Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(31)

Charlie jumps in before I’m able to respond. “I checked with my machine.” He holds up his stethoscope. “The baby is a boy.”

In response to that, Ava throws herself back on the floor with a sob.

I help her back up, once again, to a sitting position, and rack my brain for a solution to the problem at hand.

“Charlie.” I turn to face him. “Did you know that what you’re doing is called an ultrasound? That’s what it’s called when you use your machine to take a picture of Ava’s baby.”

“I knew that,” Max says. His pillow is dangerously close to falling out of the bottom of his shirt.

“Well, here’s the thing about ultrasounds.” I lower my voice so they get the impression I’m letting them in on a secret. They take the bait and lean closer to me. “They usually do a pretty good job of telling you if your baby is going to be a boy or a girl, but not always. Sometimes it can be really hard to read the ultrasound, and the doctor might make a mistake. I know a mom who thought she was having a girl from her ultrasound, but she actually ended up being surprised with a baby boy. So, Ava, you might not know what kind of baby you’re having until it comes out.”

She looks somewhat satisfied, but Charlie starts back up again. “But my machine is never wrong.”

I shrug. “Well, we’ll have to wait and see what happens.”

Ava goes back to rubbing her belly as if she didn’t just experience a moderate exorcism, while Charlie and Max get back to their doctor’s appointment. I back away slowly, terrified that one wrong move could destroy the order that was recently restored to the pretend play area. I exhale once I get to the other side of the room, relieved that the situation seems to be under control before Finn and his class arrive. But my wishful thinking is just that, because the very second that Finn knocks on the door with his fourth graders in tow, an earth-shattering scream welcomes them to pre-K.



* * *



—

“She was going into labor.” Cheryl debriefs me and Finn on the conversation she had with Ava in the hallway. “I told her she can pretend she’s having a baby all she wants, unless something she does might scare or upset one of her friends or teachers, so the screaming and pushing will have to wait until she gets home.”

I think of Ava’s mom’s concerns and wonder how she’ll handle all of this on the home front. I don’t envy her.

I nod. “That sounds more than fair.”

While Cheryl and Ava went over appropriate versus inappropriate times to role-play giving birth, I welcomed Finn and his class to pre-K, and gave them a quick lay of the land. Most of the fourth graders were quick to join the pretend play area, where, much to Finn’s confusion, they are currently lying on the floor receiving ultrasounds from Charlie.

Behind them I see Harry, our youngest, swiftly remove his hands from his pants, pick up a block, and put it in his mouth.

Finn must have seen the same thing. “This hardly seems like a sterile enough place to give birth, anyway,” he says with a smirk, and I giggle.

He’s funny.

I follow Finn’s curious gaze as he watches the pregnant kids in the pretend play area.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the kids they can’t be pregnant at all if it’s causing problems?” he asks.

Cheryl gives me a wink and walks over to the reading nook, pretending to be busy by arranging the books.

“That definitely would be easier,” I agree. “But kids learn and make sense of things through play, and Ava has a new baby at home, so she probably has a lot to process.”

Finn nods, and, while raising a toned arm to push back his hair, looks at me with an intensity that makes me squirm. “I wish you had been my teacher.”

I look down at my feet reflexively. Having been distracted by Finn’s charm, I’m surprised to see one of the kids, Danny, reaching up to tug on my pant leg.

“Teacher Phoebe?” he asks, looking up at me inquisitively.

I crouch down so we’re face-to-face, and Finn joins me. He leans in to show Danny that he’s listening. A natural instinct of a good teacher, I think. The three of us form a huddle that’s so tight, Finn’s and my arms smoosh together. His skin is soft and warm. I keep very still.

Danny, with his bright eyes and missing front tooth, looks at both of us as he asks, “Ava said that her dad put a baby in her mom’s belly. How did he do that?”

I hear Finn suck in a breath next to me, and from the corner of my eye, I can see him biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh. I turn toward him and smile, grateful for his sense of humor. I’ve gotten so used to this question over the years that my answer is practically scripted. “That’s a good question, Danny,” I tell him. “That is something that your mom or dad will probably want to answer, so you can ask them when you see them.”

I’ll have to send the email out later today—the one that alerts parents that their kids have become curious about where babies come from, with some resources attached on how to best have that conversation with young children.

Danny looks at Finn expectantly, seemingly unsatisfied with my answer.

“What she said,” Finn tells him, and he gives my shoulder a gentle pat.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Danny (or me), and he points his little finger at Finn and asks, “Are you going to put a baby inside Teacher Phoebe?”