“I’ll take—” Mom starts to say as Angelina says, “I can hide—”
“Give it to me,” I tell Jackie. “Aunt Angelina, you’re not as good at hiding things as you think, and, Mom, we all know you would open it. I’m surprised you looked away when Jackie said to.”
“Angelina made me cover my eyes,” Mom grumbles.
“You mean I covered your eyes for you, Claire,” she says, but it’s their normal banter. The differences in their temperament have always been the linchpin of their friendship.
“So far, everything looks good. The baby has genitals that will remain TBA for now. But don’t be surprised when your doctor adjusts your due date after looking at my measurements,” Jackie adds, “probably a few days later than the previous estimation.”
Panic starts to creep in me.
“But I know, um, very specifically the exact, uh, date of the event of this baby’s conception. So if the baby looks too small—”
She turns to face me. “The baby isn’t too small. The baby is a fine size. But actual conception can take place a few minutes after the event, as you called it, or several days later. Based on the size of your baby, I’d say that conception happened more than two days after your event.”
“Oh,” I say. There’s a stillness in the room as I hear The Mothers take in this information with me.
“The next ten minutes might be pretty boring,” Jackie says. “I’m going to be going through your baby’s abdomen and making sure all the organs are there and growing nicely. It won’t look like much on the screen.”
“Okay.” I’m already gazing out and away, thinking about the time of conception being so different than I thought.
I had thought that this baby was what remained of our love story, but that isn’t the case at all. There was a bit of Finny still in me when he died, and it wasn’t until after he was gone, sometime as I was weeping and screaming, some moment when my soul was crying out for his, that Finny’s child started to form within me.
This baby isn’t what’s left over from our love story. This baby is our story’s continuation.
I feel that flutter within me and look back at the screen to see if I see movement, but what I see is a heart.
I’m surprised that I can recognize it, and perhaps I’m wrong, but it looks like the shape of a human heart in that way that isn’t much like the valentine. I turn my head to Jackie to tell her I can recognize this one when I see her slight frown.
It’s not a big frown. She isn’t hugely distressed, but it’s a frown of concentration, the sort a mechanic makes when someone is describing the sound an engine is making.
Behind me, I hear The Mothers discussing whether not knowing the gender means Mom gets to buy from the more expensive stores.
“They have better options in neutral,” she says.
“Is everything all right?” I ask Jackie, loud enough to be certain that The Mothers can hear. They fall silent.
“Yes,” Jackie says, still with her frown. “But I’m going to need to take extra pictures of your baby’s heart, and she’s moving around. I think that candy you were eating is hitting her now—”
“Why do you need to take extra pictures of the heart?” I ask.
Jackie stares at the machine before looking over at me. She opens her mouth.
“Did you say ‘she’？” Mom asks.
Jackie’s eyes widen as she glances from Mom to me.
“It’s okay,” I say. “You can answer both questions. Mine first though.”
“Your doctor has to be the one to explain it to you,” Jackie says. “I’m not qualified to go into the specifics with you, but I can tell you that she is probably going to be fine. And yes, it’s a girl. And she’s absolutely perfect, except for one little thing that will probably be just fine. Okay, Autumn?”
“Okay,” I say and nod to prove I’m all right, that she can get back to taking the pictures she needs to.
“Mom, Aunt An—” I start to say, but they’re already by my side. Mom takes my hand, and Angelina puts her hand on my shoulder, and we cry a bit and smile together some, because Finny and I are having a daughter, and she’s probably going to be fine.
Probably.
fifteen
Finny would have loved this view. Perhaps calling it a view is a bit much. It’s just the street we grew up on, but the sunlight makes it look vibrant in a way that isn’t guaranteed every year, and this year, Finny isn’t here to see it.