Here and Now and Then

by Mike Chen

“The first year of parenting, you hold on for dear life. Nothing can prepare you for it. It’s like entering a different world. And then you adapt. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, especially the beginning. And it’s also probably the best. You know what’s funny,” he said, picking up and examining the injections, “we have it so much better here because of these. As parents, I mean. Living to two hundred. Back then you really had to choose between career and family. Even if you balance both, usually there was always one side asking for more.” Bedroom light bounced off the syringe’s chrome casing, and the reflection of Kin’s eye came through surprisingly clear. “Heather always joked about ‘if only we lived twice as long.’ We didn’t plan on Miranda. It just happened when Heather was in law school. We improvised. If she had had metabolizers, all that stress would have gone away. So we’re lucky, you know? You can choose kids and your career or your second career or whatever. You can open your restaurant, then have a baby or vice versa. Or do them at the same time. Heather didn’t have that choice.”