A New Breed

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

A New Breed

By Plot Roach

I finally agreed to go to the hospital when the pains were so fierce that I had to brace myself against the bed in a squatting position to keep from passing out. Larry, my husband, bundled up the kids and put them in the car while I pulled out my emergency bag from the hall closet. Having two kids means being ready for any emergency. We’ve had to use the bag three times since the birth of my first son, and I’m glad we keep it stocked and ready. Larry came back for me, shouldering the back and leading me down the stairs of our home like an invalid.

Once at the hospital, Larry had to wait with the kids in the main waiting room because children are not allowed in the emergency room. And I understood this and was a little grateful, since I didn’t want my kids scarred by this, should anything go wrong. But I was more than a bit nervous since I didn’t have Larry by my side.

Once behind the flimsy curtain, the staff were all business: change into this, pee into that, does it hurt when I press here, open up wide and other phrases those in a hospital have long since learned when placed into any emergency situation.

While they were running their tests, the pains got worse. The nurse ordered an ibuprofen and told me that it was the strongest thing that she could give me until they knew what was wrong with me. That little pill was like midget trying to put out a forest fire by pissing on it. The pain wracked my body and felt oddly familiar. But no, it couldn’t be, I told myself. The last time I had felt those pains was when I was giving birth to my youngest son.

The doctors scratched their heads and the nurses flitted about like demonic hummingbirds, everyone acting like they were doing the best that they could and that I was the unreasonable one for being sick with something that they couldn’t pinpoint.

When another wave of pain flowed through me I screamed for the nurse. “I think I’m pregnant and giving birth!”

“How far long are you?”

“I don’t know.” I said. “I didn’t even know that I was pregnant.”

“How can you not know something like that?” she asked.

“Ever see that show about women who didn’t know that they were going to have a baby?” I asked. And while I’m not one of those women who are built like a loveseat, I am a bit husky. But I had had no period to speak of, much less random spotting, since the birth of my youngest son.

“Then how do you know that you’re giving birth?”

“I’ve done it twice in the past two and a half months. I think I know what labor feels like!”

“I think its something else… you’re just dehydrated or something.”

I felt something trickling from between my legs and reached down feel it with my hands. I raised a bloody palm and asked: “Does dehydration do this?” she at least had the decency to run and grab a doctor. But by the time that they returned, the baby’s head was already out. The rest of the birth was relatively swift. My third son weighed in at nine pounds six ounces and had red hair.

Both my husband and I have dark hair. Our first son was born with brown hair, the second with blonde. And now there was a redhead in the family. Now we have a full set, I thought hazily.

A few hours later the doctors came to my bedside with the results of the tests. They were as curious as I had been about my surprise pregnancy. “When was the last time you had sex?” one of them asked.

“I don’t remember.” I said. I was being honest, I really didn’t remember. When you have two kids under the age of three, you’re lucky that you can remember your name, much less the last time you were intimate with someone. As it turns out, they asked Larry the same question. And his answer? We hadn’t, not since our last son had been born. There had been complications from the birth that needed healing. Then, after working full time and chasing after two kids, we were simply too tired for any hanky panky.

So how had I gotten pregnant?

It turns out that the doctors had an answer in the tests that I had undergone: I had an interesting new organ never before seen in human history. A little exploratory surgery proved what they had suspected: I was a “sperm vault”. Much like some insects, I could mate once with my husband and store up his sperm until it was needed to produce further pregnancies without needing to do the deed ever again. I could also somehow alter the DNA in such a way as to provide the maximum variation of my children (thus the different hair colors).

“You’re like a whole new breed of human.” one f the doctors said, his eyes bright with the possibilities.

“Or maybe you’re the next step inhuman evolution.” said another doctor.

My head was still spinning from the news. I would be pregnant for the rest of my child bearing days, having a baby every nine months with one month for the body to recover before becoming pregnant with the next child. Since I was only twenty, this left me with quite a few years left of baby making. And it occurred to me that we were going to need a bigger house -hell, maybe even our own city. Especially if I started having twins.