She was much less exuberant than she’d been during our first meeting as we wound our way through the halls, but I wasn’t sure if she was irritated or if I was just seeing who she really was. There had been a few times before when she’d seemed disappointed or even annoyed, making me think the bright smile was a carefully crafted façade, but it was difficult to know for sure. Perhaps, that was who she was with all the willing participants. It would makesense that she’d adapt a much harsher persona for women like me. Women who didn’t want to submit.
I expected her to lead me to the miniature sitting room we’d been in before, but instead she took me to an exam room. It was strange since she wasn’t a doctor or nurse, but I told myself to get used to it. I would be in rooms like this a lot during my time in the program, most of them with my feet in stirrups while I stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the people examining my most intimate parts.
“You can have a seat in one of the chairs,” Hilary said when I’d stepped into the room. “The doctor and nurse will be in shortly to start the whole process, but before that, I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any questions or concerns and that you knew what to expect. Did you have a chance to look over the information you were given?”
“I did,” I said in a voice that sounded much too meek to be my own.
“And do you have any questions or concerns?”
I shook my head rather than respond.
Hilary’s mouth turned up in a plastic smile. “Good, good.”
She grabbed a small, wheeled stool from beneath a desktop mounted on the wall and pushed it closer to me before taking a seat. I watched this play out, imagining a man in a white coat doing the same thing, only he would be between my legs. He’d have something that resembled a turkey baster in his hand, which he’d use to inject a stranger’s sperm into my womb, and if all went as planned, nine months later, I’d squirt out a baby for the government.
My stomach twisted, and I closed my eyes, only vaguely aware of Hilary droning on.
“As I told you during our previous meeting, you’ll be fitted with a wristband today, which you are not to remove for any reason. Not only will it monitor your temperature, but other aspects of your health as well. Including your sleep cycles. It’s important that we keep track of your health, so you have the best chance of not only conceiving but also of carrying your baby to term.”
I thought about getting pregnant, about miscarrying. Not just once. But again, and again. Was there a clause in the contract that said I was exempt after multiple miscarriages? I didn’t know. I hadn’t thought to ask.
I opened my eyes, ready to enquire about this but was cut off when the door opened.
“Happy day!” a gray-haired man exclaimed as he stepped into the room, the nurse from my last visit only a few steps behind him. He came straight to me, clasping my right hand between both of his without provocation. “I’m Dr. Hendricks, and I must tell you what a blessing it is to have a new patient in the program. We’re doing special things here. Very special. And you’re lucky to be a part of it.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, which earned a snort of derision from the nurse.
The doctor ignored her. “We’re going to go over some stuff today, and I’m going to take a quick peek down there just to make sure everything is okay,” I blushed even though this wasn’t my first gynecological exam, “but for the most part, this will be a relaxed visit. Think of it as us getting to know one another. Okay?”
He beamed.
I squirmed.
I’d never felt the need to get to know any of my other doctors, and for good reason. They were my doctors. We weren’t friends, and we didn’t need to know one another. Yet, for some reason, this man thought it was important that we become acquainted. I couldn’t imagine why.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to require a response from me, because he immediately shifted his focus to Hilary. “Have you finished with your part?”
“Everything but the wristband!” she proclaimed.
The doctor clapped his hands as if offering a prayer to the heavens. “Excellent!”
Were these people high? Why were they so happy?
Hilary extracted herself from the wheeled chair, careful not to fall when it started to shift, then moved to the counter. I hadn’t noticed the pile of papers or the small, gray band on topof them when entering the room and was surprised when she picked it up. It was exactly like I remembered, silicone with a rectangular face. It resembled a smart watch but was much more menacing considering it would be aiding these people in getting me pregnant.
I had to resist the urge to glare at the thing when Hilary stopped in front of me.
“Which wrist?” she asked.
I looked from my bare right wrist to my bare left one, trying to decide. I never wore a watch – there was no need since I always had my phone – and I wasn’t sure which wrist to put it on. Either way, it was bound to be irritating since I wasn’t used to wearing anything, but being right-handed, I decided to go with the left.
I lifted it. “This one.”
Hilary gave me a bright smile that reminded me of a teacher praising a particularly slow student. “Very good.”
She wrapped the band around my wrist, urging me to turn my arm over so she could secure it. She took a moment to adjust the band, making sure it was snug so it wouldn’t slip over my hand but not too tight that it would hurt me, then clipped it shut. When she stepped away, I inspected it, immediately realizing that her warning to never take the thing off had been wasted breath. I literally couldn’t take it off. Not without cutting it. Which meant that for the duration of the program, I was a prisoner to the thing.
“Now,” Hilary began in a chiding tone, “don’t look so glum. It’s not as bad as you think, and it’s important for your health. It will keep Dr. Hendricks up to date on everything that’s going on with you and ensure your time in the program is successful.”
