else just yet.

"Mulder?"

He shushed and rocked his cranky son as they made their way across the room to her. Which Scully would greet him this time?

"Why do you have a baby?"

Mulder sighed. He guessed it was too much to hope for that childbirth would suddenly cure her. She wanted to do feeding naturally too, which meant no drugs for her until she was done nursing.

How long before the baby would be weaned?


*****
*****

Notes: This story is in no way meant to make fun of people who genuinely have transient epileptic amnesia or any form of epilepsy. It is, however, meant to make fun of pregnesia. Everything I know about transient epileptic amnesia I learned from Wikipedia, and I didn't really read it that closely anyway. Any similarity to an actual medical condition is purely coincidental.

When I originally conceived of this story, it was meant to be humorous. I even considered using it to make a mockery of Seasons 8 and 9 and the whole William storyline. But then Mulder couldn't be in it. So the real story ended up being much more serious and pointless and rambling and altogether uninteresting. I think there was some purpose for this story, but I can't remember what it was.
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