by Maggie Wells
“She used my credit card,” said Mommy.
“Of course she did, Lois,” Daddy said.
“Can we discuss this later?” Mommy asked.
“Oh yes, we’ll talk about it later,” Daddy said.
Sara and Candace scooted out the back door.
“Geez, what was that about?” Sara asked.
“Get used to it, kid,” Candace said. “Daddy is all about the money.”
Candace and Sarah found their way to the common room at the hospital.
Inside, couples sat in a circle on a large mat. The women sat in front of their partners and leaned against them. The girls took an open spot with Sara sitting behind, supporting Candace’s back.
“Hey fatty, not so much pressure,” Sara hissed.
“Shut up!” Candace hissed back.
“Welcome to our class!” the instructor said. “I’m Joanne. I’m a registered maternity nurse here at Brigham and Women’s.”
“Hello, Joanne,” the group said in unison.
“It looks like we have some newcomers today,” Joanne said. “Would you like to introduce yourselves?”
“Nope,” Candace muttered.
“Hi, everybody,” Sara said. “This is Candace.” She pointed at Candace. “And I’m her sister, Sara. I’m the coach.”
“Welcome, Candace and Sara,” Joanne said. “You’ve already figured out the sitting position. Now why are we sitting this way? When our mommies go into labor, the coaches will help them bend forward and push. Now, let’s practice our breathing again. Four deep breaths, panting. And then one slow breath. Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo. Close your teeth. Ssssss. Now, all together. Contraction!”
The coaches and mommies leaned forward, looking at their toes. Collectively, the group panted in unison.
“Woo, woo, woo, woo, sssss,” Candace panted. “What the fuck is this?”
“I don’t know,” Sara said. “This helps the baby come out?”
“In what way does this help the baby come out?” Candace asked.
“Just shut up and follow Joanne’s instructions,” Sara said. “We’ll get the hang of this.”
Back at home, Candace checked in with her posse.
Candy: Anybody check out this Lamaze thing?
Aleecia: Kyle and me go every Saturday.
Candy: So what’s the deal?
Shawna: Something about natural childbirth. You can google it.
Izzy: So if we just do this breathing thing, the baby pops out? Just like that?
Jasmine: I guess, right?
“Mommy, I don’t feel good,” Candace said one morning at breakfast. At least now, she was allowed to eat a real breakfast—eggs, toast, cereal, whatever she wanted—as long as it was organic and healthy for the baby.
“In what way?” Mommy asked. “You haven’t had morning sickness in quite a while, are you feeling nauseous?”
“No. When I walk, or ride on the T, my insides feel heavy and it hurts when they bounce.”
Mommy thought for a minute. “Hmm, I don’t remember feeling that when I was pregnant. Why don’t we make an appointment with Dr. Bird? She’ll probably want to do another ultrasound.”
Candace perked up. She was dying to see Squirt again! Maybe this time she would see his nose and his fingers and toes and maybe his penis! “Can we go today?”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll be lucky if we can get an appointment this week,” Mommy said. “How are you doing on the paper?”
Daddy had enrolled Candace in two classes through the Harvard extension program. Daddy chose The Ancient Greek Hero to make sure she was keeping her mind active and engaged. Those were his words. Candace selected Existentialism: Existence and Anxiety because it sounded funny.
“I’m halfway through The Iliad. I keep falling asleep,” Candace said.
“It’s important that you demonstrate to Princeton that you’ve made good use of this gap year. You don’t want them to rescind the offer, now do you?”
“They can do that?”
“You bet they can,” Mommy said. “If word ever gets out that you got yourself pregnant and wasted a year, you might find it hard to get accepted into any school, including UMass.”
Candace was pretty sure that Mommy was lying. She knew Mommy was worried that she would lose her ambition and would never leave home. Kids were doing that, these days, she thought—living at home into their 30s. That wasn’t an option here. She knew Mommy and Daddy had other plans for their golden years.
“Get your fanny upstairs and finish that book.” Candace heard an edge in Mommy’s voice and didn’t argue.
Dr. Bird had a worried look on her face. She passed the wand over the same spot on Candace’s swollen abdomen repeatedly, pressing harder each time.
“Ow,” Candace said. “I think I need to pee.”
“Bear with me, sweetie,” Dr. Bird said. “One more pass and . . . okay, that’s it.” She snapped off her latex gloves and looked up at Mommy. “We have a situation here.”
“What kind of situation?” Candace was scared. “Is Squirt okay?”
“Would you stop calling him that?” Mommy spat.
“Everyone calm down,” Dr. Bird said. Her voice fell an octave into a soothing tone. “Let’s go into my office.”
Candace gingerly lowered herself into the hard chair in Dr. Bird’s office. When everyone was settled, Dr. Bird said, “It seems that the uterine wall hasn’t developed as it should. The wall is quite thin—paper-thin in fact. The danger is that the baby could puncture the wall with a kick. That could lead to an infection, or worse.”
“Why? What caused this?” Mommy asked.
“This condition appears in fewer than one percent of pregnancies. Could be a hormonal imbalance, or the position of the uterus can sometimes cause low blood flow. There are medications we can try but the side effects are risky. The safest course of action is to put Candace on bed rest and hope for the best.”
“Bed rest? What does that mean?” Candace asked.
“You’ll need to stay in bed, flat on your back or your side, for the next two months—the rest of your term. No walking, no sitting up. We can’t have any pressure on the uterine wall. Only get up to use the bathroom and for monthly doctor visits. Nothing else. At this point, my dear, you are a human incubator. If you want this baby to be born, you need to lie still and let him grow.”
“Him? Squirt’s a boy?” Candace said excitedly.
“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you. It’s a boy.”
“Can I have a picture?”
Dr. Bird printed out a grainy black-and-white screen shot from her computer.
Candace clutched the photo. She could see Squirt’s head in profile and he appeared to be sucking his thumb. My baby! Bed rest won’t be so bad, she thought, on the drive home. No more stupid Harvard Extension classes. Maybe I will start a blog, or take up painting. Better yet, knitting. I could learn to knit! She was excited about the possibilities and was glad the hurting would stop. I will be the best incubator ever!
As soon as she got home, she logged onto Facebook.
Candy: I’m on bed rest for two months!
Jasmine: What does that mean?
Candy: I have to stay in bed. If I get up and walk around I might lose the baby.
Isabella: That sucks.
Thirteen
* * *
THAT NIGHT CANDACE AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF HER PARENTS ARGUING. SHE COULD TELL THEY WERE TRYING TO keep their voices low but the intensity resonated through the plaster walls. She couldn’t make out the words but they were short, emphatic statements, each one louder than the one before. Then Candace thought she heard a slap. Flesh on flesh violence, fuck! The last time they did this was when I got accepted into St. Paul’s. It was Daddy’s idea to send me to boarding school, hoping to improve my chances of getting into Princeton. But Mommy said they couldn’t afford it. They fought about it for months. I never wanted to go there—I didn’t want to leave my friends. But in the end, I was glad to get away from all
the fighting.
Candace felt sick.
In the morning, Sara brought Candace her breakfast tray.
“Where is Julia?”
Sara sat down on the bed. “Mommy sent her home. Too much dirty laundry being aired, she said.”
Candace bit into an English muffin. “Why, what’s going on down there?” she said with her mouth full.
“Sorry,” she said after she had swallowed. “What’s going on?”
“Daddy is moving out.”
“What? Why?” Candace started to cry.
Sara started to cry too. “Mommy says it’s your fault. Daddy wants you to get an abortion and he says Mommy is coddling you.”
“Coddling me?” Mommy has been nothing but abusive to me, Candace thought.
“Taking you to doctor appointments. He thinks she’s been encouraging you.”
“Encouraging me? Yeah, right!” Candace’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s clear that everyone wants Squirt dead. They want us to go away. But I love him. He’s my baby. And he loves me, I can tell. I can!”
“Mommy didn’t even cry,” Sara said, sobbing. “She just announced that her husband of twenty years was leaving and she didn’t shed a tear.”
“Where is Daddy going to live?” Candace asked.
“He’s staying at the Marriott in Coolidge Corner until he finds an apartment,” Sara said. “Can I lie down?”
Candace scooted over to make room and Sara lay down beside her and spooned her sister with her body. “Can I feel the baby?” Sara said.
Candace took Sara’s arm and wrapped it around her belly. Just then Squirt did a somersault and both of the girls shrieked and giggled. Then they lay there quietly for a while hoping for another kick.
“He didn’t even come up to say good-bye?” Candace asked, quietly whimpering.
“I don’t think he wants to see you,” Sara said in a whisper.
“Now they both hate me,” Candace said.
“When can you get out of bed?” Sara asked.
“At thirty-eight weeks. If Squirt can wait until thirty-eight weeks, he’ll be full-term and it will be safe to get up. One more month of hell.”
“Do you want me to bring you something to read?” Sara asked.
“No, I just want to go back to sleep and hope that when I wake up that this was all a bad dream.”
When Sara had left, Candace opened up her laptop.
Candy: My parents are getting a divorce because of me.
Shawna: My mom says my dad left because of me. She wants me to move out.
Luciana: Tomorrow will be better. The struggle you’re in today is developing the strength you need for tomorrow.
Candy: Where do you get these quotes?
Luciana: Quotesberry.com. Check it out.
There was a knock on the door. “Candace, are you awake?”
Candace moaned and rolled over.
Mommy knocked harder. “Candace, unlock this door!”
Candace opened the door and then fell back onto the bed, her back to Mommy.
“When was the last time you showered? It reeks in here.” Mommy opened a window. “Candace, I’ve had enough of this. You’ve destroyed our family and I think it’s time to put an end to this drama.”
“You can’t force me to have an abortion,” Candace said into her pillow.
“It’s too late for that, young lady. Now, your only option is adoption. I made an appointment with an agency that comes highly recommended. There are lots of loving couples out there who desperately want a child.”
“I’m not supposed to get out of bed,” Candace said.
“You are allowed to get up for your doctor appointments. I’m sure you can make it to this appointment.”
Candace moaned.
“Daddy’s not coming back unless you give up the baby,” Mommy said.
“Daddy is coming back?” Candace asked, craning her neck to look at Mommy.
“Only if you give up the baby. We want our family back; we want our life back. The way it used to be. You’ll start college next fall and we’ll all be able to put this behind us.”
Candace cradled her engorged belly and began to weep. What a horrible choice. Between her family and, well, her family. Her baby. I have to abandon my baby to salvage my parents’ marriage. What is this, Sophie’s Choice? That was too much to ask.
“Mommy, please?”
“Candace you’re worn out. You’re not thinking straight. Julia said you’ve stopped eating. You’re weak; you’re emotional. Remember what Dr. Bird said about carrying the baby to full-term would do to your emotions? Well, here we are. You’ve got to think logically about this. You’re not ready to be a mother, and God knows I’m not ready to be a grandmother!”
Candace was worn out. Bed rest felt like solitary confinement. Locked in her room for months on end with only Squirt and her Facebook friends for company. A food tray delivered to her cell three times a day. She had lost track of days and even whether it was day or night. She was sleeping twenty hours a day, comforting herself in the knowledge that she was being a good incubator. A human incubator for Squirt. After all this effort, she was supposed to sacrifice the baby?
“Mommy,” Candace rolled over and faced her mother defiantly. “This isn’t about you, and it’s not about Daddy. If Daddy left because he doesn’t want you to take care of me—well that’s just fucked up. Sorry, Mommy, but that’s just wrong.”
“Candace, don’t be impertinent. The appointment is at two. Get up and take a shower. I’ll send Julia up to help you.”
Julia poked her head inside the door a few minutes later and gasped. Candace had emptied her closet onto the floor and lay curled up in a ball on her bed.
“Candace, what is it?” Julia said.
“Mommy forgot one little detail,” Candace said morosely. “I have nothing to wear. Nothing fits! Am I supposed to go out there looking like a homeless person in a T-shirt and a bathrobe?”
“Oh, my!” Julia said. “That won’t do.” She hurried downstairs.
Candace heard Julia and Mommy arguing. Then she heard Julia’s heavy breathing as she mounted the stairs again.
“Okay,” Julia said, out of breath.
“Julia, sit down.”
Julia sat at Candace’s desk. “Okay,” she started again. “Your mother said to go to Amazon on your computer and order something pretty from the maternity store. She said Amazon has same-day delivery. Imagine that!”
“What about the two o’clock appointment?” Candace asked.
“She’s calling the agency to reschedule. I’ll clean up this mess while you take a shower.”
Candace logged onto Amazon and scrolled through maternity dresses, pants, tops, underwear, yoga outfits, and bathing suits. Suddenly, she was having fun. She put two pairs of skinny stretch pants and two pretty blouses into her shopping cart along with a fleece tracksuit, a bra and some panties and then tossed in a pink nightgown-robe combo to wear in the hospital. She clicked on same-day delivery and checked her email for the confirmation. Ping! Her package would arrive by three p.m.
Candace stood in the shower for a long time, lathering her hair three times to remove two weeks worth of accumulated grease. When she was clean she filled up the tub and soaked in the hot water. She shaved her legs for the first time in months. Candace was in heaven. She wrapped herself in a giant towel and waddled back to her room. Julia had picked up all the clothes and made the bed with fresh sheets. The window was cracked open and the air in the room was cold and refreshing.
Candace looked quite fetching in her new clothes, her hair golden and shiny. Tears sprang to Mommy’s eyes. “My goodness, Candace, you look lovely—like a ripe melon. I should have thought of this earlier. You’ll make a great impression at the agency. Your baby should be in high demand.”
Candace bit her lip and didn’t take the bait. She was just happy to have new clothes and underwear that fit.
Fourteen
* * *
IN THE LO
BBY OF THE BOSTON ADOPTION AGENCY, THE walls were lined with photos of happy couples holding babies—older couples, gay couples. Candace wondered why there were no photos of young couples. Candace caressed her belly and tried to imagine the people in the photos taking Squirt home from the hospital. “I won’t let them take you,” she whispered.
They were ushered into an office. The plate on the door read, Madeleine Schlosser, LICSW. A heavyset older woman in a wrinkled maroon pantsuit approached them with her hand extended. Her hair looked like she had just rolled out of bed and she wore no makeup. “Mrs. Parker?” she said to Mommy. “We spoke on the phone.”
Mommy shook her hand and gestured toward Candace. “This is my daughter, Candace.”
“Have a seat, you two,” Madeleine said.
Madeleine leaned forward, her elbows on the desk, hands folded under her chin as if she were about to say a prayer. “So you want to give your baby up for adoption?”
Candace started to say, “No,” but Mommy interrupted.
“Yes.”
“Candace, doll, do you know who the father is?” Madeleine asked.
“Yes,” Candace replied.
“Do you know where he is?” Madeleine asked.
Mommy started to say, “No,” but this time Candace interrupted.
“Yes,” Candace said.
“You do?” Mommy asked, surprised. “I thought he went back to Europe.”
“Europe?” Madeleine said. “Oh, this could get complicated. Where is he?”
“He’s a freshman at Boston College,” Candace said.
“What?” Mommy shrieked. “Have you been in touch with him?”
“Not really,” Candace said. “I ran into him at Target a few months ago. He doesn’t even know about Squirt.”
“Squirt?” Madeleine asked.
“Oh, good God,” Mommy said. “That’s her pet name for the baby. Ridiculous!”
