"Step Back" by Henry McFarland
A woman is shunned for preferring a natural pregnancy to a womb farm.
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Step Back by Henry McFarland
Beth never liked doctors’ offices—the white sterile surfaces, the antiseptic smell, the degrees pretentiously hung on the wall. Bob’s gently putting his hand on hers was comforting, but still she hated the waiting. Finally, Dr. Wilkins strode in, all brisk efficiency, and sat behind her desk. “Good news, Mrs. Stevens, your nausea doesn’t stem from anything serious, you’ve conceived in utero—inside your body. That means-”
Beth’s hands went to her belly. She had long dreamed of this. A child lived inside her! “That’s wonderful!”
Bob reached over and hugged his wife. The two shared a long kiss before he spoke. “We hoped you’d say that—our first child.”
“Excellent,” the doctor’s smile looked practiced. “I’m glad you’re both pleased. Now it’s a simple procedure to draw the embryo from where it’s embedded in your uterus, and we can recommend some fine womb farms to nurture it until it’s ready to go home as your child.”
Beth had expected such nonsense. She’d dreamed of this moment for years and no one would ruin it for her. “Doctor we’ll leave our child where she is. That’s how people procreated for thousands of years, isn’t it?”
A frown furrowed the dark skin of Dr. Wilkins’ brow. “I wouldn’t recommend that. The old method could lead to serious complications. Also, genetic enhancements are much harder in a natural womb—many are actually impossible.”
Beth reminded herself to stay calm. “Complications are possible either way. I don’t want those so-called enhancements—babies designed to look like everyone else, even babies without gender. Those aren’t enhancements.”
The doctor’s voice sounded reproving, irritated. “I’m not suggesting that you do those things, but were a genetic illness to arise, we might not be able to deal with it in an internal pregnancy.”
“Our families don’t have a history of genetic illness, so I don’t see why you raise the issue. Doctor, it’s my choice, and I’m going to carry this baby the way nature intended.”
Wilkins sighed in resignation. “Mrs. Stevens, this practice does not treat internal pregnancy. The only obstetrician still practicing that method around here is Dr. Pearson. I’ll refer you to him.”
Dr. Pearson could see them the next day. His office was on the lower level of an older building on the outskirts of downtown. Dust danced in the sunlight that streamed from the small windows near the ceiling, and his office had a musty smell, likely from the old medical books that filled the cases along the walls. That didn’t matter to Beth. His shock of gray hair showed he had lots of experience, and she loved his manner. He gave her and Bob a big smile. “Mrs. Stevens is young and in superb health, an excellent candidate for internal pregnancy. It’s great that you two won’t mindlessly conform to how other people have babies today.”
Beth was euphoric, a baby within her was all she wanted, and she knew the next few months would be great.
She watched her nutrition very carefully. Still she’d wake up with her stomach feeling queasy. Eating a few bland crackers helped sometimes, but other times she’d kneel next to the toilet and throw up. On a few days, the nausea lasted so long that she missed work. One day her supervisor called her to a conference room where a man from human resources waited.
Beth disliked the HR guy on sight. He looked cadaverous—skinny and pale as if he’d never been outside. He cleared his throat and started talking. “Ms. Stevens, your position requires a high degree of reliability, you have to be here when we need you. Because of the internal pregnancy, we can’t count on you. Thus, we no longer require your services. Of course, we’ll pay a two-week severance.”
Beth called Bob at his work, told him of her firing, and shouted, “They can’t do that to me! I’m going to find a lawyer and sue.”
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