“Good, and you’re leaving again this afternoon. Going to Bora Bora.”
“Yeah, just for a night.”
“You may want to consider extending your trip,” she says. “Flying so often isn’t ideal.”
“Oh.” Robert would love that. I’d planned on bailing as soon as possible—avoiding any attempts at matrimonial bliss he might be planning. “I’m just trying to…” My voice fades as I realize I’m talking out loud. Dr. Guilder raises her brows in question. I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She turns to more fully face me. “This is totally confidential,” she says. “If you need to talk, I’m here to listen.”
“Marriage problems,” I say. Trying to sum up my issues with Robert in such a relatable package is like trying to convince people Blue is half Chihuahua—wrong, dumb, and fruitless.
“Pregnancy can complicate relationships,” Dr. Guilder says, putting it mildly.
“Yeah,” I cough a laugh. “Ours was complicated to begin with, but I know what you mean.” An image of Robert’s face—the awe in his gaze—when he felt my son move, his warm palm splayed over my stomach, fills my mind’s eye. I blink it away. That is not going to help me keep him at arm’s length in Bora freaking Bora.
“Are the issues in your relationship causing a lot of stress?” she asks, her voice gentle. Dr. Guilder sounds like she cares. She doesn’t even know me. My eyes sting again. Fucking pregnancy hormones. Jeez freaking Louise!
“Yeah, it’s a little stressful” I say. “But not as much as other things.” Like my insatiable and unclear urge to burn down society.
Dr. Guilder spins her stool so that she is fully facing me. “I’m sure you know this, and it’s almost obnoxious to say, but it’s important during pregnancy to control your stress levels.” She holds up a hand as if to ward off any arguments I might make. “I know, telling people not to stress is like telling a geyser not to blow. But I have to remind you that this is a short period in your life. Your son will be here in a little over three months.” Three months! My vision fuzzes a little at that truth bomb. “Any ways you can find to relax during this time will make everything easier during and after your birth. Get massages, take naps, be kind to your body.”
“Three months?” I question, immediately regretting letting the words out.
She nods sympathetically, seeming to recognize my total lack of preparation for motherhood.
“Everyone I love dies,” I say, jumping on those tracks and riding with such gusto I can’t keep the words inside my brain.
Her brow pulls together and she blinks. “What?”
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “That’s not totally true. I mean, the father is still alive. And a lot of my friends are.” I’m blabbering but can’t seem to stop. “But my brother—”
My voice chokes off before I can begin listing others and Blue lifts his head. I look down at him and he scoots even closer before tilting his head to rest it more fully on my thigh. I pet him, running my hand slowly from the top of his head down his neck. A tear slips free and I swipe at it quickly—as if wiping it away will take some of the emotion with it. “Pregnancy hormones,” I say, trying to explain the pain away.
Dr. Guilder doesn’t speak for so long that I finally look up. Her eyes are warm and comforting. “It’s okay to cry,” she says, which makes my throat close. “Becoming a mother is scary and new. It’s exciting too, though. Fear about the health of your child is completely normal. Especially when you live such a dangerous life. When you fight so hard for others, it is easy to forget to take care of yourself. But you must…” She pauses for a second, her eyes running over my face.
“You know how on airplanes they always say to put on your own oxygen mask first, then help others?”
I nod.
“Motherhood is kind of like that. If you don’t take proper care of yourself, then where will your kid be?” I cough a laugh, surprised by it. “Learning to take care of yourself during pregnancy is really good preparation for motherhood.”
Swiping at another tear, I nod. “Thank you,” I say. “I hear you…I’m just not used to being physically vulnerable.”
“I understand. You’ve just finished the second trimester, it’s got all the good hormones, you have energy, you’re not sick anymore.” I nod. “The third can be rougher, you’ll be more tired. It’s your body telling you to slow down. It won’t let you not take care of yourself. Nature has a way of forcing us into things.”
“Great,” I say with a laugh. “I’m not very good at being forced into stuff.”
Dr. Guilder laughs too. “So maybe,” she says with a shrug, “get on board with mother nature. I’m guessing you have not thought much about maternity leave.” I shake my head. “You’ll need time to connect with your baby and to heal.”
“How long is normal?” I ask.
“Depends on where you are. In Sweden, where I am from, couples have 480 days of paid maternity leave to split between them. And we must be home all together for the first ten days—it is considered vital for familial bonding.”
I blink at her, quickly doing math in my head…which never goes well. “What?” I finally say.
She laughs. “In America, there is no government-required paid leave, though disability will cover a percentage of salary for eight weeks. Many employers offer weeks and even months of paid leave. So as you can see there are very different ways it can be done.”
“What do you suggest?” I ask.
“When we had our daughter, my husband and I split the time. We both took off six months—it was just the three of us together for that time. It was magical. I cherish it.”
“It sounds really nice…” I say, my mind conjuring images of Mulberry and me walking with a stroller, not worrying about anything but taking care of each other and our little boy. It doesn’t seem possible.
“I lost them a year later,” Dr. Guilder goes on. “In a terrorist attack.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Thank you.” She bows her head. “I tell you this because I want you to understand why that time is so important to me. I do not know if your husband’s schedule is flexible, but for all of you to be together, it is very special. And you will never regret it.”
“My husband is not the father,” I say. “Like I said, it’s complicated…”
Her eyes widen. “Oh,” she says, but recovers quickly. “Is the father still in your life?”
“Yes,” I nod. “And he wants this baby very badly.”
“That is good. Is his work flexible?”
“Yes, and I can take off as much time as I want,” I say, realizing it for the first time. Recognizing the privilege I have to decide what to do with my time. Everything in my life always feels so urgent, I spend my existence walking a fine line between life and death. But I could just stay here…on this island. Be safe and secure with my baby and Mulberry. Except every time I attempt something like that someone tries to kill me.
