Even if she reached the end of letters, of roads. Of calendar grids and meals served. Even at the end of the body’s order—the liver’s gather and flush, the heart’s neat applause for itself—still a fogged way tears open. Still four a.m. arrives and the beloved’s place in bed empties ...

— The Jewish Ethnographic Program, 1912 The placenta a clicking projector. Your blood in the theater of mine, reclining. - She looks like you, my mother says of the 20-week sonogram. You’re mostly bones and brain, but maybe that’s all it takes: inheritance settles first in the densest tissue. - ...

We agreed to participate in the study, took the surveys that asked how often during the past week has your baby laughed? and checked the box that said we’d send a sample of everyone’s hair, so researchers could measure cortisol, testosterone, prolactin. So they could determine: during this trial, did ...