Every kick, a reminder: in post-Roe California, a painful wait before ending a wanted pregnancy
This is part of a series of snapshots from post-Roe America.
He loved peaches. He loved ice cream. He loved blueberry waffles, evenly gridded, which she’d pulled from the crinkly package in the freezer and popped in the toaster to eat on her way to work. L. knew all this from the way he moved, the way he made her sick. His name was Kai. He was due on December 18. The first time he kicked was while she drank a chocolate milkshake on National Ice Cream Day. The one morning she went without waffles was the most nauseous day of her entire pregnancy; she knew Kai wasn’t pleased.
