As if sensing my eager, curious gaze, the doctor spoke without hesitation.

“Sometimes the umbilical cord can cause misinterpretation, but judging from the shape of the fetus’s genitals and the presence of testicles, it’s almost 100% a boy.”

“…Ah, a boy.”

On the ultrasound screen, the fetus’s face seemed to resemble Hyun Woo.

The gift he left behind was a son who looked like him.

After leaving the hospital, I headed to a baby store to prepare for the birth.

Adorable baby crib, diapers, baby blanket, baby shoes, baby clothes… There were so many things to prepare in advance for the birth. The prettier items were that much more expensive.

While expenses were increasing, income was not only not growing, but a time was approaching when I would have to tighten my belt even more.

Infertile couples spend money on artificial insemination for a difficult pregnancy, but for this child conceived from just two acts of love, I decided to think of it as fate given by heaven and accept it as a gift.

When my body was tired and the weight of reality pressed down on me, I would fiddle with my phone countless times, tempted to send him a message, but I convinced myself to get used to my destiny of standing alone.

I knew that a falling bird flapping its wings only looks more pathetic and miserable.

There were moments in life that didn’t change no matter how much strength one used or effort one made, and it seemed there was an unchangeable fate.

As time passed, I began to clearly understand what Hyun Woo’s silent departure to America meant.

It was going radio silent on me, a wordless farewell, an escape from my shackles.

Even when I called him so many times without answer, and at some point felt I had been blocked, I wanted to deny reality, but there was nothing I could do.

Hyun Woo was a person who had gained wings in life upon graduating from S Medical School, and I, holding a child, couldn’t grab the tips of his wings as he tried to fly towards a bright future and make him stumble.

The harsh reality tempted me countless times a day to contact him, but I endured and resolved to keep enduring.

*****

October in Boston colored nature with trees as beautiful as the autumn foliage of Seoraksan.

While there were many nice places in the Boston suburbs, Ha Yeon told Hyun Woo there were spectacular views further north and suggested they go for an outdoor drive.

Hyun Woo, who had met Ha Yeon at Harvard Medical School, rode in her car as they headed to Maine via New Hampshire.

If Korea’s autumn foliage had a quaint charm, Maine’s foliage felt majestic yet overwhelming, perhaps due to the larger scale of the mountains.

As the saying goes, “too much of a good thing,” Hyun Woo felt that even good things, when excessive, can be worse than not enough, as he looked at Maine’s foliage.

He had heard that in life, both love and money could become excessive, but Hyun Woo, who had opened Pandora’s box and was intoxicated by its tempting fragrance, did not know this truth at the time.

“Elder brother, Maine is famous not only for its foliage but also for lobster. Let’s go to the seaside for dinner before heading back.”

“Lobster? I’ve never had it before…”

“There’s lobster dishes in Boston’s Chinatown too, and a famous restaurant called ‘No Name’. Let’s go together at Christmas.”

“S-sure.”

Hyun Woo knew lobster was famous as an expensive dish in Korea and hadn’t tried it, and he hadn’t dared to in America either.

But when he saw that lobster dishes at this nice Maine restaurant cost less than 10,000 won per pound, Hyun Woo was shocked at the price list.

Noticing Hyun Woo’s expression, Ha Yeon said to me:

“Elder brother, it’s incomparably cheaper than in Korea, right?”

“Yeah. At this price, I could eat plenty without burden. Haha.”

Having always been treated to meals and invited to musical performances by Ha Yeon in America, Hyun Woo wanted to pay today.

Hyun Woo had countless experiences in Korea of a man’s pride crumbling because of money.

Due to his incompetent father’s alcoholism, continued accidents, and hospital stays, their small apartment became a jeonse, and even that meant moving to smaller or cheaper places – this was the everyday poverty Hyun Woo remembered from Korea.

Eating meals with friends, drinking, and traveling were luxuries for Hyun Woo.

When dating So Hee, because their impoverished living environments were similar, he felt comfortable meeting at the school library, cafeteria, or convenience store without hurting his pride.

He never even thought of going to nice cafes or study cafes, and there was no need to set the mood over a beer.

But when meeting Ha Yeon in Boston, the burden in his heart always weighed on Hyun Woo.

Hyun Woo’s bank account still held the 30 million won the lady had given as a success fee, but he wasn’t comfortable touching that money that felt like emergency funds.

Even when famous Broadway musicals he was familiar with from Korean ads like “Cats” or “Phantom of the Opera” came to perform in Boston, Ha Yeon would buy tickets for them to see together, but he wasn’t comfortable.

As Hyun Woo tried to boldly buy lobster dinner for once, Ha Yeon said:

“Elder brother, I have mom’s card, so don’t feel burdened when dating me.”

“Still, I should pay sometimes too so I can feel comfortable.”

“Elder brother, why do we need to feel that kind of burden between us?”

Sometimes the consideration or sympathy of those who have can hurt the pride and fragile hearts of those who don’t.

Even the same words can easily break or scratch the glass-like hearts of those without.

While fully understanding Ha Yeon’s heart, Hyun Woo felt hurt.

He knew what she meant by saying there was no need to feel burdened in their relationship.

On July 4th, American Independence Day, they had shared their first kiss by the Charles River, and Ha Yeon had clearly stated that Hyun Woo was the special recipient of her first kiss.

And a month ago, after gaining her father’s tacit approval and mother’s support during their visit, Ha Yeon expressed her love for Hyun Woo with more certainty.

“Elder brother, after meeting you, dad spoke really well of you to mom. My dad used to habitually say I shouldn’t get married and should live with him…”

“I’m grateful your father viewed me favorably.”

“So don’t feel too burdened about using mom’s card.”

“I’ll pay for this much today. Your elder brother gets a salary from his advisor.”

Perhaps not wanting to further hurt Hyun Woo’s pride, Ha Yeon allowed him to pay for the lobster dinner.

After returning from leaf peeping with Ha Yeon, the days of doctoral studies proceeded monotonously but intensely.

Research in the lab was competition among postdocs and doctoral students in one space, and on days when research project results were presented, everyone gathered to fully feel the “peer pressure.”

Not only the advisor’s sharp critiques, but also colleagues’ pointed questions always made Hyun Woo tense, and the occasional words of praise made the day happy.

While Ha Yeon’s English literature doctoral program focused on self-struggle and collaboration with the advisor, Hyun Woo’s medical doctoral program centered entirely on research data creativity, reproducibility, and accurate mechanisms.

Data accumulated in proportion to time investment and effort, and the more time spent coming up with creative ideas and pondering mechanisms, the better the research quality became.

Hyun Woo felt himself becoming addicted to alcohol addiction research, and tried to find solace in it by seeking answers about his father’s life.

He thought if he could understand why his father became so addicted to alcohol and ruined his life, he might be able to save many children who had fallen into the same fate.

Hyun Woo spent his first autumn in Boston immersed in research like that.

*****

On October 12th, I started maternity leave.

My whole body became plump and round, and my skin color changed to a rosy hue.

On my last day of work before maternity leave, knowing it would lead directly into childcare leave, my colleagues’ gazes and gloomy expressions felt painful.

Understanding what difficult work and stress my absence would cause them, I slipped out of the hospital without properly saying goodbye, feeling apologetic.

I had heard and seen about pregnancy and childbirth in nursing school classes and practicums, but experiencing childbirth myself was a different dimension.

As my weight increased by over 10kg from normal, even walking and sitting became painful times that continued.

They say a 9-month fetus weighs about 2.3kg, but combined with the weight of amniotic fluid and changes in my body, it protruded a huge mountain in front of my belly, and fierce changes like volcanic flames from that mountain were occurring inside me.

The occasional heavy movements of the baby’s hands and feet felt like volcanic lava sweeping through my body massively.

Returning to the obstetrics clinic, they explained that the baby was well-positioned for delivery and that natural childbirth would proceed without need for a C-section.

The doctor also checked in advance whether I would get an epidural.

I said I would have a natural birth without an epidural.

The doctor reconfirmed my decision, puzzled since most mothers choose epidurals, but I clearly stated again that I would not get an epidural injection.

It wasn’t at all because I was worried about the 5% of patients who have side effects from epidurals.

I remembered the obstetrics professor explaining in class and practicum that epidurals are only properly effective and without side effects if administered by a skilled doctor.

I remembered that epidurals can only be given when the cervix is dilated about 4cm, and that the experience of a skilled doctor is important for epidural anesthesia.

However, I wanted to feel exactly the same labor pains my mother felt when giving birth to me.

To understand my mother better and remember that love, I wanted to feel the same flesh-tearing sensation she experienced.

My mother always talked about her experience that day as if it happened yesterday. The agony of labor that lasted a full 10 hours…

And there was one more reason I didn’t get an epidural that I couldn’t tell even my mother.

I loved Hyun Woo and am having his child, but now I wanted to erase the lingering attachment in my heart.

I wanted to stop the days of writing and erasing text messages and emails I wanted to send him every day.

I loved him without regret and still love him now, but I wanted to let go of those feelings and find peace of mind.

He left cruelly and coldly without a word, but I wanted to release the thread of connection I was still grasping like a straw in my heart, for his sake.

The farewell in my heart won’t be easy in proportion to how much I love him, but in the pain of my flesh bursting and tearing, I wanted to send him away and bring the child he gave me into the world.

It would be a farewell that no one else in this world could understand, but that’s how I wanted to send him off.

The time of parting was approaching.