Not My Daughter

better. If we rule out other possible problems, we can concentrate on the CDH. Amnio entails a small risk, though, so perhaps you'd like to think about it.'

Susan knew that the doctor's request wasn't an idle one. More than one of the articles she had read mentioned that a fetus with CDH often had other abnormalities.

With Lily bewildered and silent, Susan said, 'How soon can it be done?'

Lily was grief-stricken. The plan had been to get pregnant, breeze through nine months like she'd breezed through AP bio, and pop out a healthy baby. Other people had physical problems, but not her, because her mother hadn't. Weren't these things hereditary?

But the doctor was telling them they had to wait and see, her baby may or may not need surgery, may or may not be normal, may or may not live-and her mother had gone ahead and scheduled a test Lily did not want to take.

She let Susan hold her hand until they left the building, but her resentment was building. Stopping halfway to the parking lot, she snatched her hand free and turned on Susan. 'How could you agree to that, Mom? Amniocentesis can lead to miscarriage, which would be fine with you-you don't want this baby-but I do, and I don't want amniocentesis.' When Susan reached for her, she stepped back. 'This is my baby. I told you that. I make the decisions.'

'There's a reason why the doctor wants it, Lily.'

'To rule out other problems, but what other problems could there be? Isn't this one bad enough?' Internal organs in the wrong place? It was freaking her out. 'I don't want amniocentesis. How could you schedule it without asking me? I was sitting right there!'

'Lily. I looked at you. You had a chance to speak but didn't.'

'I couldn't. I was too upset. Don't you think this is a shock, Mom?'

'Absolutely,' Susan said with annoying calm, pulling her aside for another family to pass, 'but you're still my child, and I made the best decision I could. Amniocentesis will tell us something.'

That was what frightened Lily. Her voice shook. 'What if it tells us my baby is really sick?' Her eyes filled with tears. 'I read online, too, Mom. What if it has other, really awful things wrong with it? What'll I do then?' Suddenly sobbing, she let Susan hold her. She was terrified.

Even when she stopped crying, her mother didn't let go. In a calm voice that Lily hated but desperately needed to hear, Susan said, 'We'll deal, sweetie. We'll deal.'

Lily wanted to believe her. But she wasn't a child, she was having a child. She had to be realistic. 'What if it's so awful that my baby won't be able to live?'

Smiling gently, her mother brushed tears from her cheeks. 'Let's take it one step at a time. If you don't want the amnio, we'll cancel it.'

That put the burden on her. Which was what Lily wanted. Except that her mother had really, really good judgment. 'You think we should do it.'

'Yes. The risk is less at your age. It'll be even less if we use someone who does amnio all the time. Good news will definitely make the waiting easier.'

'What if it's bad news?'

'We'll deal.'

'You keep saying that, but it could mean anything,' Lily said, tearing up again. 'Not in a million years could I terminate this pregnancy. This is my child. I don't care what's wrong with him. Miracles happen, don't they?'

'They do-but why are you expecting the worst? We have never lived like pessimists.'

'We've never faced something like this. Why did this happen? What did I do wrong? Was it deciding to have a baby without telling the father? Without telling you? I mean, people my age have babies all the time, and they're healthy. Was it sports? I was playing field hockey while his diaphragm was forming. Maybe I ran too hard, or fell and the impact tore something.'

Even before she finished speaking, Susan was shaking her head. 'I don't think that's how it happens.'

'Then how did it?' Lily asked. She needed an explanation.

'It was a quirk of nature.'

'Survival of the fittest? But why isn't my baby the fittest?'

'It may be.'

'My baby was supposed to be perfect!'

'Your baby is.'

A mother had to be strong for her child, which was why Susan still didn't call Rick. She knew that if she heard his voice, she would lose it.

But she had to do something and returning to school wasn't it. Rather, she hit the highway for Portland and, determined to raise Lily's spirits, ushered her to their favorite Old Port restaurant. Lily claimed she wasn't hungry, but when Susan reminded her that the baby needed feeding more than ever, she downed corn chowder and a chicken sandwich. Afterward, they went shopping, and here Lily was cautious.

'We don't know what'll happen,' she said, looking at the price tag of the jeans Susan held.

'We do,' Susan replied with confidence and led her to a fitting room. Two hours, three stores, and a fortune later, Lily had a maternity wardrobe befitting the luckiest pregnant teen. Susan knew that clothes weren't the answer, but they helped. Lily's spirits were better-though she still didn't call Mary Kate or Jess. This development set her apart. Her phone remained off in her pocket. Exhausted, she slept through the drive home.

Having been awake with her much of the night before, Susan was exhausted, too. But she had to catch up on some calls during the drive. This was the second day in a row that she was missing school. The timing couldn't have been worse.

Susan did what she could from the car to reschedule appointments she had missed, and then, back home, she followed Lily's lead and ignored the phone. Together, they made room in the closet for Lily's new things, and when Lily picked up the sweater she'd been making for a daughter, they talked knitting.

When Lily asked what she should knit for a boy, Susan said boys needed sweaters, too, and when Lily turned up her nose at designs involving trains or trucks, Susan suggested cables. They spent a while looking at patterns online.

Were they in denial? Absolutely. But the alternative was worse.

After dinner, Susan sent Lily off to study. Life doesn't stop. You have exams in January. Yes, it does matter, even if you're going to Percy State. You can't let your grades slide.

Lily went upstairs, leaving Susan to think about college, which might have to be postponed if the baby was sick. PC KidsCare couldn't take a sick child, and, besides, Lily wouldn't want to leave the baby there if he had special needs. Mention of special needs sparked a new round of worries. Susan's health insurance was good, but was it good enough? Special education in Zaganack was good, but, again, was it good enough? And what did she know of Jane LaBreia, beyond an impressive wall of diplomas? And hospitals? The local one didn't have an NICU, which was a must for CDH babies. Most of them had surgery at birth-and Lily would have a cesarean herself, which meant a longer recovery.

By the time Susan drove back to school for the Christmas concert, she had worked herself into a panic. Had it not been for the likes of Evan Brewer, George Abbott, and Duncan Haith, she might have stayed home, but making a public appearance seemed crucial. She chatted, she smiled, she moved through the crowd, and made it through three-quarters of the program before slipping out. While she shivered in the cold waiting for her car to heat up, her panic returned.

That was when she called Rick, and while she thought she would be the one to lose it, he was. Why didn't you call me yesterday? I'm her father! Do not treat this casually, Susan. It's a serious problem. The barrage of questions that followed were more detailed than she could answer, and she grew more upset-the upshot of which was that Rick grew more calm. No sweat, honey, he finally said. I'll get the answers. This is my specialty.

She listened. She believed. She was actually feeling better by the time she got home, which was when she called Kate.