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Mother by Annie James Anthropology 305 (Twentieth Century American Society) The following document reproduced in part from an account written in l990 is required reading as background for this course. In our society where marriage is entered into only after a written agreement has specified how many of the maximum of three permitted children will be borne by each partner, it is difficult to comprehend what life was like when a person's physical characteristics were predetermined and he or she was compelled to conform to rigidly defined norms of behaviour prescribed according to those physical characteristics. Hopefully this segment of biography will convey to the student in some measure at least an idea of how life was lived in that primitive society. August 10, 2154. J.W. Wannamaker, Professor of Anthropology University of the Pacific CHAPTER 1 The experience which changed my life so drastically began with an innocent (I thought) conversation. I had been living in --- ------- only two days. A call to an acquaintance who had moved west two years earlier did not find me a job but led to an invitation to the reception where I met Karen. We hit it off at once. While we shared the punch I learned that she was a nurse employed at the university hospital in obstetrics. With a grin I said that I would like to be a mother if it meant having her for my nurse. She allowed me to deliver her to her midnight duty shift at the hospital and agreed to a date the following night. At her suggestion I escorted her to a Hospital staff party that evening where I met Dr. Donne. We had already had several drinks when she suggested to him that I would probably be a suitable volunteer for his experimental work. We continued to drink while he explained his plans. Before our conversation ended the doctor was paged for an emergency. He was not gone ten minutes when Karen also was called. I escorted her back to the hospital which fortunately was within walking distance since I had had more than enough to drink. Instead of leaving me at the door Karen invited me in and I found myself in Dr. Donne's office being questioned about my sincerity as a volunteer. Several papers were placed in front of me which I signed with a show of bravado. That done, he announced that a suitable donor had just arrived and would I kindly prepare myself for bed in the nearby private ward. No sooner had I stretched out on the cot when Karen and another nurse arrived to give me a needle and wheeled me off down the corridor. I have no memory of arriving anywhere. Sometime next day I awakened in my hospital bed with Karen at my side. Her words to me were, "Well you are getting your wish! I am going to be your nurse because you are going to be a mother." She explained what I had only vaguely understood the night before. A woman in early pregnancy with a fatal gunshot wound to the head had been brought into the hospital. The bandage over my painful abdomen covered the incision into which her womb and live foetus had been transplanted. "You'll be famous!" added Karen before giving me another needle to promote more sleep. Over the next several days, as the pains began to ease and my stomach developed a morning routine of rejecting breakfast, I began to wonder how I had ever let myself get into this fix. How would I, unemployed and single, cope with the responsibility of a child? Dr. Donne reassured me that the papers I had signed included a promise of financial support from the university. Also, he said, Karen had agreed to take me into her apartment with her. She had already moved my meagre belongings from the hotel. Two days later, as the doctor removed stitches from my abdomen, more worrisome questions had to be asked. How could the baby be born since I have no birth canal? How would the baby be fed? Does a baby not need its mother's milk? "I assure you," replied the doctor, "that Caesarean section is a well- understood and safe surgical procedure. As for the baby's food, we would be very pleased indeed if you agree to breast feeding. Certainly your breasts should be secreting lots of milk by that time." Indeed by the time of my discharge from the hospital a week later both breasts had noticeably swelled. CHAPTER 2 Getting dressed to leave the hospital that afternoon made me realize that over the next several months the fit of my clothes would become a problem. Over my objections I was required to sit in a wheelchair while going from my hospital room to the main entrance. The taxi ride to Karen's took only a short few minutes but by the time I had walked into the building and ridden the elevator to the tenth floor my energy had been exhausted and I was ready to rest. Karen led me straight to the bedroom where I lay down without removing my clothes. An hour later I felt strong enough to sit up on the chesterfield supported by several pillows. I was able to sit at the table for a light supper but I did not protest when my offer to help with the dishes was refused. Karen helped me to remove my clothes and climb into bed. Before allowing me to pull on my pyjama top she produced a tape measure and slipped it around my chest. "Tomorrow I'll need to buy you your first bra!" she explained as she began to fondle the small swellings in my breast area. The sensation from her touch was very pleasant. She leaned over to plant a light kiss on my lips. "You won't need your pyjama top!" she said as she gently pushed me from a sitting position down onto the bed and then lifted my lower legs into place. She did not pull the covers up but continued to caress me as I lay back placidly. One of her hands slipped down between my legs as I began to feel sexual excitement for the first time since my operation. "Lie still!" she admonished when I tried to reach out my hands to touch her. "We mustn't open one of your incisions." Having satisfied herself with the state of my arousal she quickly slipped out of her own clothes and lay beside me. Her caresses continued to excite me until finally she lifted herself to straddle my legs and gently lowered herself onto my erection. I dared not move as she brought me to a climax. "Rapist!" I whispered when she leaned over to kiss me as I was drifting off to sleep. CHAPTER 3 Next morning I awakened to the aroma of bacon and eggs. As I started to sit up Karen's head appeared in the doorway. "I left mules and a robe beside the bed for you." she called. At that same moment I realized that I was wearing a woman's silk nightgown, coffee coloured crepe, with lace trim around my small bust. Evidently Karen had slipped it on me during the night. She came over to the bed to insist that I don the matching robe. "You'll be much more comfortable wearing this and it looks very good on you," she added as I padded off to the bathroom. I think I blushed but I did not tell Karen just how much I liked the feel of the silken clothes. For most of that day between naps I sat around the apartment watching television or reading. I managed to help with the breakfast dishes and set the table for lunch and for supper. I did not change from my nightgown and robe but did hide in the bedroom when Karen answered the door to pay the paperboy. At bed time, after a sponge bath, she insisted that I change to a fresh nightgown, blue silk this time. Again she began to caress my budding breasts, this time through the soft satiny material and again she completed her seduction of me from above as I lay on my back endeavouring not to move my abdominal muscles. By the end of the week my strength had improved enough that I could help with all the meals. Once a day I could now dress and take a short walk around the block. Karen insisted that I wear my new bra under my shirt. Fortunately my breasts, while becoming more prominent, could still be concealed if I were wearing my suitcoat. Dr. Donne called at the apartment on Friday to examine me. He expressed satisfaction at my progress and indicated that from then on I should come to his office for my weekly checkup. He also mentioned that the father of the child I was carrying would like to meet the new mother, but that this would be my decision. I said I would think about that before giving an answer. That afternoon as I was putting on my coat to go for my daily walk, Karen raised another subject. "What are you going to do about clothes when you can't close your pants any longer? Already you have to wear your coat to cover your breasts and it's getting too warm to keep that up. The temperature today is eighty and it is only the first of May." The gist of her remarks was that in her opinion I should start dressing completely as a woman. Her logic was impeccable. Men's clothes are never designed to cope with pregnancy. A pregnant man would be too conspicuous to go for a walk on the street without attracting a crowd. We continued to discuss the question for several days. It was her opinion that with a wig, and with some makeup on my face I would look so natural that no one would suspect. I finally agreed to ask Dr. Donne for wardrobe money when I went on Monday for my checkup. Somewhat to my surprise he agreed readily. "Are you also going to buy a wedding ring and call yourself Mrs. Stewart?" he asked, smiling. "Perhaps you should call yourself Donna instead of Don!" That night in bed after Karen had again led us through the sex act as she did most nights, I related Dr. Donne's comments. We laughed together when she suggested that if I took over the cooking and housekeeping completely I could consider myself her wife and adopt her name as Mrs. K. Carpenter. CHAPTER 4 Shopping for the basis of my new wardrobe was arranged for Tuesday evening. Karen persuaded her friend Joanne, the manager of a large ladies' wear store, to come back after hours. Backed by a line of credit from the university we certainly made it worth her while. Our first purchase was a pair of shoes, rather dainty pumps with fairly low heels, which were nevertheless higher and narrower than anything I had ever worn before. Wearing newly purchased panties and slip as well as my bra I spent the next two and a half hours trying on every dress, skirt and blouse which the store had in my size. We finally settled on three dresses, two skirts, four blouses and a pair of maternity slacks. After adding some more underwear and pantyhose I thought we would take our parcels and go, but the two women insisted on also choosing a summer coat, purse, cosmetics, and a wig. Then they sat me in front of a mirror and proceeded to apply the cosmetics. With my face made up and my nails painted my masquerade was about to begin. Wearing pantyhose, new shoes, dress, wig, and coat, and carrying my purse, I was finally declared ready to face the world at 10:30 p.m. according to Karen's watch. Nervously I stepped into the street and took the dozen steps to Karen's car. I reached for my non-existent pocket to find the keys before remembering that a woman carries them in her purse. Karen laughed and produced the keys which she had appropriated before parcelling up my male clothes. "I'd better drive," she said. "You'd be rather embarrassed if a policeman asked for your licence." We quickly loaded my parcels and I slipped into the right hand seat. "Home, James!" I ordered. "Not yet! We'll stop at a restaurant for a coffee before we drop Joanne off." Thus my very first public appearance in my new role took place in a small cafe on B------- Street. I braced my shoulders before entering and walked straight to a booth without looking to either side. "Smooth your skirt under you." whispered Karen after we had sat down, "and relax. No one can tell!" "Why are those men looking at us?" I whispered back. "Men always look at pretty girls. There's nothing to worry about." "Just milk," I mumbled when the waitress came to take our order. Fear that my voice would give me away kept me from taking much part in the conversation between Karen and her friend. Walking down the aisle to the ladies' washroom and back I felt that I was being watched by everyone in the room. Having to pull down my pantyhose and sit to relieve my bladder was awkward. What should be done with a purse when both hands are needed to adjust one's clothes? It was a relief to have Karen pay the check but I felt awkward while she did it. At the car she unlocked my door before going around to the driver's place. Back in the apartment we discussed my experiences at the restaurant. "Your greatest difficulty, besides controlling your voice, will be learning how to relate to men," she prophesied, "and of course women will treat you differently, .......... as an equal. You won't be expected to hold doors open for them." With her assistance I applied face cream to remove the makeup from my face before bed. I wondered aloud if I would ever learn to apply it effectively. I had not even dared to touch up my lipstick in the restaurant washroom. A short while later, while Karen completed her own ablutions, I lay in bed in my silk nightgown hoping to be seduced again. I was not disappointed. CHAPTER 5 "Get dressed but don't put on your wig and don't shave yet." These were my instructions, received first thing next morning. "Your cosmetologist will be here at nine o'clock. You can wear lipstick if you like and I'll help you to fluff your hair a bit." This was the first I learned of the arrangement which was to be a daily routine for the next two months. For two hours I sat in a chair trying to read while the heavier hairs of my beard were removed by electrolysis. The process was painful at times but even after the first session there was noticeably less for me to shave. My first lesson in making up my own face followed before lunch so that by afternoon I was again ready to face the world as an apparent woman. From then until late in my pregnancy I paid very careful attention to makeup because somehow it bolstered my confidence. Later when I had adjusted better to the social effects of being treated as a woman it did not seem quite so important. Shopping became a major part of my afternoon routine for the next several days. On that first nervous trip downtown with Karen I acquired a new lady's watch, some simple jewellery and a compact and had my ears pierced. On subsequent trips there were more shoes, another purse, gloves, scarves, underwear, more cosmetics and of course my own nightdresses and dressing gown. Gradually I came to accept that no one thought of me as anything but what I appeared. As Karen had suggested, getting used to my effect on men would be the most startling adjustment. Always they seemed to pay me particular attention. Being deferred to on elevators and having doors held open were courtesies which I came to expect. For the longest while Karen had to keep emphasizing that covert glances from strange men represented compliments, not a signal that my makeup was smeared or my stockings had a run. This lesson was particularly brought home to me on one occasion when I bent over to place a parcel in the car. The appreciative whistle of a passing deliveryman startled me but Karen assured me that I behaved with perfect aplomb and no sign of my confused blush showed through my foundation makeup. Later, as my pregnancy advanced and my stomach expanded, the male emphasis on courtesies became even more pronounced. The appreciative glances declined but never entirely ceased. Saturday evening we went to a movie. Karen chose 'Tootsie' and I had no trouble identifying with Dustin Hoffman in his drag role. Sunday for the first time we attended church. I found it difficult to concentrate on the service and of course my voice was not yet sufficiently controlled to join in the hymns. Nevertheless it was deeply satisfying to sit quietly pondering God's purpose in permitting me to become a mother. I prayed silently for the health and future of my unborn child. Somehow this contemplation gave me a new sense of purpose and a different perspective on my daily masquerade. From that day forward church attendance assumed a new importance in my life. CHAPTER 6 Monday morning Karen left early to resume her regular duties at the hospital. For three and a half weeks her time had been totally devoted to me as nurse, companion, and maid. We agreed that by now I should at least be able to manage for myself through the day. I endured the usual agonies of electrolysis in the morning and made up my own face for my afternoon appointment with Dr. Donne. For the first time I ventured from the apartment as a woman without Karen at my side. I managed the bus ride successfully and reached the office without incident. Even Dr. Donne was affected by my transformation. As I entered he stood up and walked forward to greet me. "Good afternoon Miss Stewart. You do look attractive today. May I call you Donna? Please sit here close to the desk." With that he pulled a chair forward and held it for me to sit before resuming his own place behind the desk. When he was satisfied with my answers to all his professional questions he again brought up the wish of Mark Johnson, the baby's father, to meet me. "Why does he want to meet me?" I asked. "I'd think he would only want to forget the tragedy of losing his wife and concentrate on rebuilding his life." "Sometimes it is very difficult to recover from grief when you can't look at the dead body of a loved one. With her badly injured face she had to be buried in a closed casket. His doctor thinks, and I agree, that seeing you will help him to realize that it is all over and even if the child survives, his wife is gone forever. He promises not to bother you again if you agree to see him." "Does he know my sex?" "We haven't revealed anything about you to him. I said I would try to get your answer at your appointment today and I promised to phone him later." "Then you had better tell him that Miss Stewart feels it would be too upsetting for her. I hate to be uncooperative but I feel very apprehensive about this." "Very well! We will certainly honour your wishes. The subject is closed." I went straight home from my appointment to begin planning Karen's supper. With her working again I was faced with my first total responsibility for preparing a meal. Half an hour later, full of confidence, I popped down to the local supermarket to replenish our supply of milk and butter. Going out I just remembered in time to pick up my purse. Had the apartment door slammed I would have been locked out without either keys or money. I wondered if carrying a purse could become automatic or if I would always have to think carefully to avoid embarrassment. When I asked Karen that question at supper she admitted she had twice had to ask the building superintendent to let her back into the apartment. "Now you know why girls carry 'mad' money," she added. Her answer was not very reassuring but she did promise to introduce me to the superintendent. She also decided to add my name to the lease and post both our names on the mailbox in the entrance. "That way deliverymen will be able to find the place if you have been shopping," she concluded. Supper went off successfully and she sat reading the paper while I did the dishes. CHAPTER 7 "I have a letter for you from Dr. Donne," said the voice over the intercom as I answered a buzz from the front entrance. I had been about to leave for another afternoon shopping trip, my first alone, but I waited for the messenger to knock. When I opened the door, there stood a tall man of about my own age. Standing on my high heels I had to tilt my head up slightly to look him in the face. Blue eyes, regular features, crew cut, neatly dressed, would sum up his appearance. "Miss Stewart?" At my nod he continued, "I'm Mark Johnson. May I come in?" Taken by surprise I stood undecided for a moment, then gestured him into the room. Nothing more was said until we were both seated. "You do know who I am?" he asked. "You're the father. Aren't you?" "That's right." "I told Dr. Donne that we should not meet." "He passed on your message." "Then what are you doing here?" "Dr. Donne told me that I could expect your answer after your two o'clock appointment. I was afraid you might say no, so I waited in the corridor outside to see who came for that appointment. I sat in my car until you left at two-thirty and then followed your bus. Later when I talked to the doctor he gave me your message but he let slip that your name is Stewart. So I did not have to wait outside to catch you coming or going." "By the way, if you don't mind me asking, what does the 'D' stand for?" "Donna." "That's a pretty name. I like it." "Thank you." "Are you married?" "No, but I am not sure it is any of your business!" "Please forgive me. I don't mean to be too personal. I really wanted to see you for Susan's sake." "Susan?" "My wife. We were only married for four months." "I'm sorry. Her death was very tragic." "I like to think she will be pleased to know someone else will be made happy by bearing her child. Our child. Are you happy to be pregnant?" "It's what I requested." "But are you happy?" "Ecstatic! But I am sorry about Susan. I do not like to gain my happiness at her expense. And yours!" "The doctor said that you could not have children of your own; that you were born without a womb." "That's true!" I hastened to change the subject. "Tell me about Susan." Thus prompted he began to relate how they had met at evening classes two years before and become friends while studying together. Both were strangers in the city and were so happy to find one another. They were still adjusting to being married to each other and had not known for sure that she was pregnant when she was so tragically killed. She had been to the doctor earlier that day for pregnancy tests but was to return the next week for the results. I glanced down at my watch. Three forty-five! We had been talking for almost two hours, or rather he had been talking because I had tried to say as little as possible, keeping the conversational ball in his court. "Oh! It's late," I interrupted. "You'll have to go now. I must get down to the store. It's been really pleasant talking to you." "May I see you again?" "I really don't think it's a very good idea." "Please!" "Well." I thought hard for an excuse to refuse. Suddenly it struck me that it would be easier if Karen were also present. "My roommate and I are planning a picnic at the beach on Sunday afternoon. You may come if you wish. We'll be leaving at one- thirty." "Thank you so much. I'll be on time." As the door closed behind Mark Johnson I breathed a sigh of relief. That conversation had been a real strain. Not only had I had to watch the pitch of my voice but I had taken great care about what I said. Thinking back over my own words raised questions in my mind. Why had I not revealed my true sex? Why had I declared myself ecstatic over the prospect of motherhood? I clearly remembered that it had been mostly bravado, fortified to some extent by alcohol which had gotten me into this situation. Since waking in my hospital bed with stitches across my stomach I had accepted my fate, not with enthusiasm, but with resignation. A sense of responsibility for a helpless unborn infant had overwhelmed me in church. 'Ecstatic!' That word was too strong, chosen to reassure Mark, but for the first time I admitted to myself that I liked what was happening to me. Karen was amused that I had been unable to refuse a second meeting with Mark. "See how hard it is for a woman to say no to a man," she commented. To my surprise she felt I was right to conceal my sex from him. "It will be easier for him if he doesn't learn the truth," she added. She readily agreed to cooperate with the picnic I had spontaneously invented while ushering him to the door. She did insist on one condition, that I agree to make a swim in the ocean a part of our outing. CHAPTER 8 Mark arrived precisely on time. Karen and I accepted his offer to drive and our picnic gear was loaded into the trunk of his car. I found myself placed in the centre front seat between the other two. Karen supplied directions to reach her favourite beach and Mark expertly manoeuvred through the Sunday traffic. Both of them seemed to direct the conversation to me and being the centre of attention kept me quite nervous during the whole drive. At the beach Karen led the way to a picnic table while Mark and I shared the handle of the picnic basket as we followed. Then it was off to change while Mark guarded the table. I felt more nervous than ever walking back across the beach wearing my new bathing suit for the first time. Every male eye in the crowd seemed to follow my progress. Mark grinned a welcome and commented that he was the luckiest man present to be escorting two such lovely ladies. While he went to change Karen and I coated each other with suntan oil. We three spent a most pleasant afternoon. Time went quickly as we alternated between lying in the sun and taking short dips in the ocean. Mark complimented me on my new flowered bathing cap. He said both it and my blue bathing suit matched my eyes. I was careful not to exert myself too much when swimming and both of them were very solicitous in guarding me from the robust play of our neighbours. By the time we ate our picnic supper I had relaxed considerably. Afterwards we strolled through the amusement park. I insisted on being a spectator while Mark and Karen rode the roller-coaster, but Karen watched and snapped our picture as Mark and I rode the merry-go-round. Back at the apartment Karen invited Mark in for tea and before he left at ten-thirty, we had agreed to accompany him to a movie on Wednesday evening. CHAPTER 9 At Monday's appointment with Dr. Donne I was surprised at my own embarrassment when, for the first time since my operation, I was required to remove all of my clothes for a complete physical examination. I had become used to rearranging my apparel so he could view my incision, but this time I was closely inspected from head to toe. Before allowing me to dress he produced a tape and carefully recorded all my measurements. When I was again clothed and sitting before his desk he took from the drawer a list of measurements, made at the hospital before my operation, for comparison. "Breast development is coming along very well. ......Your biceps are down slightly. ......There is some expansion in the hip area. ...... Your waist is now smaller than it was before. ......We don't have any measurements to compare but it is very obvious that your stomach no longer sticks out as it did for the first couple of weeks after the transplant." "I don't understand why my stomach should get smaller. Does that mean there is something wrong with the baby?" I started to panic at the thought. "Not at all. This is just your body adjusting to the different hormones. You can expect the baby to begin to show noticeably somewhere between sixteen and twenty weeks. Right now you are only about week seven if we have calculated right. At the moment, except for your genitals, you look like a perfectly normal woman. It's only the urine test which proves you are pregnant. Most women would only be finding out for sure that they are pregnant at this stage." "You should be learning more about pregnancy," he continued. "On your way home buy a copy of this book." He wrote the title on a paper and handed it to me. "From now on I also want you to keep a diary recording any physical or mental changes which you notice. You will understand from the book what kind of things to record, but don't forget that your case is very special so anything could be significant. And bring it with you when you come for your next appointment. That will be in three weeks unless something worries you before then. You have my home telephone number if you need it." * * * Karen noticed me staring blankly at the open notebook on the kitchen table after I had cleared the supper dishes. "You look perplexed!" she commented. "What can I write in a diary for Dr. Donne? Everything that comes to mind seems too personal." "Have you recorded your due date? When is it by the way?" "Not yet. He says it's January 20 plus or minus." "Well today is only June 12 so you have a lot of days to fill. Better start with your weight, how much you have eaten, how you feel, and if you have any aches or pains. Maybe you should measure your waist each day." "I think I will keep two diaries, one for the doctor and one just for me." CHAPTER 10 The following day at supper Karen presented me with a gift-wrapped parcel bound with pink ribbon. The card read, 'For an expectant mother, With all best wishes.' Inside was a beautiful leather bound diary, complete with gold key. On the title page was written, 'To Donna with love from Karen, June 15, 1983. May your future be filled with all the joy that only a child can bring!' To my own surprise a tear ran down my cheek and I felt a lump in my throat as I thanked Karen with a kiss. I strung the pink ribbon through the key and hung it around my neck for the balance of the evening. Here is one of the early entries in that diary; 'Friday, June 18, 1983. 'Up at seven. Breakfast with Karen. Luxurious bath and dressed by nine. Sat still for cosmetologist from nine to eleven except for coffee at ten. Beard much thinner. Mrs. Jones says we are making good progress but at least another month to go. I wonder if it will be embarrassing not to have a beard when I stop masquerading. Mrs. J. thinks I am a transsexual. I suppose I am in one sense but it is a temporary arrangement. I wonder what she would think of my sexual relationship with Karen? The morning TV programs are nearly all for small children. Maybe in a year or so I will have to watch some of them with my son, ... or daughter but right now I certainly prefer to read. Three chapters of Winston Churchill's 'The Gathering Storm' today. Mrs. J. has offered to lend me some Romance stories. I suppose I will have to read one or two just to keep her happy. Fortunately we can't have any conversation while she is working. At least I am not allowed to move or speak. It is annoying to have someone talk at you when you cannot respond. Our only real conversation is restricted to the ten-minute coffee break. Read another chapter of 'Mothers To Be' before lunch. Must be careful to follow diet rules. By bus to Motor Vehicle Bureau after lunch. Completed application for Learner's Permit. Checked 'F' where it asked for sex. They will let me take a test in two weeks only if I take lessons at a commercial driving school. Otherwise it will be one month. Cannot tell them I already have a licence. If I say I have been practising without a Learner's Permit there would be a fine to pay. Karen says to take the commercial lessons and get on with it. (Life has become very complicated.) 'Karen had to return to the hospital after supper leaving me to face Mark alone for the evening. Before leaving she made me change to my green dress and helped with my makeup and nail polish. Mark right on time. Smartly dressed, white shirt, tie, sports jacket (freshly pressed), sharp crease in trousers, freshly shined shoes. All this for me and Karen? Car door opened and closed for me. My arm taken walking to and from car. Help with my coat. Mark is a perfect gentleman. Too bad I am not a real lady! Pink Panther movie, old but funny. He pays for the tickets. Coke and doughnut at a drive-in. He wanted a fancy restaurant. I refused. Easy to persuade him I must have only the number of calories specified in 'Mothers To Be'. He insisted on coming right to door of apartment. Quick handshake and thank you. Not invited in. Did promise to go for a drive on Saturday. I need Karen with me. Should not be alone with him. Real fun evening though!' By the end of June life seemed to have settled into a steady routine. I had completely taken over the cooking and housekeeping while Karen worked regularly at the hospital. Mornings were still taken up with electrolysis sessions but very little beard still remained. With my required driving lessons completed and my new licence issued time seemed to hang heavy in the afternoons. When I mentioned this to Karen she was quick with suggestions. At her urging I enrolled for both swimming and dancing classes at the YWCA. On impulse one afternoon I signed up for a class in knitting and eventually produced a sweater for myself followed by sweater, boots, and bonnet for the baby. Then I took up sewing to produce other garments for the baby's layette. Thinking back it seems incredible that my lifestyle and activities could have changed so drastically in such a short time. Mark spent more and more of his free time with us. I tried to avoid being alone with him, but as Karen usually refused his invitations to a movie or concert, he and I had several evenings out together. Fortunately he was always a perfect gentleman, and I tried not to encourage intimacies. Other evenings the three of us spent time in the apartment talking or playing Scrabble. CHAPTER 11 At Mark's request that I be his date for the wedding of a friend from his office I was completely taken aback. When I refused he appealed to Karen for assistance in changing my mind. After two days of pressure I reluctantly consented. Karen was elated to learn that it was a formal affair and devoted a whole Saturday to parading us through the dress shops to find me the perfect gown. Secretly I was delighted by all the fussing, but seriously worried by the situation. When my escort called for me at three p.m. on the day of the wedding, I looked every inch the lady, wearing my long pale blue gown with only thin spaghetti straps over otherwise bare shoulders. It felt strange to be wearing elbow length gloves, and the heels of my pumps were the highest I had yet attempted. Karen minutely inspected my makeup and lightly powdered my shoulders before draping the lace stole around me and placing my clutch purse in my hand. That done, she turned to Mark to exclaim, "Sir, may I introduce you to the prettiest girl in --- -------- !" "You certainly may, but I think you must mean the prettiest girl on the Pacific Coast! You look ravishing my dear," he added to me. Dressed in my finery I felt very conspicuous until we arrived at the church and we were ushered to our places. Among all the elegantly dressed guests I immediately had a feeling of blending in with the scenery. My mind followed strange pathways as the ceremony unfolded. Playing the part of a female guest led me to imagine the feelings of the bride as she proceeded up the aisle on her father's arm. Later, passing through the receiving line I was startled to realize that I was expected to gently touch the groom's cheek with my painted lips while Mark received a gentle kiss from the bride. The wedding banquet was an elegant affair. Champagne was provided for the toasts and the waiters were quick to refill glasses. By the time we rose to go into the ballroom I felt quite light-headed. Certainly I felt no inhibitions about dancing with Mark and with all of the other men who asked. My lessons at the YWCA helped me in coping with the varying styles of my numerous partners. Flattery was directed at me continuously. During my dance with the groom I was told, "Mark is certainly lucky to have you for a date. If this wasn't my wedding day I'd want to monopolize you myself." All in all I had a wonderful time, crowned perhaps by the fact that the bride's bouquet flew over her shoulder directly into my hands. I blushed when people asked if Mark and I had set the date. Well into the morning hours Mark delivered me to the apartment door, still light-headed from the champagne and flattery. After he had unlocked the door and returned the key for me to put back into my purse, I must have hesitated somewhat wistfully. Before I had turned to slip inside I found myself in his arms being kissed. When he broke off I managed to whisper, "No, please Mark, I am not ready for that. It's been a wonderful evening, but I just can't let you ....." Before I could finish the sentence he had begun to kiss me again. When he released me this time, I stepped back and held both his hands in mine. "It has been fun," I blurted out, "but I must go in now. Good night." This time I leaned forward, gave him a quick peck on the forehead, turned, and slipped into the apartment with tears streaming down my cheeks. Karen was waiting up for me in the bedroom. When she heard the door close, she came into the living room in her nightdress to greet me with a hug. "What's this?" she asked as she felt my tears on her shoulder. "Did you not have a good time?" "Perfectly marvellous! But I am not a girl and it's wrong to fool people," I sobbed. "There, there," she soothed. "Come to Karen and I will look after you." She lowered the back zipper on my dress, and led me into the bedroom. Within moments, with her help, I was lying naked on the bed. She lay down facing me and ran her hand up and down my back. As my arousal grew, I reached to pull her close, and ran my hands over her body. We kissed passionately, and for the first time in our relationship I took the active role in our lovemaking. We fell asleep still on top of the covers, and slept well into the morning. CHAPTER 12 It was the ringing telephone which wakened us. Sleepily I reached for the receiver on the table beside the bed. "Good morning. How is my favourite girl? Will you join me for lunch?" came Mark's voice. "I'm fine, but no, I won't join you for lunch. I've just wakened up." Karen pulled the phone from my hand. "You come here for lunch. I want to hear all about the wedding. Be here in half an hour," she said and hung up. "Now let's move!" she added to me. That afternoon Mark took us for a drive along the coast road, stopping at each lookout point to admire the view through his binoculars. Again I sat in the middle of the seat and felt myself to be the centre of attention. At each stop Mark would take me by the hand or put his arm around my waist for the walk to the viewpoint. Karen tagged along on either side, sometimes holding my other hand and sometimes Mark's. In between she snapped candid pictures of Mark and me as well as making us pose. All in all the afternoon was delightfully relaxing. For supper we picnicked at a roadside park. When Mark returned us to Karen's apartment about eight p.m., I suggested that he not come in, pleading exhaustion and the need to be careful of my 'delicate condition'. Reluctantly he agreed, but only after extracting a promise that I would accompany him to see a play on Wednesday evening. "Karen, what am I going to do?" I asked when we were alone in the apartment. "He is getting entirely too friendly. He is always wanting to hold my hand and put his arms around me!" "You certainly looked happy enough this afternoon!" she replied. "The two of you only had eyes for each other! I should be bringing along another date so we could be a foursome." "Oh, Karen! You know what is bothering me! He doesn't want to stop with holding hands. And last night he kissed me goodnight! I should never have let him think I was a girl. Now I don't know how to tell him. He'll hate me for leading him on!" "You do have a problem," she acknowledged. "I hate to see it come to that, but if you can't stay in control of the relationship and set the limits, maybe you will have to tell him. Unfortunately you're not a very experienced 'woman', and you tend to follow wherever he leads." For the next three days I worried constantly about how to reveal my true sex to Mark. When he called for me on Wednesday evening, I still had no idea about what to say, but was determined to put an end to the deception. Nevertheless I dressed carefully in the green dress which Mark had previously complimented me about, and I accepted all his courtesies throughout the evening. Again he held my hand while we watched the play. By the time we had lunched and were returning to Karen's in his car I was becoming desperate, determined to act, but afraid to begin. When the car pulled up in front of the apartment, instead of getting out and coming around to open my door, Mark gently pulled me toward him. "Mark!" I cried somewhat desperately. "What is the matter?" "Please don't kiss me!" "What's wrong? Surely you're not afraid of me!" "I'm afraid of myself," I blurted, "I can't handle a relationship. It's all I can do to cope with pregnancy. I like you a lot, but I am not ready to be intimate with anyone. "I was seeing a psychiatrist back home before I came to the coast," I lied. "After what happened to me I was not supposed to be able to become a wife or mother. Now Dr. Donne has made it possible for me to bear a child." "Do you want to tell me what happened to you?" he asked quietly. "I'd rather not talk about it," I replied. "In that case we won't, and I'll wait for you to tell me when you are ready to be kissed." He stepped out of the car then, came around to help me out, and escorted me into the building. At the apartment door he took my hands in his, raised first one and then the other to his lips and kissed each lightly on the back. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said as I stepped in the door. "Did you tell him?" Karen asked as soon as the door closed behind me. "No, and I made things worse," I replied and burst into tears. "There, there. Come and cry on my shoulder." I continued to sob as I recounted the conversation to her. "You've nothing to cry about," was her comment when she had sorted out what I was saying. "Now you are learning how to manage a man. You can set the pace from here on." "But I am only leading him on more and more." "There's lots of time to worry about that. Don't forget he came to see you first of all because you are carrying his baby." "And Susan's." "Anyway stop crying. You can remain friends with him at least up until the baby is born." CHAPTER 13 Next day when Mark called, I happily accepted another date with him. Without the worry about further intimacies I was able to relax and enjoy myself much more. When we sat talking in the car I continued to ask questions which kept him telling about himself, and I carefully avoided revealing more about my own background beyond the name of my home town and the fact that I have one sister. He seemed to accept the limits I had put on the relationship and continued to seek my company at every opportunity. We went to the movies regularly or just spent the evenings together in Karen's apartment. Even when Karen was out we would sit and play two-handed Bridge, or I would knit while we watched television. Twice we went dancing with Karen and one of the interns from the hospital. Looking back I can honestly say that this was one of the happiest periods of my life. For some reason none of the complications and problems reported in 'Mothers To Be' seemed to affect me. In the early days at the hospital and just after moving to Karen's I had a few episodes of morning sickness, but after that my health seemed ideal. I carefully kept the required diary for Dr. Donne and of course the private one for myself. I was most conscientious about following the diet, exercise, and rest instructions from the book, and at each visit my doctor pronounced himself very pleased with my progress. Just as he had predicted, my waist began to be noticeably thicker by mid-August, and by mid-September no one could miss noticing that my stomach stuck out. I first felt the baby move at six-thirty a.m. on September 14. For some reason I had wakened early and was lying on my back quietly waiting for the alarm at seven. It was hard to resist the urge to shake Karen awake to share my excitement. I lay there with both hands over my belly seeking external evidence of what I felt inside. At breakfast I was bubbling over with excitement, but the baby seemed to have finished its exercise for the time being. Before breakfast was finished I phoned Mark to apprise him of the good news. He sounded much more excited than Karen. "I'm so pleased that you couldn't wait to tell me this evening!" he enthused. Shortly before lunch a bouquet of red roses was delivered to the apartment. The card read, 'For the Mother of our baby on a very special occasion, Mark.' About this time also, I at last got up the nerve to write home to tell my parents what was happening to me. It took over a week to compose the letter, but it was finally posted. Two days later my mother phoned. "I can't believe what it says in your letter," she began. "Surely you can't be serious. It isn't possible that my son could have a baby." "It's all true Mother. And I am very excited about it. You'd be amazed at how my stomach sticks out now," I added, trying to calm her fears. She had just opened the mail and had phoned before she really understood what my letter said. The outcome of our conversation was my promise to make a visit home as soon as possible. Later when I reported to Dr. Donne that I would be gone for a week I was surprised at his vehement reaction. He reminded me of how special my circumstances were and of the great need to be close to help if anything unforeseen occurred. He finally agreed that I could go only on condition that I be accompanied by Karen and that we be away no longer than four days. CHAPTER 14 For the trip home I chose low-heeled shoes, plain maternity slacks, and a top which resembled a man's sport shirt. I omitted all makeup and jewellery, and arranged my hair as simply as possible. I even resurrected my man-style wristwatch. Karen made no criticism of my plain appearance. No doubt she understood that I wanted to reduce the shock to my parents as much as possible. She did comment that no one could possibly mistake me for anything but a pregnant woman, no matter how I dressed. On leaving the plane just after mid-day we took a taxi to my parents' home. I had avoided telling them our time of arrival because I preferred not to be met at the airport. My mother was amazed at my appearance. "I guess you really are pregnant," she admitted between hugs. "Your father won't know you when he gets in from work." She welcomed Karen and assigned us separate bedrooms. Conversation that afternoon consisted of one long interrogation, interrupted only while tea was being prepared. Mother had still not run out of penetrating questions when Dad arrived from work. I was in the midst of explaining that after the baby's birth and the cessation of the hormones associated with the birth process my body would readjust to its normal proportions. "Hello, Helen!" he said, "I didn't expect to find you here. Where's your brother?" "Harry!" interjected my mother, "This is Don, not Helen!" "My God! You look just like your sister, but come to think of it, she wasn't pregnant when we saw her on Sunday. You look just like her when she was expecting Jennifer. I don't know whether to shake your hand or ......." "Give him a hug and a kiss," prompted my mother. I could feel my ears reddening as I stepped forward to receive the hug and a dutiful peck on the cheek before introducing Karen. His questions were not as personal as my mother's, but equally penetrating in their own way. "Where are you getting the money to live on while you wait for the baby?" "How do you plan to support yourself and a child as it grows up?" I had to admit that that last question bothered me quite a lot and that I had no final answer. When Mother announced that it was time for her to go to the kitchen to prepare supper, I volunteered to help while Karen talked with my father. After supper my parents backed the suggestion from Karen that I should have a nap to compensate for the already long and tiring day. "Karen will help me with the dishes while your father reads the paper. After you have had your rest we can all sit down together for a game of Bridge," announced Mother with finality. I fell asleep almost immediately and felt totally disoriented when I awakened about nine o'clock to the sound of laughter from downstairs. When I ventured down the steps, my sister Helen jumped up from her seat at the card table and rushed over to greet me with a hug and a kiss. "You are pregnant!" she exclaimed. "Are you excited about it? You'll make History! I just had to come and see you. John is at home minding Jennifer." She continued with a rapid fire succession of questions and statements that allowed me no opportunity to say anything. I did feel relieved that she had not brought her husband along. "Oh, but you do look frumpy! Tomorrow morning you are coming over to my house for some lessons in makeup. And I have some maternity clothes to lend you that will make you look like the 'belle of the ball'." Those four days at home passed very quickly. If Karen was amused at my pretence of knowing nothing about makeup, she was too polite to show it. My mother expressed delight at the results achieved by Helen in making up my face, colouring my nails, and dressing me in her best maternity clothes along with appropriate jewellery. I thoroughly enjoyed being the centre of attention in the family, once I had gotten over my initial embarrassment. I even brought out my knitting for all to see. I did refuse however, to go downtown, or anywhere else where I thought some one might recognize me, in spite of assurances from all the family that that was totally impossible. All too soon Mother and Helen along with two year old Jennifer were saying goodbye to Karen and myself at the airport. Mother's parting words were a reminder of her willingness to come to --- ------- to be with me at the time of the birth. Helen concentrated on charging Karen with the task of seeing that I continue to dress attractively and wear appropriate makeup. On board the jet Karen asked if I felt more at ease now that the visit was over. "You certainly were tense when we arrived," she commented. "I almost called Dr. Donne the first night. Luckily you seemed to relax from the second day on." CHAPTER 15 Back in --- ------- our routine was quickly re-established. Dr. Donne pronounced me unharmed by the trip home and rescheduled my examinations for once every two weeks. Playing the part of a woman among people who had not known me as a male was becoming second nature to me. Mark appeared the first evening of our return with a bouquet of flowers to welcome us back. In spite of my resolve to keep our relationship at arm's length, I was the one who initiated a welcome back hug and bussed him on the cheek as thanks for the flowers. I accepted an invitation to go with him the following Sunday for an all day drive up the coast. Carefully made up and wearing my prettiest maternity top and skirt I was ready at eight in the morning when he arrived to escort me to the car. As we left the apartment, Karen, still in her housecoat, commented that we made a very handsome couple. Her remark made me blush and I avoided Mark's eyes. "Thank you," he replied. "I am flattered to be escorting such a lovely lady! I'd like to do it more often. I wish she would be my steady." "Silly," I mumbled, "I don't go out with any other man." "Aha! Then you admit we are going steady," he beamed, putting his arm around my waist and hustling me down the corridor. "You've made my day already." He kept his arm around me as we descended on the elevator and walked to the car. Once in the car he drove quickly to the freeway and headed north. I asked why we were going so fast. "We have about a hundred and seventy miles to go before lunch." "Where are we going?" "To visit an older couple that I know. We are invited for lunch. I would like them to meet my steady." "I wish you wouldn't call me that." Mr. and Mrs. Thomas were waiting to welcome us when we pulled up at their modest home in -------. Mark hopped out of the car to greet them on the front lawn and brought them over to meet me. He opened my door and took my hand to help me from the car. "Folks, this is Donna. Donna this is Robert and Jean Thomas." "Mark has spoken of you often. We've been anxious to meet you," said Mr Thomas, shaking my hand. "We can see why he is so taken with you," added his wife. "Be careful what you say now," broke in Mark. "Donna refuses to be called my steady, even though she admits she doesn't go out with anyone else." "It's you who embarrasses the poor girl, not us," spoke up Mrs. Thomas as I felt another blush coming to my face. "Don't listen to him," she added for my benefit. "Let's go right in the house now. Dinner is just ready to come out of the oven." The meal was delicious and I tried to hold up my end of the conversation, but I could not help wondering why Mark had brought me. These people must have known Susan and would be curious about her husband taking up with an obviously pregnant girl so soon after her death. The Thomases were most cordial however, so that by the end of the meal I was beginning to feel more relaxed. I helped Jean to clear the table while the two men sat talking in the living room. Then the four of us had a leisurely tour of their extensive flower garden. It caught me by surprise when Mark announced that it was already three o'clock and we must be starting for home. Jean insisted that we must have another snack before leaving. When I entered the kitchen to help her with the tea things she dumbfounded me by taking my hand in hers and saying softly, "I hope you won't mind me saying this, but I do hope you will marry Mark. He is such a fine lad. We love him like our own son. And he was so broken up by Susan's death. I just know you would make him a fine wife." With that she turned quickly to pour the boiling water into the teapot, thus sparing me the difficult task of framing a reply. On the way back in the car we sat in silence for a long time. I felt angry with Mark for placing me in the embarrassing position of being perceived as his intended bride by these people who had known Susan. At the same time I dared not lash out in anger for fear that he might decide to have nothing further to do with me. With my emotions in a turmoil I finally ventured, "Why did you take me to meet that couple?" "They wanted to meet you. Why? Did you not like them?" "They are very nice, but I was embarrassed." "Why?" "She suggested that I should marry you." "What's wrong with that?" "Your wife has only been dead six months and here you are showing off a pregnant girlfriend." "Well you know that there are very special circumstances." "Yes, I know, but do they? Besides I have no intention of getting married." Mark said nothing more for several minutes. Then he pulled off the road at a rest station. When the car came to a stop he released his seat belt and turned to face me. "I am really sorry that you are upset," he began. "I hadn't realized how it would seem to you, Donna. I felt I had no choice but to take you there. They made me promise, and I knew you would refuse to come if you knew. Those are Susan's parents. I owed it to them to let them meet the woman who is carrying their grandson." I must have looked stunned with the shock of this sudden revelation. I felt tears flow down my cheeks as Mark continued to beg my forgiveness. Through blurry eyes I saw a tear course down his cheek. Reaching over I pulled him to me and clasped his head to my breast as I whispered, "Yes Mark, I forgive you. It must have been terrible for them to see me there, and not even to talk about their daughter. I guess I am partly to blame. I've been so selfish! I keep forgetting that other people have a right to be interested in this baby." The remainder of our trip back was uneventful. Neither of us said anything more about the Thomases, but I began for the first time to think seriously about how I could end my relationship with Mark when the baby was born. Would I be able to just disappear from his life? He would suffer twice; first the loss of his wife; then the loss of his baby. Or could I have the baby and then just give it up. I decided to discuss the matter with Dr. Donne at my next examination. CHAPTER 16 Putting my problem into words for Dr. Donne was the most difficult thing I had tried to do since coming to --- -------. Facing the world disguised as a woman and later facing my parents to explain my circumstances had both been experiences over which I had lost sleep, but somehow I had received emotional support from the Doctor and particularly from Karen, which had helped me to face the inevitable. My problem about Mark was entirely of my own making, and while feelings of guilt overwhelmed me, I was totally unwilling to take personal responsibility for ending the deception. When I had finally blurted out my story toward the end of one of my regular visits, the doctor sat for a few minutes saying nothing. Finally he spoke; "Mark has become very important to you I see." "I don't want him to be hurt. He is the father of this child. It's all so unfair to him." "And you are afraid he will be angry with you when he finds out about your deception?" "I am sure he will hate me." "So you want me to tell him the truth." "Would you, Doctor? I just couldn't bear to see his face when he learns I've been deceiving him." "I'll have to think about it. You run along now and stop worrying. A pregnant woman is supposed to keep her emotions in check, - - - for the sake of the baby. By the way have Karen call me. I need to check with her about how well you are keeping to your diet." My problem was not solved, but I immediately felt somewhat better for having made it someone else's concern as well. On the way home I ordered a pair of initialled cuff links and a matching tie bar to be Mark's Christmas present. Three days later I was called for a special appointment with the doctor. I was surprised to find Karen sitting in his office when I entered. "Come in and sit down, Donna," said Dr. Donne. "Karen and I have been discussing you." When I had settled into a chair he continued. "We think you should know that we are quite worried by your emotional state. If you become too upset at any time it could cause an end to your pregnancy." "You mean I could lose the baby!" "Yes, and if you started spontaneously to have an abortion it would threaten your own life if you didn't have proper medical help immediately. That's why I insisted that Karen accompany you when you went to visit your parents." "Why are you saying this to me now?" "Because I don't want you making any more trips out of town like you did to visit Susan Johnson's parents. Karen tells me you were quite upset when you came back. What we have really decided is that Karen is to stay with you full time for the next several weeks, ...... until the baby is born. That doesn't mean that you can't go to the store or to a movie by yourself, but she will know where you are and you will be able to reach her at least by phone at all times. I can't emphasize too strongly how important it is that we watch you closely from now until you're due. I've thought about confining you to the hospital, but Karen talked me out of it for the moment." "Thank you for that. I guess I can stand having Karen for my guardian angel." The doctor rose and took my arm to help me rise from my chair. As Karen and I were about to leave he added as if it were an afterthought, "Oh, by the way, we have decided not to say anything to Mark until after the birth. Then if you want, you can tell him, or else we will find you a place to live where he won't be able to locate you. Whichever you prefer." CHAPTER 17 The holiday season came and went quietly. Karen and I set up a small artificial tree and Mark was there to help decorate it on Christmas Eve. He escorted us to a hotel for Christmas dinner and we returned to the apartment to exchange gifts. His present for me was a small locket with our pictures inside and our names and the date engraved on the outside. I thanked him with tears running down my cheeks. We three played Scrabble while seeing the New Year in. For the subsequent dinner I took complete charge of the kitchen, refusing all help from either Karen or Mark. Afterwards I let them participate in the clearing up while I basked in their praise for my culinary skills. All in all the period was characterized by a wistfulness that afflicted me whenever I thought of my inevitable parting from Mark. On January 15, I reported to the hospital according to Dr. Donne's instructions accompanied by Karen. I was somewhat indignant at the skimpy supper provided, but was told that my diet had to be limited because of tests planned for the following day. Next morning, with Karen in her uniform at my side, I was wheeled off to what I thought would be a laboratory. I do remember receiving a needle in my arm, but my next memory is of wakening back in my hospital room. Karen stood above me holding a small bundle which she placed in my arms. She rearranged the bundle when I did not seem to be holding it to her satisfaction. Finally my eyes registered that I was staring at a tiny red and wrinkled face. Karen's words, "You have a beautiful baby girl," registered on my senses at the same time. Then I must have drifted off to sleep again. I remember more clearly her words spoken some time later. "Ah, you're awake again. Let's get you sitting up so you can feed the baby." Then the bed was cranked up before someone from the nursery delivered the crying baby back into my arms for my first lesson in feeding her. The process proved awkward to master, and my first effort did not seem to me very successful, but the baby soon fell asleep in my arms and lay there contentedly while I gazed down at her. By the end of my hospital stay her feeding times were to become quiet periods of deep almost mystical satisfaction for me. Later in the day Karen insisted on dressing me in a fresh nightgown, combing my hair and adding a touch of lipstick in preparation for Mark's expected visit. He arrived bringing more flowers to add to those already filling the room, and I lay there languidly reclining as he bent over to plant a kiss on my forehead while Karen hurried off to bring the baby. "Have you decided what to call her?" he asked a few minutes later as he rocked back and forth with the baby in his arms. "What do you think of Susan Karen Stewart?" "Sounds beautiful! The only way it could be improved would be to add Johnson at the end. That would make Susan Karen Stewart Johnson." He smiled down at the baby and addressed her in a soft voice. "Now that you are here, maybe your Mother will consider changing both your names to Johnson." "Oh, Mark, don't talk that way! It's impossible!" I burst out. "Now wait a minute, young lady," Mark replied looking back at me with a determined expression on his face. "I promised not to upset you while you were carrying our baby, but now that Susan is here all bets are off." Then his face relaxed and he looked down again at the baby in his arms and began to croon a lullaby to her. As he was leaving at the end of visiting hours, he held my hands in his while he tenderly kissed me on the lips. Once again I was losing control of the relationship I had come to value so much, but dared not allow to develop. CHAPTER 18 The next day worry about Mark kept me from giving full concentration while Dr. Donne was explaining the current medical situation to me. My attention suddenly became riveted to the subject at hand as I registered the doctor's last remark. He repeated himself for me. "As I have already stated, we decided that this is not the correct time to remove the womb from your body. Consequently the baby was born by a normal Caesarean procedure. We think retention of the womb and ovaries for the present w