Caeli Widger - Mother of Invention

Which, she thought to herself, was more than Luke could say.

She continued to sit at the window, watching the fog thicken over the water. Then she reached for her phone and called Peter. Straight to voice mail, as expected. The last time she’d spoken to him, from Boston, he’d told her he was headed to some spectacular climb that required a backcountry hike, and that he might be out of range for several days.

But she just wanted to hear the sound of his recorded voice.

Peter Grandwein’s robot here. Please leave a message for my master.

“I know you’re deep in the wild,” she said to his voice mail, feeling a lump begin to form in her throat. “But I just wanted to tell you I’m especially missing you right now. And that when we’re back together, I’m going to be…” She lost her direction and faltered. “Just… better. Okay? I love you.”

Next, she tapped out a message.

To: vivian.bourne@weldon.edu

Subj: Following up

Dear Vivian,

It was a pleasure speaking with you on campus last Sunday. I wanted to follow up with an invitation to contact me personally anytime, and also to visit the offices of Seahorse Solutions. I think you would enjoy a firsthand look at the work we’re doing here. Let me know if you have any interest, and Seahorse would be more than happy to provide a plane ticket. I’m including my number below; feel free to use it.

Best wishes,

Tessa Callahan

Outside, the branches of the Monterey pines whipped seaward with a sudden breeze. Tessa wondered if it might actually rain. The sky perennially threatened it, but rarely delivered. Real rain would be nice for a change, she thought, as she tapped “Send.”

2021

“On a scale of one to ten,” said LaTonya, “how miserable is everyone’s itching?” She pulled a glazed doughnut in half and bit into it.

Tessa sat with the Cohort, a bowl of steel-cut oatmeal with blueberries in front of her, while the other women ate eggs and pastry and bacon. The Cohort was just past the midpoint of their pregnancies: 4.7 weeks in, the equivalent of twenty-one weeks in a conventional pregnancy. The babies were growing at a steady clip, causing an intensified itching in their mothers that cream could no longer control.

“Seven point five,” said Kate stoically. Tessa noticed that although she never complained, Kate had begun to look a bit miserable at the midpoint of her pregnancy, her fair skin blotchy and sprinkled with acne at her cheeks, like a teenager’s. Her trim body and angular bone structure had changed rapidly as her belly grew, her strong chin softened and doubled seemingly overnight. The NauseAway had been effective in the early stages of pregnancy, less so as it advanced.

They’d need to improve upon this in the next iteration, Tessa thought. The women should feel good every day.

She turned to Kate. “Sorry about the itching.”

“It’s fine,” said Kate.

“You look wonderful, though,” Tessa added. “So healthy.”

“And by healthy you must mean fat as a house ,” said Kate, sighing.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Tessa.

“My itch score’s a twelve,” said Gwen. “I never stop itching.”

“Invalid rating,” said LaTonya. “Maximum’s ten. I’m with Kate in the 7.5 zone.”

Gwen leaned toward the center of the table, the ends of her two braids brushing its surface, and pushed her plate. In contrast to Kate, Tessa thought, pregnancy suited Gwen: wrinkles seemed to have disappeared from her skin, and her gray hair had acquired more shine.

“Has anyone felt movement?” Gwen asked. “Any kicks?”

“Yes!” said Kate. “It just started the day before yesterday. A sort of rippling sensation.”

“Like a wingbeat?” said Gwen.

“Yes.” Kate nodded. “Exactly.”

“I’ve got flutters,” said LaTonya. “So faint that I thought it might just be gas. Because I’ve got plenty of that. But now I think it might actually be kicking.”

“Guess what?” said Gwen, a note of rueful triumph in her voice. “I actually don’t feel anything. Not a ripple, not a flutter, not a wingbeat, nothing . That’s why I asked you two about it. Because now is when the kicking’s supposed to begin, isn’t it? Right around twenty-two weeks. But nothing’s happening here.” She hovered her palm over her belly.

“Of course something is happening,” said Tessa. “ Many things are happening inside you, right this second. Your baby is actively developing as we sit here.”

“I don’t know,” said Gwen, somewhat cryptically.

“Sure you know,” said Tessa. “You see the ultrasounds every morning. I see them, too. You’re having a perfect pregnancy.”

“I just started feeling the kicks two days ago,” said LaTonya. “Don’t sweat it, Gwenners. Every woman starts to feel movement at different times.”

“I think I should be feeling something.” Gwen’s voice rose an octave. “I’m feeling nothing. Nothing. ”

“Conventionally pregnant women often don’t feel anything until twenty-five weeks or even later,” said Tessa patiently. “Your baby is just developing at a slightly different rate than the others, Gwen. It’s completely normal.”

“It doesn’t feel normal,” said Gwen. “You can spout all the reassurance you want, but it’s not going to make me feel better.”

Tessa was taken aback by Gwen’s sudden harshness. She changed tack. “Worrying is completely understandable. You’ve all been so brave through this process. It’s inevitable that anxieties will flare occasionally. Just keep talking about them, and they’ll pass.”

“I didn’t realize you were my therapist,” said Gwen.

“Hey,” said Kate defensively. “Tessa’s just trying to help.”

“It’s okay, Gwen,” said Tessa. “I’m not pregnant. I can see how my reassurance feels flimsy. But don’t trust me. Trust your body. Trust the immense trove of brainpower that created TEAT.”

“I’m trying,” said Gwen. She’d stopped eating but still clenched her fork in her right hand.

“We understand,” said Kate, putting her hands on Gwen’s arm. “It’s okay to freak out a little.”

Gwen fell silent, staring at her fork. “I guess it’s not just the kicking,” she mumbled.

“What is it, then?” said Tessa softly.

“Lately, when Gupta does my ultrasound, I have this weird gut feeling—” She faltered.

“Go on, honey,” said LaTonya.

“It’s going to sound crazy.”

“Try us,” said Tessa. “There will be no judgment from this table.”

“This weird gut feeling that… something’s not right with my baby.”

“Did you ask Gupta?” said Kate. “She’s standing right there next to you, holding the wand, isn’t she?”

“Of course,” said Gwen. “She says everything’s fine. It’s just a feeling I have. Logically I know it makes no sense, but it just keeps getting stronger with every morning exam.”

Poor Gwen, thought Tessa. “Your body is in the throes of enormous hormonal changes right now. It affects every part of you, including your brain. Your emotions. I’m not dismissing this worry you’re having, but I do want to remind you that your biochemistry affects your thoughts.”