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Wednesday, December 19th, 2007 10:12 am
It was all routine. It was Meredith's sixth month of her sixth pregnancy. She was a strong specialist, and enjoyed her work very much, even the bittersweet moment of goodbye when the child weaned and moved on to the youth house where he or she would be raised by the child development specialists. She had kept in touch with a couple of her assignments: they were doing quite well.

Today was a consultation, where she and the doctor would look back over the streams of her metabolic information which had constantly accrued since her last visit. She like her doctor: she had worked with her before. Actually, Yasmin had gone to post-house with her, and it had been a nice friendly reunion when they met again in Meredith's third. Last time, Yasmin had said "You're just a textbook example of a well-chosen and well-nurtured specialist, Meredith. You could easily go for as many as eight more pregnancies before retiring."

Meredith was pleased to hear it, but she had her plans worked out and she expected to retire after number ten.

Yasmin gestured her to the window seat of her comfy pink and green office. "Let's look," she said.

The streams came up in a brilliant shimmer. One ofthe things Meredith had been taught in her training as a pregnancy specialist was how to read them. So it was a tie between the two of them in the race to interpret the streams first.

"Too much angiotensin II," Meredith said. "What is that going to mean?"

"We'll probably just tweak your metabolism for now," Yasmin said, "But it might mean you might want to consider early retirement."

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