Penny sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by stacks of neatly organized notes and textbooks. She had been staring at the blank computer screen for hours, her mind racing with potential topics for her senior biology project. The regional competition was just around the corner, and she knew she needed to choose something special, something that would stand out. Something controversial. Something daring.
She frowned, her brows furrowing above the thick panes of her glasses, which reflected the glow of her laptop. She knew that she wanted to push the boundaries and make a statement with her project. But what? She couldn't experiment with electricity or fire--that was too dangerous, according to her school. Penny didn't understand why--it's not like she wanted the science lab to catch fire when she'd tried to experiment with lightning last year, and she even took all the necessary precautions! Why must those in power always obstruct the advancement of science?
Perhaps something to do with animals? No, that was way too cliche. Everyone and his brother were doing something about animals. Penny scoffed to herself. She wanted to do something truly unique, something that no one had ever thought of before. Something that would make a splash at the regional competition, draw lots of heated debate, and--hopefully--horrify the establishment in the process. Penny was a true believer in the importance of challenging scientific orthodoxy, and she was determined to do just that with her senior project.
If she'd had a boyfriend, she might have gone to him for suggestions and feedback. But Penny didn't date. She'd never had the time or patience for it, and most of the other students at her school found her too...well, strange. They were right, of course. Penny didn't really fit in with the other girls. She was much more interested in discussing the latest scientific breakthroughs and debating the merits of different research methodologies than she was in gossiping about the latest fashion trends or sharing details of her love life. She was also scientifically minded to the point where it sometimes creeped people out, as well as coolly, almost clinically detached from most emotional matters. She very rarely got upset, laughed, cried, or showed much emotion at all. She was also infamous for her blunt, plainspoken way of talking. People often called her rude, but Penny just thought she was being honest. Why beat about the bush or tell lies just to make people feel better?
It wasn't that she had no interest in boys. Penny was an 18-year-old young woman, and she knew more than enough about human biology to know that she was sexually attracted to them. It was just that she'd never felt the need to date anyone. She was much more focused on her studies and her career goals, to say nothing of dating, getting married, or even having babies.
That last thought gave her pause. Babies. Now, that was something. The process of human reproduction was one of the most fascinating subjects in biology, and it was something that she'd never really delved into deeply before. Penny's mind started racing with ideas. She could do something with in vitro fertilization, perhaps? Perhaps a study of sperm motility or egg development? Or maybe she could even explore the ethical implications of genetic engineering.
Slowly, she shook her head. Penny bit her lip in frustration. All those ideas were fascinating to her, but they were also rather advanced and specialized topics. She didn't want to risk making her project too complex or difficult to understand. No, she needed something simpler, something that would still be groundbreaking and controversial, but also accessible to a wider audience. Hmmm...
That's when the idea hit her. What about a study of the reproductive process from start to finish, beginning with fertilization of the egg and continuing right up until the offspring's delivery? It would be ambitious, sure, but Penny was nothing if not ambitious. She'd always been a natural leader, and she knew that she could pull it off. Plus, it would cover a broad range of topics within the field of biology, from genetics and cellular biology to developmental biology and even behavioral science when she analyzed how pregnancy hormones affected a woman's behavior. It would be the perfect project for the regional competition!
But it also posed logistical problems. How and where was she going to find a test subject? She didn't know any women who were trying to get pregnant, and she couldn't use one who'd already been impregnated before the start of the project. Penny thought about asking one of her teachers for help, but she knew they'd probably just refuse or suggest something incredibly boring and uninspired. She could always try posting an ad on the internet, but there were ethical concerns there as well. She didn't want to work with some unscrupulous individual who might try to sell her an embryo or something equally horrifying.
Then a devious thought entered her mind.
Why not have the test subject...be herself?
Penny knew that using herself as the test subject for her senior project would be controversial, to say the least. She also knew that it could potentially be dangerous. There were risks involved in any pregnancy, and she couldn't afford to end up sick or injured, especially since she was going off to college at MIT in the fall. But some of the greatest advancements in science had been made by men and women who, lacking any other option, put their health and even their lives on the line. The invention of the vaccine wouldn't have been possible if doctors hadn't been willing to test the earliest versions of them on themselves, back in the 17th and 18th centuries. How could she do anything less?
Still...this solution posed problems of its own. For one thing, Penny needed to have a plan in place on what to do with the baby once she'd carried it to term. She considered giving it up for adoption, but she knew that the process could take years, and she couldn't afford to wait that long before starting college. And that was assuming she could afford the exorbitant fees involved in the process--but even if she could, there was no guarantee that she'd be able to find a suitable home for her child before she had to start college. Abortion wasn't an option either since she intended to carry the pregnancy to completion. And she couldn't just leave it with her parents, either. They deserved to enjoy their golden years after taking care of and raising her.
The way Penny saw it, if she went through with this, she'd be stuck with the baby for the rest of her life. She wasn't easily intimidated, but that realization gave her serious pause. Could she attend MIT and be a mom at the same time? Could she be a mother at all? Was she suited for it? She knew, in a detached, clinical sense, what motherhood involved: it entailed breast-feeding the child until it was weaned, sheltering it from harm, making sure it received proper nutrition, attending to its medical needs when needed, and ensuring it had the skills it needed to survive in the world. Those were all things that Penny could understand: rational, practical things. But she also knew motherhood involved other things, things far less easy for her to grasp. It involved things like showing love, giving affection, and being emotionally available when the child needed her for things like comfort or playtime. Penny wasn't a very emotional person on her best day--would she even know how to be a mother?
Penny bit her lip in frustration. It couldn't be that hard, surely. Millions of women became mothers every day, and most of them seemed to do just fine even if they got pregnant by accident. Surely, with her intelligence, pragmatism, and scientific background, she could handle motherhood.
Right?
Then there was the question of money. Penny understood the societal contact pregnancy involved: if you had a baby, you needed to provide for it, and that meant expenses like diapers, formula, clothing, and toys. At first, she didn't know where she would find the money to cover those costs, especially since she'd be attending college soon. Her scholarships would likely cover tuition, but not living expenses, and even if they did, she couldn't afford to live on campus and pay for daycare at the same time. The idea of dropping out of school and relying on her parents for support, or on welfare, was abhorrent to her. But then Penny's rational side reasserted itself and she remembered that single moms had plenty of public, freely available resources: Libraries, parks, and community centers were all places where mothers could take their children to play and socialize, and many of them offered free or low-cost programs like story time and arts and crafts. She could cook nutritious meals for herself and the baby from scratch, using affordable ingredients like rice and beans, and essentials like diapers and formula could be acquired at discount stores for a reduced price. As for shelter and housing, she had options there as well: MIT had housing available for students with children that her scholarship would cover, and once she graduated, she could live in an apartment until she could afford a house.
Then there was the societal aspect of it. As a single, unwed mother, Penny knew she could expect a certain of amount illogical, irrational judgment from others. People would talk about her behind her back, speculate about the identity of the father, and wonder aloud why she hadn't "done the right thing" by putting the baby up for adoption. She knew there would be people who would look down on her for "ruining her life" or "being selfish." But Penny had always been fiercely independent and didn't care much about what other people thought anyway. People already talked about her when they thought she couldn't hear all the time. Why care about giving them one more reason?