Potential - conclusion

chapter 1

“Pregnant?” I exclaimed. “How is that even possible?” My eyes were as wide as saucers and my my lower jaw hung down to my chest. I was so flabbergasted that I had dropped the cup of coffee I was holding for the doctor down on the floor below.

“Um, you do know how babies are made, don’t you, Mister LaRoque?” the doctor said dryly, a hint of a smirk cracking over his thin lips.

“Yes, of course,” I said as I carefully stooped down to pick up the now empty coffee mug. My belly was starting to get so big and round that even something as simple as stooping down to pick up a cup off the ground was becoming an arduous task.

“I think what he means,” Sylvia chimed in, “is look at us. We’re both totally obese. How are two people as fat as us even able to make a baby? I thought it was really hard for a woman my size to get pregnant.”

“Well you two are sexually active, aren’t you?” said the Doctor. Sylvia and I looked at one another, both of our faces were red. Sexually active was an understatement; we’d basically been joined at the pelvis nonstop for months. “As long as you’re able to still have sex you can make a baby,” Dr. Zane continued. “Life always finds a way.”

“So what do we do now?” I said as I pushed myself back up from the floor. “Isn’t this a very high risk situation?” As I said this I could see a look of worry come over Sylvia’s face.

“There are risks,” said the doctor, “but there are risks in any situation, and there’s a lot we can do to help.”

I was stunned, and I didn’t know what to do or say. I guess I was foolish to think that we were somehow protected from something like this happening just because we both happened to be super-fat. My mind was racing, inside I was panicking, but I had to try and be strong for Sylvia.

“Marco,” the good doctor said, sensing the state of unease I was drowning in, “could I have a word with you in private?”

“Sure, doc.” I said.

“You just relax, Miss Sylvia,” he said, patting her lightly on her tummy before making his way toward the doorway where I was still standing. “Everything is going to be just fine.”


The doctor pulled me aside in the hallway, and we had a very frank discussion about what was going to happen. He told me that there were many precautions they could take, and that a woman Sylvia’s size would be capable of carrying a baby to term without issue under proper medical supervision.

“Now obviously,” he said to me, “because of her size we can’t just plop her in an ambulance and bring her to the hospital; so the best thing to do would be to bring some staff and some equipment here to you.” Then his eyes started darting about, as if he were evaluating his surroundings.

“Do you rent?” he asked point blank.

“Oh, no,” I said, “I own this place. I’ve lived here since I was in college. Its not fancy but it’s all mine.”

“Good,” he said, “we should consider taking down this wall.”

Dr. Zane patted his hand against the wall, indicating that he wanted to open up the bedroom so that it would connect to the main living area. He then went into some detail about all of the monitoring equipment he wanted to bring in, telling me that there would need to be a nurse on duty at all hours of the day and night.

“Now I realize most insurance plans might not cover such special treatment,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “So if you think this is going to be a problem let me know and I can see if we can make some other arrangements.”

“Listen, doc,” I said to him earnestly, “you might not guess it by looking at this place I live in, but my family actually has a lot of money. I haven’t been too close with my parents lately as they don’t exactly approve of Sylvia’s and my lifestyle, but when they hear that they have a grandchild on the way — they will do whatever it takes.”

“Okay, fair enough,” replied the doctor. “Let me get back to my office, I’ll make some phone calls and do some paperwork, and we’ll get this show on the road!”


When Dr. Zane was gone, I went in to see how Sylvia was doing. She had a smile on her face, but I could tell that she had been crying after we left the room.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I never thought I’d actually be a mom.”

“Do you want to be a mom?” I asked her as I walked over to her and took her by the hand. “I support whatever you feel, Sylvia. I really do.”

“Well,” she said, “I don’t know — I mean I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t excited. I’ve always thought it would be so wonderful to have a family someday.”

I put my other hand on top of her massive abdomen and rubbed gently. She felt so soft and warm as she lay naked in a bed that was barely big enough to hold her. Feeling the smooth round surface of her belly, realizing that there was more than just layers of fat inside of there now — that’s when it really dawned on me that I was about to be a father!

“But look at us,” she said, gazing down at the mammoth pile of flab before her. “Look at me! I’m huge. How in the hell am I supposed to take care of a baby?”

“You’re not the only one,” I said to her, grabbing a handful of my own lard. “Look how fat I’ve gotten over the past year. Can you imagine me running around after a little one?”

We both chuckled a bit before looking at one another wistfully. The truth is, we both could imagine it. Even though there would be risks, even though it would be a challenge, and likely mean a big change in our lifestyle with both of us having to make major compromises and sacrifices — deep down we knew that this was something we both wanted.


The next several weeks brought about rapid change. Sylvia slowly started to regain her appetite, and upon Dr. Zane’s insistence I continued to feed her just as much as I did before we found out about her pregnancy. “She’s a very large woman with an overextended stomach — she needs to be eating almost constantly in order to keep up her strength and insure that she and the baby are getting the nutrients they need.”

My trips to the market doubled in frequency, and Nestor the butcher and all the other vendors were so excited when I told them about our good news. All of them kicked in some extra grub on top of our usual orders to help ensure that Sylvia would stay extra well-fed.

Her body was growing at an alarming rate. It was hard to imagine that one little baby inside of her was causing her get so much bigger, but between all of the extra calories she was consuming, the hormones raging around inside of her and an overabundance of amniotic fluids, her belly was inflating bigger and bigger by the day.

But her belly wasn’t the only thing that was getting bigger. Her breasts were becoming engorged with enough milk to fill an ocean, and her nipples began seeping persistently. After a little while the nurse had to rig up a special pump that we attached to her that would suck up all the milk and store it in these large bags. Before long she was producing about thirty gallons per day.

The nurse was a sweet little old lady named Gloria. We put her up in one of the guest rooms in the apartment, and she mostly stayed out of our way. She just came in from time to time to take Sylvia’s temperature and heart rate, make sure she was comfortable and sometimes help me with the task of feeding her.

One evening before bed, I was helping Gloria change out the bag on the breast pump when she looked at me and gave me a nudge and a wink. “You know,” she said, “I’m willing to bet that you could help her take care of all this milk as good as this bag can.” She giggled lightly and dimmed the lights before she left the room.

“You thirsty, big boy?” I heard Sylvia coo, looking at me through the darkness with her come-hither eyes. Pulling the nozzle off of her nipple, a small geyser of thick white fluid formed on top of her chest. “Come and get it!” she told me.

Rushing over, I placed my mouth around the circumference of her areolae, and a steady stream of breastmilk gushed down the back of my throat. It was so thick and sweet, it was like drinking a milkshake straight from the fountain at the ice cream parlor. I sucked and sucked and sucked for hours, alternating between the left and right breasts — until I was so full I felt like I might bust.

“Ugh! No more!” I groaned as I fell backward into a chair in the corner of the room, grabbing my massively swollen belly and letting out a loud belch. “One more drop and I think I’m gonna pop!”

“Hehe, look at you,” Sylvia teased, “your belly is so huge now! You’d better watch out or they’re going to think you’re the pregnant one here.”

Her milk was so plentiful, so rich and fattening; I must have put on close to forty pounds as a result of just that one evening. I sat back in that chair like a lump for hours, feeling the liquids sloshing around inside of me as my stomach worked overtime to digest it all. I was in a lot of discomfort, but it was worth every second of it. Suckling on Sylvia’s lactating breasts was a good way for us to stay close and maintain physical intimacy. By this point both of us were getting way too big and fat and Sylvia’s condition was much too delicate to try and hit it like we used to do.