Plenty of Love (slightly NSFW)

I gaze at my children with all the adoration of a mother. More of them are girls than are not, as is common with families like ours; that is not to say our family is abnormal, nor normal. These are not words that are used much anymore.

I have read history books from when the Era without Shock began. Three hundred years ago, no person was shocked by new technology, but there were no families like ours. Now, in the Era without Advances, there is no new technology, but we have no need of it. No one realised the long period of technological advancement was over until about a decade after it had stopped. Our nation, indeed our world, is as perfect as it could be.

All are accepted. In the EWS, some people were not accepted or treated as highly as others. People with brown skin, no money, or orange hair were ostracized, and before that some were killed for their religious beliefs. That ended slowly, and now all are free to love whoever they like, be whoever they like. There is no crime, for each person wants for only what the Earth cannot give us. There is nothing one person can have that others can’t.

My wife is in the kitchen. I can hear her beginning the preparation for our evening meal. Our children can hear it too, and the youngest of them already reach for me to hold them to my breast for feeding. Our husbands are out at their prospective state duties. They will come home before dinner. They have been given jobs by the state as I would have been, were I not the chief child-carer in our family. The state recognises all family structures, unlike the early years of the EWS and before.

One of my daughters, Rosey, calls for me. She is biologically mine, unlike some of the others, and has the curly hair of her other mother. Half a century ago, technology was released that allows same sex couples to parent children together. My daughter has 12 brothers and sisters, not all biologically mine, but all are full siblings.

Rosey is nine. I teach our children, while my wife and husbands perform their duties to the state, she for half the day until she returns to us, and they for the whole day. I have been teaching the older children about our history, how all kinds of families are good, but Rosey and her siblings already understand. They have two mummies and two daddies. I pick up Dorian, baby son of my wife and husband, and cradle him while he cries for my breast milk. “Not now, sweetie,” I mutter to him, and caress his head, before picking up his twin brother, Donny, who is mine.

They are all mine, really; all are ours between the four of us. Our family structure has been common for a century, perhaps even more. The twins on my hips stroke my swollen belly while I think of my husband’s equally large mass. This too, males carrying children, has been commonplace for decades. We are a large family, but there are plenty parents to go around. The eldest, Mickey, is now 16, a man under the law of our Earth. I leave the children, most having finished their homework, with him. He has my eyes and gazes at his siblings with as much affection as I do. He’ll be a child-carer when he has his own family.

Penelope is waiting when I get to the kitchen, and she smiles at the three of us, and kisses us each. “Homework all done?”

I nod, smiling. She is so beautiful, my darling wife, and my husbands so handsome. I kiss her again and she takes Donny, helping him to grip a spoon with a tiny fist and stir one of the dishes. It takes her hours to prepare our meals, but she loves it. She has some of the older children to help, too.

Penelope touches my brown cheek and I her pale one. “Perry and Aaron will be home soon.” I nod again.

I go back to my history book. I have a lot of time to learn, for we have good children who need little instruction nor punishment. I am teaching them Mandarin, now, and the younger ones are catching up with some of the other languages we’ve learnt together; Spanish, English, and some of the ancient ones that were common a few centuries ago. I have looked at others, but I mostly stick to the largest spoken around the world for now. We have even looked at some ancient French and German.

Throughout the day, I have visitors, some of the neighbours choose to leave their youngest children with me because they know I have experience. Not many citizens can avoid state duties. We do not live in a time of plenty, despite our technological prowess. Many families have moved to other planets to see if it is easier there, but I have heard not. Our planet does not have enough, but we are happy. We have plenty of happy.

My first husband, Aaron, comes home first. He has been working in construction all day; we all need more land, and the strongest of us are given duties building it, Aaron among them. He kisses me and Dorian, and the baby pushes his daddy away. “You need a shower,” I laugh, and he looks at me with a particular eye.

As Aaron strokes our unborn child, I am reminded of its conception; I can see it in his eye as he suggests I take a shower with him. I quickly cover Dorian’s ears jokily. “Leave him with Mickey, he can handle it,” Aaron says huskily, tugging my hand.

I do not have time to answer, as Perry breezes in. He greets us with a knowing smile and rests his hands on his own stomach, Aaron’s other unborn. That man was busy 6 months ago, I think with a smile. Perry takes Dorian and goes to finish checking homework, a teacher through and through, and I allow myself to be pulled towards the bathroom.

Aaron loves my swollen form most, and strokes my long hair as it falls down my back in a waterfall fashion. He is strong, and lifts me up onto him, almost unbelievably. I allow myself to sink onto him and into a familiar situation, filled with joy and love. I love all my partners, but Aaron the most at this moment. His blonde hair looks dark in the water, as do his eyes as he moans my name. “Anna…”

Finally, we leave the wetness. I prepare the children for their meal, the older children sat together and the younger ones with me. My wife fills plates while my husbands hand them out, and we all eat together and tell each other of our days. Mealtimes are chaotic, but we love it, and we love each other. That is the most important thing.

We do not live in a time of plenty, but we want for nothing. We are happy and we have plenty of love.