07-21-2023, 08:12 PM
Babies, and Babies, and Babies
“I want to keep it,” Natasha Robinson informed her mother. They were in their new house in Eiria, in the suburbs of Geminus. It was smaller than their home back in Kerlile, but it was more than sufficient for the four – soon to be five, it seemed – Kerlians.
“You know I will support whatever decision you make,” Carmen replied. She’d only been 20 when she’d conceived Natasha, so she was hardly one to talk. Before their exile, the Robinson family had considered it safer to produce an heir early – before the Pierre family could assassinate the sitting Councillor.
“Thanks, Mum,” Natasha said, smiling briefly before her pensive expression returned. “Will the Zongongians do anything, do you think?”
“I’ll be honest, Natasha, I don’t know,” Carmen sighed. “As you’ve seen, they have a strange history with such things. Our family history with them won’t help. And then there’s the potential for racism too.”
“That was the weirdest part, when Imogen and I first went to Zongongia,” Natasha confessed. “It’s probably why I ended up getting so close to Kristofer: everyone else was making these comments that I didn’t really understand.”
“For all our flaws, Kerlile has done well in stamping out racism for the most part. Zongongia has barely even tried,” Carmen shook her head. “So, are you sure about the baby?”
“Yes,” Natasha nodded firmly.
“It won’t be as easy as it would be in Kerlile,” Carmen warned. “There is likely a lot of stigma attached to being a teenage mother here, though I don’t know to what extent.”
“I don’t care, I want to keep the baby,” Natasha replied.
“As I say, it’s entirely your decision.”
*
President Rebecca Arnott of Kerlile walked along the corridor of the fertility clinic, smiling to herself following the good news. The doctors had informed her that her own frozen eggs were indeed viable, and she had no health issues that would automatically produce any complications. Therefore, she could indeed go ahead with the IVF process. Now, she just needed to work out how to tell her daughter that she was so uncertain of her survival that she felt the need to produce a spare at the age of 46.
“Mother? What are you doing here?”
The President froze in her step, staring at her daughter. Was this real, or a hallucination brought on by her thoughts? No, it was real.
“Oh, Rosemary, I, uh…” Rebecca was normally more articulate than this. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured it was time for me to start thinking about having a daughter, especially given the precariousness of our society just now. We are four days away from Jennifer Hale handing control of the Council back to the Women’s Party with her plan to leave the country; and I know the others won’t act against me if I’m pregnant. Did someone tell you I was here?” Rosemary asked.
“No, uh,” Rebecca blushed. “I was just, uh…”
“Madam President, you forgot your prescription,” a doctor appeared around the corner and handed the aforementioned prescription to Rebecca.
“Uh, Mum? Are you here for the same reason I am?” Rosemary asked. “Just saying; this is a fertility clinic so why would you be getting meds here unless you were planning to have a baby?”
“Rosemary, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this sooner. Please believe me, this is nothing to do with you; I just…”
“It’s fine, you’re worried I’m going to go and get myself killed.”
“Rosemary…”
“I’m not offended,” the Councillor reassured the President. “Why would I be? I’m literally worried about the exact same thing. I know fine well I’ve made enemies.”
The pair looked at each other awkwardly for a few moments. The staff noticed the situation and quickly cleared out the adjacent corridors, not wanting to get involved in one of those notoriously tense Council situations.
“So…” Rosemary asked eventually. “You still going to go through with it?”
“I, uh, already have,” Rebecca confessed.
“Cool,” her daughter nodded. “Cool. Um, well. I should, uh, get back to work.”
“Right, yes, so should I,” the President agreed.
The pair quickly walked to the exit and went their separate ways; their heads spinning. If they were both successful in their treatment, and the resulting babies were female, then it seemed that aunt and niece would end up growing up together. Which was going to be entirely too awkward.
“I want to keep it,” Natasha Robinson informed her mother. They were in their new house in Eiria, in the suburbs of Geminus. It was smaller than their home back in Kerlile, but it was more than sufficient for the four – soon to be five, it seemed – Kerlians.
“You know I will support whatever decision you make,” Carmen replied. She’d only been 20 when she’d conceived Natasha, so she was hardly one to talk. Before their exile, the Robinson family had considered it safer to produce an heir early – before the Pierre family could assassinate the sitting Councillor.
“Thanks, Mum,” Natasha said, smiling briefly before her pensive expression returned. “Will the Zongongians do anything, do you think?”
“I’ll be honest, Natasha, I don’t know,” Carmen sighed. “As you’ve seen, they have a strange history with such things. Our family history with them won’t help. And then there’s the potential for racism too.”
“That was the weirdest part, when Imogen and I first went to Zongongia,” Natasha confessed. “It’s probably why I ended up getting so close to Kristofer: everyone else was making these comments that I didn’t really understand.”
“For all our flaws, Kerlile has done well in stamping out racism for the most part. Zongongia has barely even tried,” Carmen shook her head. “So, are you sure about the baby?”
“Yes,” Natasha nodded firmly.
“It won’t be as easy as it would be in Kerlile,” Carmen warned. “There is likely a lot of stigma attached to being a teenage mother here, though I don’t know to what extent.”
“I don’t care, I want to keep the baby,” Natasha replied.
“As I say, it’s entirely your decision.”
*
President Rebecca Arnott of Kerlile walked along the corridor of the fertility clinic, smiling to herself following the good news. The doctors had informed her that her own frozen eggs were indeed viable, and she had no health issues that would automatically produce any complications. Therefore, she could indeed go ahead with the IVF process. Now, she just needed to work out how to tell her daughter that she was so uncertain of her survival that she felt the need to produce a spare at the age of 46.
“Mother? What are you doing here?”
The President froze in her step, staring at her daughter. Was this real, or a hallucination brought on by her thoughts? No, it was real.
“Oh, Rosemary, I, uh…” Rebecca was normally more articulate than this. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured it was time for me to start thinking about having a daughter, especially given the precariousness of our society just now. We are four days away from Jennifer Hale handing control of the Council back to the Women’s Party with her plan to leave the country; and I know the others won’t act against me if I’m pregnant. Did someone tell you I was here?” Rosemary asked.
“No, uh,” Rebecca blushed. “I was just, uh…”
“Madam President, you forgot your prescription,” a doctor appeared around the corner and handed the aforementioned prescription to Rebecca.
“Uh, Mum? Are you here for the same reason I am?” Rosemary asked. “Just saying; this is a fertility clinic so why would you be getting meds here unless you were planning to have a baby?”
“Rosemary, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this sooner. Please believe me, this is nothing to do with you; I just…”
“It’s fine, you’re worried I’m going to go and get myself killed.”
“Rosemary…”
“I’m not offended,” the Councillor reassured the President. “Why would I be? I’m literally worried about the exact same thing. I know fine well I’ve made enemies.”
The pair looked at each other awkwardly for a few moments. The staff noticed the situation and quickly cleared out the adjacent corridors, not wanting to get involved in one of those notoriously tense Council situations.
“So…” Rosemary asked eventually. “You still going to go through with it?”
“I, uh, already have,” Rebecca confessed.
“Cool,” her daughter nodded. “Cool. Um, well. I should, uh, get back to work.”
“Right, yes, so should I,” the President agreed.
The pair quickly walked to the exit and went their separate ways; their heads spinning. If they were both successful in their treatment, and the resulting babies were female, then it seemed that aunt and niece would end up growing up together. Which was going to be entirely too awkward.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax