Ava, page 19
“No, not the baby . . . the incubator. You should name it Maxine.”
“Agreed.” Spencer nodded. “That’s perfect.”
“Is there some significance to the name?” Graham asked.
“Yes. It was a nurse I met a long time ago. I made a promise to her just before I met Ava’s dad. I think she would be very happy right now.”
* * *
When Ava and Graham told Dr. Davis their news, he asked if they would be willing to document their journey. They agreed with the understanding that their identities would be protected. He then contacted Nicole Darcy, the journalist who had interviewed him over a decade earlier when his conference presentation had made worldwide news. She had kept in contact after the interview and was especially interested in his work because of her traumatic experience with an ectopic pregnancy. He told her she would be the only reporter allowed access, and he also told her she wouldn’t be allowed to broadcast any names or faces. Jameson, who’d graduated from college with a degree in filmmaking, would be the videographer. Knowing what an extraordinary opportunity this was, the reporter readily agreed to his terms.
Nicole flew from New York to Tennessee two weeks later to meet with Ava and Graham at their home. Spencer greeted her at the door and took her back to the bedroom where Ava, Graham, Larkin, Aubrey, and Jameson waited with Dr. Davis. Dr. Davis extended his trembling hand to Nicole, and as she took it, she gently steadied it in her grasp. He introduced her to everyone in the group. Ava then showed her their egg, safely housed in the incubator, slowly turning and quickly captivating anyone who witnessed the phenomenon.
“This is truly incredible,” Nicole said. “I’ll be honest with you all. When I interviewed Dr. Davis, I had my doubts this was even a possibility.” She paused and turned to Jameson. “I won’t be able to come here as often as I’d like. My producer only knows that I have a project I’m working on that I can’t discuss. Thankfully, he trusts me. I appreciate your help. This is an important story that needs to be told. I’ll be in frequent communication with you, Ava, and Graham.”
“Whatever you need,” Jameson replied. “I think today will be a really good start.”
Graham removed the egg from the incubator and gently placed it on the bed, cushioned by the thick comforter. He turned on a large camping lantern as Larkin closed the window blinds and Spencer shut the door. Ava anxiously sat on the bed beside the egg while Jameson filmed; Nicole would add the narration later. When the room was dark, Spencer lifted the egg and held the larger end at a slant over the lantern Graham held to illuminate the egg’s contents. Larkin quietly prayed that there would not be a blood ring, as she had seen with Susan so many times in the lab.
They were able to see the yolk floating in the middle, anchored on either end by the chalaza (the membrane that attaches the yolk to the shell). In the center of the yolk was the dark spot that would grow into a baby with blood vessels extending from it like delicate red tendrils. Larkin closed her eyes—she was both relieved and overjoyed. As Jameson filmed, Aubrey explained what they were seeing to the future audience. When the brief candling was over, Graham returned the egg to its warm, safe environment.
The group gathered in the living room to discuss the plan for monitoring developmental changes and the growing embryo’s health. They’d document everything in detail to help the women and obstetricians who would need guidance in the future. They figured they had about ten more years until other women began laying their own eggs.
Nicole spent the rest of the day with them discussing how this all came to be. They talked about Dr. Davis’s mother and his many years of research, Maeve’s death, the restrictive changes to abortion and contraception laws, Larkin volunteering, Aubrey’s assistance, Ava’s first egg, and how all these things had culminated in the life developing in the other room. After many hours of conversation, Nicole returned to New York to begin writing.
As Graham worked nights and Ava worked days, someone would always be home with the egg. Although the incubator had never failed in the lab and they didn’t need to be so vigilant, it gave them peace of mind to be there. Spencer wired the incubator with alarms that would ring if the temperature or humidity faltered, and they had a backup generator in case of a power failure.
When their baby had incubated for about eight weeks, Graham and Ava told his parents they were expecting. They would wait until closer to the delivery date to let them know the unconventional way they were expecting. They told his parents they were planning a home delivery, which was very true, but they also told them they would be using a midwife when it would really be Aubrey. His parents questioned Ava and Graham’s decision—they couldn’t understand delivering the baby outside the safety of a hospital—but the expecting couple decided it was best not to explain anything to them until closer to the delivery.
Ava would wear a false silicone belly throughout the “pregnancy.” She started telling her coworkers at the elementary school, and they were joyful about the news. She was due toward the end of April, and she learned Emery was expecting her second child around the same time. Emery’s first child was just a few months old, so the other teachers gently teased her about having “Irish twins.”
During recess one day, Ava sat on a blue metal bench on the playground as she watched several of her students dangle from the monkey bars and play on the swings. Emery took a seat beside her and congratulated her as she watched her fifth graders play tag.
“Congratulations to you, too, Emery. I hear our due dates are just a few weeks apart.”
“Yes. I didn’t expect it to happen again so fast, but we’re thankful. I think the staff is planning to have a combined baby shower for both of us. Would that be okay with you?”
“Yes, of course. I’m very happy for you.”
“Thanks, Ava. I’m happy for you, too. Have you been feeling well? The morning sickness has really hit me hard this time. I’ve heard that means I’m going to have a girl.”
“So far, so good,” Ava replied.
“Lucky you! You must be having a boy.”
“I’ve heard that before. Maybe so,” Ava replied as she turned away from Emery and focused on the playground.
As they sat side by side watching the children play, Ava blurted out a question. “Hey, Emery . . . I’ve noticed that a few of the girls in the fifth-grade class have been wearing sunglasses whenever they play outside this year. Do you know why?”
“Well . . . they all have notes from their parents that they have some sort of ‘medical condition’ making them sensitive to the sun, but, of course, they don’t have to tell us legally what that is. But I know. I’m not stupid. I’m sure they’re victims of their parents’ hysteria and they got involved in that Hen Party cult we heard about when we were teenagers. I feel so sorry for them and what their future holds if it’s what I think it is.”
Ava turned to ask why she felt sorry for them, but just then, Emery quickly excused herself to go to the restroom—she said she was feeling nauseous.
Alone on the bench, Ava continued watching the girls in their sunglasses playing carefree in the sun. She was happy for them—and excited to not be alone anymore.
CHAPTER 33
During the sixteenth week of incubation, Nicole returned to gather with the family again and check on the egg’s progress. Graham and Spencer used a fine drill to cut a small section just large enough for an ultrasound probe into the top of the egg. They had practiced the technique on chicken eggs no fewer than a hundred times to make sure they could do it without harming the egg, leaving the two inner protein membranes intact. They then covered the opening with sterile transparent medical dressing so Aubrey could perform routine monitoring.
“Will doing that help the baby breathe better as well?” Nicole asked as she watched and Jameson recorded. She had returned to witness the first ultrasound and realized how little she knew about how a baby would live and grow within an egg. She had been consumed with writing about how the events of the last several decades had led up to this day but hadn’t yet researched how an egg “works.”
“The shell is very porous, so air can pass through,” Spencer replied. “And the outermost coating, which is called the bloom or cuticle, helps keep bacteria out, so that’s why we covered the opening we made with Tegaderm—it prevents germs from entering.”
“And the yolk provides all the nourishment?”
“Yes, most of it,” Larkin said. “It contains fat, protein, vitamins, and minerals for the growing embryo. When the yolk is completely absorbed, then it’s time to hatch.”
“And what happens to the egg white?”
“The white portion is the albumen. It’s mostly water with some proteins. It also is a source of nourishment and gets absorbed with growth,” Larkin said.
“And what if Ava wants to breastfeed the baby?”
“She can use a hormone regimen that induces lactation. Women who adopt infants have successfully breastfed with this method, and Ava would like to do that,” Aubrey explained.
Nicole realized she would need to do significant research before completing the documentary. Between Spencer and Larkin’s experience with raising chickens and Larkin’s years of working with avian embryology, the couple would prove to be a great source of information.
“Well, the heart rate is perfect,” Aubrey assured Ava and Graham. “It’s steady around 140.”
Aubrey kept an external cardiac monitor on the egg to amplify the sound of the heartbeat, the same kind used to monitor chickens, but this was the first time they would be able to see inside the egg. Aubrey had brought her portable ultrasound machine to the house. She connected it to a smart tablet so everyone could see the images on her screen.
“Isn’t Dr. Davis joining us?” Nicole asked.
“No, Dad’s been slowing down more lately,” Jameson said. “He decided to stay home today, but I’ll show him what I recorded later. He’s incredibly disappointed to be missing this.”
Graham placed the egg on the bed for Aubrey.
“Okay . . . if everybody is ready, let’s take a look,” Aubrey said. She sat on the bed and positioned the transducer on the Tegaderm. As the images appeared on her screen, she said she was astounded by the clarity and thanked Spencer and Graham for their handiwork. She pointed out the fetus’s perfect anatomical development and said the measurements were reassuring—they suggested that the incubational age was on target. As she carefully adjusted the egg’s angle to get a better look, she asked Ava and Graham if they would like to know their child’s sex.
“Whoa! Too late! That’s obviously a penis.” Larkin laughed as they looked at the screen.
“Yep. No doubt about it. That’s my boy!” Graham whooped.
“Congratulations, Ava and Graham. I’m sorry if you wanted to be surprised at birth, but he had other plans.” Aubrey smiled.
She would repeat weekly ultrasounds from then until the projected due date for documentation purposes and to make sure their baby boy was developing well. Aubrey explained to Nicole that gestational age is calculated from the date of the last period, but the incubational age would be dated from the time of conception, so a “full term” baby would be thirty-eight weeks and not the traditional forty weeks.
A few weeks later, Nicole returned for another planned ultrasound. This time, Dr. Davis was also there. Jameson helped him into the house, and Ava moved items out of the way so he could navigate toward the bedroom using his walker. His steps were short and shuffling as the tennis balls on the back of the walker glided across the hardwood floors.
“Let’s see this baby,” he said to Aubrey as he stooped over his walker. His voice was warm.
She showed him the black-and-white images and pointed out the brain, the spine, the kidneys, and the beating heart. He had all of his fingers and toes, and he was sucking his thumb.
“Well, well . . . who would’ve thunk it?” Dr. Davis said with amazement. Then he chuckled, remembering this phrase as something his father used to say.
“You thunk it, Dad.” Jameson laughed from behind the camera.
“Yes, this is your baby, too, Dr. Davis,” Ava told him as she held him by the crook of his arm.
* * *
Ava’s coworkers held the after-school baby shower when Emery was thirty-three weeks pregnant and Ava told them she was thirty weeks along. Ava’s false pregnancy belly was getting heavier and more uncomfortable, and she was thankful she was able to remove it when she got home. She couldn’t imagine how Emery was feeling. The other teachers commented that Ava was “all belly.” They remarked that she didn’t seem to gain weight anywhere else, and her feet were amazingly unswollen. Ava mumbled that she guessed she was just lucky and gave credit to her mother’s genetics.
Half of the teachers’ lounge was decorated with blue balloons and the other half with pink for Emery’s baby—her prediction had been correct about having a girl. Gift bags with drawings of sheep and clouds and elephants covered one table, and another table had a punch bowl and cupcakes topped with ducklings and pacifiers. There were also multiple jars of unlabeled baby food to use in a game later. A calendar hung on the wall for everyone to guess the delivery dates.
Ava was thanking her friends for organizing the shower when she realized Emery wasn’t there. One of the fifth-grade teachers said Emery had gone to see her obstetrician that morning because she had a headache and felt dizzy. They hadn’t heard an update yet, but Emery had asked them to start without her if she wasn’t back on time.
As the group taste-tested the pureed mystery foods, trying to guess which ones were squash and peas and green beans, the principal came in to let them know Emery’s husband had called. She’d had an emergency C-section due to severe preeclampsia. The baby was in the NICU because she had some fluid in her lungs but was expected to be fine in a day or two. Even so, the baby might have to stay a little longer in the NICU to make sure she was feeding well and maintaining her body temperature—a common issue for premature babies. She was expected to be home in about a week.
The teachers murmured prayers and support, and they all texted words of encouragement to Emery. Some warned Ava that preeclampsia was more common with first babies; they hoped she had a good obstetrician who was monitoring her urine and blood pressure for any signs that she might be getting ill. Ava reassured them she was being checked closely and her baby was doing well.
She texted love and support to Emery before loading a generous number of gifts into her car. Then she went home to take off the prosthetic and check on her baby.
It was only two more weeks until their baby boy would be full term, so Graham and Ava invited his parents to the house so they could talk.
When they arrived, Ava was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, clearly not pregnant. Graham told them Ava wasn’t pregnant, but they were having a baby. His parents thought he was telling them a bizarre joke—his dad told him to be serious as they were not amused. Graham’s mom looked at Ava quizzically and asked if they had decided to use a surrogate but hadn’t mentioned it for some reason. “Can you not carry a baby yourself?” she asked Ava.
Ava looked to Graham to explain.
“No, Mom. There is no surrogate,” Graham assured them.
Ava and Graham brought his parents to their bedroom and showed them the incubator where their future grandchild was being housed. Graham’s parents stared in silence for a few moments before they began berating Graham and Ava.
“This is absolutely absurd,” his father said angrily. “What have the two of you done? You two have been part of that crazy Hen Party bullshit we heard about ten years ago? You’ve been hiding this from us the whole time?”
“You married her knowing this—this—is how you would have a baby? Or did she not tell you until after she had the ring on her finger?” his mother said, looking at Ava with disdain.
“What in the holy hell?” his dad said. “Will it be normal? Is it going to have feathers or something? Jesus Christ, Graham. What were you thinking? Were either of you even thinking?” Enraged, he threw his hands in the air.
Graham’s mother started pacing the floor and muttering. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I can’t believe this. We were so excited for this grandbaby.” Then she started crying.
“And Spencer and Larkin had to know all this, right? So they have been in on this deception as well, haven’t they?” Graham’s father bellowed at Ava.
“So,” Graham said calmly. “It is a boy, and, yes, he will be normal. He will not have feathers or a beak or a comb on his head. He will look like any other baby boy. Same end result as any other pregnancy, just different packaging.”
“And, yes, my parents knew,” Ava added. “We’re keeping this as private as we can, but we would like you to both be here when he’s born.”
Graham urged his parents to sit on the couch in the den. Once they were settled, he handed them ultrasound pictures.
“See? He is just like any other baby.”
They held the photos and looked at the images of their future grandson. His mother looked at Ava with tears in her eyes.
“You know,” his mom started to explain. “I had a horrible pregnancy with Graham. I was on bed rest from twenty-two weeks until his delivery because I had an incompetent cervix. Incompetent—what a horrible thing to tell a frightened young mother.” She shook her head in disbelief as she recalled the doctor’s words. “Telling me that my body was inadequate, not good enough. It was a scary and awful experience. I was only able to keep him inside me until he was almost twenty-nine weeks old. He was unbelievably tiny.” She traced the outline of her grandbaby on the ultrasound photo as she spoke.
“He was in the neonatal intensive care unit for almost six weeks,” Graham’s father added. “Had to have a tube down into his lungs so they could give him medicine to make his lungs stronger and he could breathe.” He patted his wife’s hand.
“We could only be with him at certain times of the day,” his mother said, looking at Ava. “It was torture not to be able to hold him. Then his dad caught the RSV infection and couldn’t visit Graham for a while because it could have killed him.” She paused at the awful memory. “When we finally got to take him home, we were relieved, but I sunk into a deep postpartum depression because I blamed myself for all of it. Me and my ‘incompetent’ cervix.” She emphasized that horrible word with contempt. “It took me a long time not to blame myself. It was just the anatomy I was given.” She waved her hands dismissively.
