A Nearly Perfect Copy - By Allison Amend Page 0,106

said. She wrapped her arms around her baby to clap at the end of the first number.

“We’re not really telling anyone yet, so … I’m getting a CVS next week. I figured after that …”

So far Elm felt completely different than she had during her other pregnancies. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant until her sixth week the first time, and when she found out she’d had more energy than she could ever remember having.

Michel had explained to her in his slithering accent. “The embryo is the same, but your body’s reaction to it cannot be predicted. You are how old now, forty-three? It is not the same, having a baby at thirty-four and forty-three. Also you maybe eat now differently? Different stress? All these affect the reaction to the pregnancy. You can only expect the same result, not the same process.”

She had had to switch OBs again, and she pretended to this one that she’d just gotten new insurance and was having trouble getting her previous medical records transferred. He, of course, suspected nothing. “Seems healthy,” he said. Elm always wondered if it took practice to be able to speak to someone while your hand was inside her, but all doctors seemed to take it in stride, commenting about the weather or summer camp with their finger up her vagina or palpating her breasts. Maybe it was a course they took, and Elm giggled to think of a classroom full of young med students chatting while patients tried not to move under their fingers.

Michel had insisted on the slightly risky CVS procedure, though her own gynecologist left it up to her. “Really, it’s your choice. You know the risk statistics, though they’re lower than the national average in New York and even lower in our practice.” How like New Yorkers, Elm thought, to consider themselves in a different data category than the rest of the United States. “But you are over thirty-five, so it is indicated.” Michel, meanwhile, had said that there was evidence, “anecdotal, not scientific,” of increased genetic mutations in clones. Diseases that hadn’t occurred to Elm, like Fragile X and DiGeorge syndrome, which occur in utero after conception as cells replicate.

Patty said, “My lips are sealed. Are you going to find out the sex?”

“We’re not sure. Appointment is on Wednesday and we’re still fighting about it.”

“Who’s for and who’s against?”

“Me, both sides, actually,” Elm said. “I can’t decide for the life of me.” Colin didn’t want to find out, but he left the decision up to her. Elm was worried that if she didn’t pretend to find out the sex, she would have trouble remembering to refer to the baby as both he and she.

“My husband refused to find out if Gina was a boy or a girl,” Patty said. “I had to keep it from him for, like, four months. Whenever he pissed me off I threatened to tell.”

Elm smiled, but her anxiety mounted. All she could think about was the amount of paperwork on her desk, and when and how to tell everyone she was expecting. She tapped her foot on the floor in time to the music to hide her frustration.

They went out for ice cream afterward at the parlor that was every kid’s dream: ruffles and hats and oversized parfait glasses filled with sugar-added candied fruits and sauces. Elm had one bite and had to put down her spoon, putting her hand to her mouth in case it came back up. She was confused. With Ronan and Moira she couldn’t get enough of ice cream; for a while it was the only thing she could stomach. Colin gave her a puzzled look when he saw she’d pushed the dish away. He said nothing, though; they were out with Patty and her family as well as another friend of Moira’s and his parents and stepparents and -siblings. Elm slid her sundae over to him and he finished it.

Moira fell asleep in the taxi on the way home, and Colin carried her into her room. Elm stayed in the bathroom, willing the nausea to stop. How was it possible that she was still feeling nauseated? Colin came in and said, “Moira asked for you.”

“Tell her I’ll be in in a second.”

“Are you all right?”

“I think so,” Elm said. She sat on the edge of the tub and rested her head in her hands. After a few minutes she walked back into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of seltzer and drank it