labor
tender_square i was pregnant and about to give birth but the doctors had drugged me so that i would fall asleep during labor and i was trying to fight the effects of the medication. i got up and waddled around and told someone that i was a surrogate for my sister—which sister it was, wasn’t clear—and i was thinking about school and a presentation i had to do and whether i would get docked marks for being there or not. i mean, if i wasn’t keeping the baby, wouldn’t i technically be expected to be back in the classroom right away, say a day or so after giving birth?

i sat at a dinner table, alone, looking out a sliding glass door into a yard. i wanted to ask my husband to join me because i didn’t think that it was fair or kind that i should have to eat by myself in that condition. when i looked across the table after no longer looking beyond to the outdoors, i saw that my husband was indeed dining in front of me and i was disappointed.

eating with him was like eating alone.

i said, “i’m going to have a baby.”

he said, “i know.”

it was as though my statement carried zero weight with him, that he couldn’t recognize or register what was about to change the trajectory for my body and my soul forever.
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