Sophia sits in a booth in a dimly lighted Chinese restaurant, reluctantly talking about the details of her life. She is beyond tired, as she has been for several months, and as she is likely to be for several more. The weathered brown of her hair, the weary brown shadows under her eyes, even the muted brown of her maternity dress over her very pregnant lap, all of these things somehow magnify her exhaustion.
It is a Friday night, and she did not leave the office until nearly 6:30, working until the last moment, tying up the loose ends in her high-powered job. On Monday, she will have a Caesarean section, which she scheduled months ago because her doctor did not think her body could withstand the rigors of labor. She will be in the operating room with just an obstetrician, a pediatrician and a nurse. There will be no spouse, no partner, because she has none; she is planning to rear her child alone. There will be no friends or family at the hospital, either. She fiercely believes that her most unusual pregnancy is nobody else’s business.
”People look at me and say, ‘How are you doing?”’ she says, rubbing her belly where it all but meets the table — the protective, absent-minded gesture of so many pregnant women. ”I say: ‘I’m doing fine. I am O.K.”’ READ MORE