โYour life is about to change.โ โExcuse me?โ
โYour life. Itโs about to change.โ A woman just ahead of Elizabeth in line at the bank had turned to point at Elizabethโs stomach. Her face was grim.
โChange?โ Elizabeth said innocently as she cast her eye down upon her round form as if noticing it for the first time. โWhatever do you mean?โ
It was the seventh time that week someone felt compelled to inform her that her life was about to change and she was sick of it. Sheโd lost her job, her research, bladder control, a clear view of her toes, restful sleep, normal skin, a pain-free back, not to mention all the little assorted freedoms everyone else who is not pregnant takes for grantedโlike being able to fit behind a steering wheel. The only thing sheโd gained? Weight.
โIโve been meaning to get this checked,โ she said, laying a hand on her stomach. โWhat do you think it could be? Not a tumor, I hope.โ
For a split second, the womanโs eyes widened in shock, then instantly narrowed. โNo one likes a smart-aleck, missy,โ she gruffed.
โYou think youโre tired now,โ a wiry-haired woman commented an hour later as Elizabeth yawned in a grocery store checkout line, shaking her head as if Elizabeth were already showing signs of personal weakness. โJust you wait.โ Then she launched into a dramatic description of the terrible twos, the tiresome threes, the filthy fours, and the fearsome fives, barely taking a breath before piling into the angsty adolescents, the pimply pubescents, and
especially, especially, oh lord, the troubled teens, noting always that boys were harder than girls, or girls were harder than boys, and on and on and on until her groceries were bagged and loaded and she was forced to get back into her faux-wood-paneled station wagon and return home to her own personal set of ingrates.
โYouโre carrying high,โ the man at the gas station observed. โDefinitely a boy.โ
โYouโre carrying high,โ the librarian commented. โDefinitely a girl.โ
โGod has given you a gift,โ said a priest whoโd noticed Elizabeth standing alone in front of an odd gravestone at the cemetery later that same week. โGlory be to God!โ
โIt wasnโt God,โ Elizabeth said, pointing at a new tombstone. โIt was Calvin.โ
She waited until he walked away, then bent down and ran her finger over the complex engraving.
Calvin Evans 1927โ1955
โTo make up for what happened,โ cemetery management had told her, โweโll not only provide a new tombstone, weโll also make sure it includes
the whole quote this time.โ But Elizabeth had decided against a second round with Marcus Aurelius, opting instead for a chemical response that resulted in happiness. No one else recognized it, but after what sheโd been through, no one questioned it either.
โIโm finally going to see someone about this, Calvin,โ she said, pointing to her bump. โDr. Mason, the rower, the one who let me row in the menโs eight. Remember?โ She stared at the inscription as if awaiting a reply.
โ
Twenty-five minutes later, as she pressed a button in a narrow elevator, her only companion a fat man in a straw hat, she braced herself for more unsolicited advice. And sure enough, he reached out his hand and placed it on her belly as if she were a hands-on exhibit at the Natural History Museum. โI bet eating for two is fun,โ he admonished, patting her, โbut remember: one of them is just a baby!โ
โRemove your hand,โ she said, โor live to regret it.โ
โBada bada bada!โ he sang, thumping her stomach like a bongo drum.
โBada badaย boom,โ she rejoined, swinging her handbag directly into his crotch, the impact of which was compounded by a heavy stone mortar sheโd picked up earlier that day from Chemical Supply. The man gasped, then doubled over in pain. The doors slid open.
โHave a bad day,โ she said. She stomped down the hallway, encountering a seven-foot-tall stork wearing bifocals and a baseball hat. In its beak hung two bundles: one pink, one blue.
โElizabeth Zott,โ she said, moving past the stork to the receptionist. โFor Dr. Mason.โ
โYouโre late,โ the receptionist said icily.
โIโm five minutes early,โ Elizabeth corrected, checking her watch.
โThereโs paperwork,โ the woman informed her, handing over a clipboard. Husbandโs place of work. Husbandโs telephone number. Husbandโs insurance. Husbandโs age. Husbandโs bank account number.
โWhoโs having the baby here?โ she asked.
โRoom five,โ the receptionist said. โDown the hallway, second door on the left. Disrobe. Put on the gown. Finish the paperwork.โ
โRoom five,โ Elizabeth repeated, clipboard in hand. โJust one question: Why the stork?โ
โExcuse me?โ
โYour stork. Why, in an obstetricianโs office? Itโs almost as if youโre promoting the competition.โ
โItโs meant to be charming,โ the receptionist said. โRoom five.โ
โAnd since every patient of yours is one hundred percent aware that a stork isnโt going to spare them the pain of labor,โ she continued, โwhy perpetuate the myth at all?โ
โDr. Mason,โ the receptionist said, as a man in a white coat approached. โThis is your four oโclock. Sheโs late. I tried to send her to room five.โ
โNot late,โ Elizabeth Zott corrected. โOn time.โ She turned to the doctor. โDr. Mason, you probably donโt remember meโโ
โCalvin Evansโs wife,โ he said, drawing back in surprise. โOr no, I apologize,โ he said, dropping his voice, โhis widow.โ Then he paused, as if trying to decide what to say next. โIโm so very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Evans,โ he said, covering her hands with his and giving them a few shakes as if mixing a small cocktail. โYour husband was a good man. A good man and a good rower.โ
โItโs Elizabeth Zott,โ Elizabeth said. โCalvin and I werenโt married.โ She paused, awaiting the receptionistโs tsk and Masonโs dismissal, but instead the doctor clicked a pen and tapped it into his breast pocket, then took her by the elbow and led her down the hallway. โYou and Evans rowed in my eight a few timesโdo you remember? About seven months ago. Good rows, too. But then you never came back. Why was that?โ
She looked at him, surprised.
โOh, forgive me,โ Dr. Mason said in a rush. โIโm so sorry. Of course. Evans. Evans died. I apologize.โ Shaking his head in embarrassment, he pushed open the door to room 5. โPlease. Come in.โ He pointed to a chair. โAnd are you still rowing? No, what am I saying, of course not, not in your
condition.โ He took her hands and turned them over. โBut this is unusual. You still have the calluses.โ
โIโm erging.โ โGood god.โ
โIs that bad? Calvin built an erg.โ
โWhy?โ
โHe just did. Itโs all right, isnโt it?โ
โWell, yes,โ he said, โcertainly. Itโs just that Iโve never heard of anyone erging on purpose. Especially not a pregnant woman. Although now that I think about it, erging is good preparation for childbirth. In terms of suffering, I mean. Actually, both pain and suffering.โ But then he realized pain and suffering had probably been a constant in her life since Evans died and he turned away to hide his latest gaffe. โShall we take a quick look under the hood?โ he said gently, gesturing to the table. Then he closed the door and waited behind a screen while she put on a dressing gown.
โ
The examination was quick but thorough, punctuated with inquiries about heartburn and bloating. Was sleep difficult? Did the baby move at certain times? If so, for how long? And finally the big question: Why had she waited so long to come in? She was well into her last trimester.
โWork,โ she told him. But that was a lie. The real reason was because sheโd quietly hoped the pregnancy would take care of itself. End as these things sometimes do. In the 1950s, abortion was out of the question. Coincidentally, so was having a baby out of wedlock.
โYouโre also a scientist, is that right?โ he asked from the other end of her body.
โYes.โ
โAnd Hastings kept you on. They must be more progressive than I thought.โ
โThey didnโt,โ she said. โIโm freelancing.โ
โA freelance scientist. Iโve never heard of such a thing. How does that work?โ
She sighed. โNot very well.โ
Registering the tone in her voice, he finished up quickly, tapping her belly here and there as if she were a cantaloupe.
โEverything looks shipshape,โ he said as he stripped off his gloves. And when she didnโt smile or say anything in return, he said in a low voice, โFor the baby at least. Iโm sure this has been enormously difficult for you.โ
It was the first time someone had acknowledged her situation, and the shock of it caught in her throat. She felt a cache of tears threatening escape just behind her eyes.
โIโm sorry,โ he said gently, studying her face the way a meteorologist might watch a storm develop. โPlease know you can talk to me. Rower to rower. Itโs all confidential.โ
She looked away. She didnโt really know him. Worse, she wasnโt sure, despite his assurances, that her feelings were allowable. Sheโd come to believe she was the only woman on earth whoโd planned to remain childless. โIf Iโm being perfectly honest,โ she finally said, her voice heavy with guilt, โI donโt think I can do this. I was not planning on being a mother.โ
โNot every woman wants to be a mother,โ he agreed, surprising her. โMore to the point, not every woman should be.โ He grimaced as if thinking of someone in particular. โStill, Iโm surprised by how many women sign up for motherhood considering how difficult pregnancy can be
โmorning sickness, stretch marks, death. Again, youโre fine,โ he added quickly, taking in her horrified face. โItโs just that we tend to treat pregnancy as the most common condition in the worldโas ordinary as stubbing a toeโwhen the truth is, itโs like getting hit by a truck. Although obviously a truck causes less damage.โ He cleared his throat, then made a note in her file. โWhat I mean to say is, the exercise is helping. Although Iโm not sure how you erg properly at this stage. Pulling into the sternum would be problematic. What aboutย The Jack LaLanne Show? Ever watch him?โ
At the mention of Jack LaLanneโs name, Elizabethโs face fell. โNot a fan,โ he said. โNo problem. Just the erg, then.โ
โI only kept on with it,โ she offered in a low voice, โbecause it exhausts me to the point where I can sometimes sleep. But also because I thought it might, wellโโ
โI understand,โ he said, cutting her off and looking both ways as if making sure no one else could hear. โLook, Iโm not one of those people who believe a woman should have toโโ He stopped abruptly. โNor do I believe thatโโ He stopped again. โA single womanโฆa widowโฆitโsโฆ Never mind,โ he said as he reached for her file. โBut the truth is, that erg probably made you stronger; made the baby stronger for that matter. More blood to the brain, better circulation. Have you noticed it has a calming effect on the baby? Probably all that back and forth.โ
She shrugged.
โHow far are you erging?โ โTen thousand meters.โย โEvery day?โ
โSometimes more.โ
โMother of god,โ he whistled. โIโve always thought pregnant women developed an extra capacity for suffering, but ten thousand meters? Sometimesย more? Thatโsโthatโsโactually, I donโt know what that is.โ He looked at her with concern. โDo you have someone to lean on? A friend or relativeโyour motherโsomeone like that? Infants are hard work.โ
She hesitated. It was embarrassing to admit that she had no one. Sheโd only gone to see Dr. Mason because Calvin had always insisted rowers enjoyed some sort of special bond.
โAnyone?โ he repeated. โI have a dog.โ
โI like it,โ Mason said. โA dog can be tremendously helpful. Protective, empathetic, intelligent. What kind of dogโhe, she?โ
โHeโโ
โWait, I think I remember your dog. Three Oโclock, something like that? Ugly as sin?โ
โHeโsโโ
โA dog and an erg,โ he said, making a note in her file. โOkay.
Excellent.โ
He clicked his pen again, then set her file aside. โNow, as soon as youโre ableโletโs say in a yearโ I want to see you back at the boathouse. My boatโs been looking for the right two seat and something tells me youโre it. Youโll have to arrange for a sitter, though. No babies in the boat. We have plenty of those as it is.โ
Elizabeth reached for her jacket. โThatโs very kind, Dr. Mason,โ she said, assuming he was only trying to be nice, โbut according to you Iโm about to get hit by a truck.โ
โAn accident from which youโll recover,โ he corrected. โLook, I have an impeccable memory when it comes to rows, and I very much remember ours. They were good. Very good.โ
โBecause of Calvin.โ
Dr. Mason looked surprised. โNo, Miss Zott. Not just because of Evans. It takes all eight to row well.ย Allย eight. Anyway, back to the business at hand. Iโm starting to feel a bit better about your situation. I know youโve been through quite a shock with Evansโs passing, and then this,โ he added, pointing to her belly. โBut things will be fine. Maybe even better than fine. A dog, an erg, two seat. Excellent.โ
Then he took both of her hands in his and gave them a cheerful squeeze, and although his words hadnโt made complete sense, compared to everything else sheโd heard up to that point, they were the first that finally made some.