When her expression morphed from one of concentration to enthusiasm, I let the breath out of my lungs in a loud whoosh, refilled them, and slumped against the doorframe just as she exclaimed, “Positive!”
Positive. Positive. Positive.
The word echoed through my head, making me queasy. I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby. Against my will.
I wanted to throw up.
Nineteen
The rest of the meeting was a blur. I met with the doctor, who went over what to expect in the coming months, which I was grateful for since I hadn’t gotten past the first trimester last time even though I doubted I’d remember much of what he’d said. Not that it mattered, since they gave me theDepartment of Fertility’s Official Guide to Pregnancy. That was the actual title of the book, which I found laughable. A better title would have beenWhat to Expect When the Government Fucks You. Or something like that.
When the doctor had done his part, he left me alone with Hilary, who had more documents for me to sign. Again, I wanted to laugh. Hadn’t I already signed my life away with the other ones? It had felt like it. Apparently, however, the government disagreed.
Hilary had been droning on for probably fifteen minutes, but I didn’t absorb a single word until she smiled brightly and said, “I know we already went over most of this, but now that you’re officially expecting, we wanted to reiterate how important all this is.” She pushed a few papers toward me. “If you’ll just sign on the last line, we’ll be all done!”
I stared at the document, my mind spinning as I took in her notations. Had I responded to anything she’d said? I didn’t think so, but her notes said differently.
Scanning the things I’d apparently said during the meeting,I shook my head. None of them were familiar, but they were all appropriate. Yes, I understood I had to adhere to all the rules set in place by the Department of Fertility. Yes, I had the right to opt out. Yes, I understood that I could change my mind up to twelve hours after the baby was born. No, I did not have any questions or concerns. The last one was a lie, but also understandable since there was no reason to voice my questions or concerns.
I skimmed the rest of the comments, which were more of the same, then quickly looked over Hilary’s observation of me. As usual, she’d missed nothing.
Participant– that word was laughable –seems to be in shock. Will have to keep an eye on her as her pregnancy progresses.
Since I had nothing to add, I signed on the dotted line and slid the papers across the table.
Hilary’s bright smile hadn’t wavered even though she had to have been watching me closely to gauge my reaction. “Excellent!” She picked the papers up, shifted them until they were in a uniform pile, then said, “At ten weeks, we’ll do an ultrasound and genetic testing to verify the baby is healthy.”
I wasn’t sure what my motivation was for asking the question, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “And if it isn’t? The baby, I mean. What if the baby isn’t healthy?”
There had been a time when women had a choice. When they could have chosen to terminate a pregnancy if something major was detected either through genetic testing, ultrasound, or amniocenteses. Not anymore. Not since abortion became illegal in 2040. Still, I was curious what the government would do if they discovered there was a major problem with the fetus.
As usual, Hilary knew what I was getting at and frowned. “We’ll monitor both you and the baby to make certain everything goes well. We want the baby to have the best possible start regardless of its health and we want to make sure we do everything in our power to keep you healthy. Within reason.”
She meant as long as it didn’t jeopardize the baby. I was, after all, expendable to a point. They still wanted my uterus. I was actually shocked they hadn’t figured out a way to extract a fertile woman’s womb and use it in a lab. Probably, that would havebeen more cost effective and definitely less of a pain in the ass for the people working here.
“But there’s really no reason to worry,” she continued. “Thanks to the program, most birth defects have been eradicated.”
That sounded like a crock of shit, but I let it go.
“If you don’t have any other questions, I guess we’re all done,” she said as she got to her feet. “No appointments are needed, so when you reach the ten-week milestone, you can come whenever it’s convenient for you. Until then, remember to take your vitamins, eat well, get a lot of sleep, and attend any counseling sessions you have scheduled.”
I stood on legs that were as wobbly as overcooked noodles. “Okay.”
Hilary’s bright smile actually made me squint. “Great!”
We parted ways, but I barely remembered leaving the consultation room. I didn’t remember arriving in the waiting room, or passing Department of Fertility Barbie, or the ride in the elevator. Ramirez was a blur, and my exchange with Vera when I reached the lobby was nothing but a fuzzy memory as well. Almost as if I’d watched someone else say the words.
“Ms. Murphy?” Vera had said as I mindlessly passed her.
I turned my attention to the person addressing me, registering that I recognized her but at first not really knowing why. When I took in her uniform, it clicked, but I still couldn’t make myself respond.
She hesitated before saying, “Is everything okay?”
“I’m pregnant.”
It was the first time I’d said the words out loud, and it should have made more of an impression on me, but I was too numb for that. Was I in shock? Probably. Later, after it set in, would I have an emotional breakdown? Most definitely.
I could tell Vera was working hard not to react, but it didn’t work, and not only did her mouth twitch, but her back stiffened. She definitely shouldn’t quit her day job and move to Hollywood.
