Chapter 1
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters and
places are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is merely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Harlie Smith
All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be reproduced in any form
or used in any manner whatsoever without the
express written consent of the publisher except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Prologue
People love to prepare you for pregnancy, telling you how much work it could be and the joys of it too. But no one prepares you for the day you visit the doctor to hear the baby’s heartbeat; the most magical sound, which brings so much happiness.
They can’t explain the excitement that intensifies as the doctor conducts the ultrasound...and they definitely don’t prepare you for the shocking discovery that silences the room. There’s no baby in the womb. Confusion sets in, nearly dissipating any positive feeling. The baby has been growing in the fallopian tube; an ectopic pregnancy. But that’s okay, right? As long as the baby is healthy.
No.
No one word can truly express the waves of pain that crash over you—the gut-wrenching, heart-shattering emotions that tear through you—when you’re told your baby will not survive. You beg for them to let it live. You plead, and say it’s okay if you lose your life as long as the baby doesn’t. But no one listens. This is a medical emergency, and immediate surgery is required.
The next piece of news isn’t at all redemptive. If anything, it’s just as worse as the last. When you learn you’re incapable of doing the main thing you were created for, your life changes forever. It’s not hard to feel useless, worthless. It’s not hard to wonder why you’re not good enough. But it is difficult to believe in miracles now, to have faith any longer.
Gone Forever
The orange leaves crunched under my feet as I walked along the road. It wouldn’t be long before I'd reach my destination, but somehow it seemed light-years away.
Maybe it was because I didn’t want to go. Though it was my decision to hold the ceremony, I didn’t want to see my baby lying in a casket, see the people around me cry as if they knew my pain.
Still, I had to go. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t? My one and only child was gone forever, the least I could do was be there one last time.
Stepping toward the cemetery, thoughts of other options crossed my mind. But they were unrealistic. Could I really expect someone to allow me to adopt, expect them to hand a baby over to a girl like me; twenty-four, working a minimum wage job, with no spouse. Not likely. And coming up with more than ten-grand for the IVF procedure would take many, many years of saving. Besides, no matter what, this baby could never be replaced anyway.
As I neared the overwhelming group of grieving people, an unexplainable guilt engulfed me. Had my body not failed, none of this would have happened. It was my fault. I’m the creator of these tears, of this pain.
What have I done?
The thought of running away was so powerful now; running and never looking back. But my feet forced themselves to the ground. I had to stay.
One Year Later
The coffee shop near work became my go-to place for conversation. I’d deleted all my social media accounts because seeing pregnancy announcements and newborn babies was too much to bear. And the friends I’d once had seemed to have moved forward with their lives, while I was stuck in the past. The employees here never had issues with talking to me though, or helping me through the day.
Each visit to the coffee shop was similar to the last. But for the past week I had noticed something out of the ordinary. A middle-aged lady who always sat at the round table by the window. She kept watching me, I couldn’t pinpoint her interest in me, but I wasn’t too worried.
Today marked the eighth occurrence of this awkward encounter. She made her way inside and rubbed her hands together, warming them before she took her seat. I waited for the moment when she’d plop the parenting magazine down onto the table, get up to order her drink and return to her seat. She’d hold the magazine up then. Her eyes would peek over it every few minutes, and make their way to me.
The events played out today the exact way they had everyday before. And instead of shaking it off this time, the urge to approach her forced me to my feet. Being shy, it was rare to see me speak to someone I didn’t know. But there I was stepping toward her.
I gestured at the chair across from her. “Is this seat taken?”
She shook her head, shifting her eyes between me and the magazine.
“I’ve noticed you watching me lately...” I blurted as I sat.
“I remember you. From Dr. Pelton’s office.” she said, laying the magazine down. “My name’s Mary.”
I looked away from her, trying to remember her too. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she muttered, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for what happened.”
“For what happened?” I questioned, though I already knew.
“The miscarriage,” she whispered as if the word were forbidden.
With no response, I picked at the rip in my jeans and waited for her to continue.
“I hope you’re doing all right,” she said finally, breaking the silence between us.
I gave her a quick nod. “I’m doing good as I can be.”
Our attention shifted simultaneously to the door as it swung open. In walked a woman resting her hand on her basketball shaped belly as she waddled toward the counter. I didn’t have to look at Mary to know her eyes were burning through me now, examining my expression. Seeing pregnant women did something to my soul these days; I was angry and envious.
Was I wrong for that? It felt wrong. There was a guilt that accompanied these feelings of bitterness. I guess I was mad because they were capable of something I wasn’t. But I had to remind myself it wasn’t their fault.
When the pregnant woman disappeared from view, I redirected my gaze to Mary. She was still staring at me, with a thoughtful look in her eyes.
“I bet it’s hard for you to see that,” she said.
Seriously? As if I weren’t angry enough already.
“You think?” I glared at her. “It’s always hard to see.”
She nodded slowly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I lied.
“Had I not come in here like this every day, you wouldn’t know me from Adam, but I’d be happy to offer you someone to talk to. I’ve been curious about you since that day…”
I studied her as I wondered what she would possibly gain from listening to me blab. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“I didn’t get your name,” she said as I began to leave the table.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I’m Kelsey.”
“Well it was very nice to meet you, Kelsey. Maybe I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
I walked away from the table after giving her a short wave. Even after leave the coffee shop, Mary’s face was etched into my brain. What did she want from me?
***
A few days later, I found myself in a similar scenario with Mary. We sat at the same round table together. She had brought me gift basket of things such as body lotions and perfume. Maybe she pitied me. I guess that wasn’t hard to do. But accepting her gift made me feel shameful. Was she trying to make me feel better about my incompetent body?
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the gift and disregarding my feelings.
“You’re welcome,” she responded, with a smile.
I sat the basket next to my feet when she left the table to order drinks, then awaited her return.
“So.” She handed me the warm cup of tea and took her seat. “How are you doing?”
I took a sip of my tea before responding. “I’m okay. You?”
“My son, Bradley, stared day care this morning, so I’m a bit of a mess. But other than that, I’m fine.”
“Oh,” I muttered.
“We’re practically strangers, so I hope you don’t feel odd when I ask this, but would you like to meet my son?”
My confused expression was easy to read. “Why would you want me to meet your son?”
“Well, I—I thought maybe you’ d like to.”
I rolled my eyes, feeling completely disrespected.
“I’m sorry I asked,” she said sincerely.
My heart fluttered as I pictured meeting her son, and interacting with him. There was a part of me that desperately wanted to be in the presence of a child, but I knew deep down it would spark the pain (not that it had really ever gone away), and rekindle the memory of my baby again.
“Are you able to try again?” she asked.
You’re just full of questions, I thought. Becoming angry at the thought of the answer to her question.
“I’m unable to get pregnant.” I answered finally.
There was an undeniable sadness radiating from her, sincere empathy. “I’m so sorry, Kelsey,” she took a quick drink of her coffee. “Have you thought about adoption?”
I chuckled. “There’s no way I’d be able to adopt in my current situation.”
She nodded, as if she understood. “What about a surrogate?”
“A surrogate?” I questioned.
“Someone who carries your baby for you and—”
“I know what it is,” I interrupted. “But it’s like what more than a hundred thousand dollars for something like that?”
“It can be pretty pricey.”
“There’s no way I’d be able to afford that right now. I probably never could.”
She rolled up her sleeves and pulled a small bottle of lotion from her bag. “I’m sorry for asking questions,” she said as she began to apply lotion to her hands.
“That’s okay.”
I watched her as she rubbed the lotion in before trading the bottle for her cell phone.
“Do you mind if I take your phone number?”
Peering at her, I chewed my lip. She seemed like a genuine person; I was only put off by the way she showed such compassion for someone she didn’t know.
“Sure.”
After entering my number into her phone, she said goodbye and left the coffee shop. I was left with questions about her intentions. And tons of undefined feelings.
An Unexpected Offer
It had been nearly a week since I’d last seen Mary, I hadn’t heard from her at all. So, when my phone rang, and showed a number I didn’t recognize, she was the first person I thought of.
“Hello,” I answered.
Mary’s voice came loudly through the phone. “Kelsey?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hi, it’s Mary.”
“Hi,” I responded, curious about why she was calling.
“I have to take Bradley at daycare, but would you be able to meet me at the coffee shop around, say, nine-thirty?”
I pulled my phone from my ear to check the time, it was a quarter ’till nine and I hadn’t even showered yet today. “Uh, that should be fine.”
“Great,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”
“See you then.”
I ran to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes and got into the shower. There was no time to enjoy the warmth of the water, so I washed my hair and body quickly, then shut the water off. I got out, brushed my teeth, threw on clean clothes, and ran a comb through my hair. Finally, I slipped on my shoes and began walking to the coffee shop.
It was nine-thirty-five when I pulled the door open. Mary was sitting with a folder in front of her, and a smile on her face.
“Hi,” she greeted me as I approached.
I smiled and sat across from her.
“I was thinking about what you said when we spoke last time, about surrogacy and how expensive it is. What would you say if I told you I knew someone who would do it completely free of charge?”
I peered at her. “Why would anyone do that?”
She grinned. “Maybe they want to help someone, give someone a precious gift. What do you say?”
“Is it you?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But isn’t there, like, other costs associated with it?”
“Of course, but I’ve spoken to my husband and we have agreed to cover all related expenses.”
My eyes grew wide as her words sunk it.
“Here,” she said, pushing the folder toward me. “This is everything you’d need to know. Kelsey, I’d be honored to give you this gift.”
I stared at the folder as tears formed in my eyes. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it, and let me know what you decide.”
A tear rolled down my check as I gave her a quick nod. “Thank you.”
She reached out and grabbed my hand. “I’m a phone call away.”
***
It didn’t take longer than a day for me to decide what I wanted to do. Of course, I was a little skeptical, I would have to work more shifts and be more frugal with my money, but I decided to take her offer. After all, there may not be another chance like this. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I just couldn’t pass it up.
Mary picked me up from my house, because of my lack of transportation, and drove us to her place. The house was huge, and beautiful. There was no doubt she was fortunate.
As we walked in, the soothing scent of lavender relaxed my nerves instantly. Meeting with her husband and her son for the first time was kind of a big deal; these were the people kind enough to do something incredibly amazing for me.
She led me to the couch and sat next to me. Minutes later, her husband walked down the stairs, carrying their son. The cutest baby I think I’d ever seen. He smiled and cooed as they reached the bottom step. I wasn’t sad like I thought I’d be, my heart was warm.
“This is my son Brayden,” Mary said as she took him from her husband, “and this is my husband, Bryan.”
“Hello,” I said waving to Brayden, then Bryan.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Bryan said, reaching his hand out to me.
I shook his hand and returned my focus to Brayden.
“Do you want to hold him?” Mary asked.
I nodded. Then she handed him to me.
“Hi Brayden.” I bounced him as he babbled. “How old is he?”
“He’ll be seven months next week,” Mary replied.
Staring at his chubby cheeks, and the drool as it seeped from his lips, my excitement grew. I was ready to have one of my own.
After eating dinner with Mary and her family, we discussed the events of the process we were about to enter. First, we’d have to deal with the legal aspects of it all, then comes the beginning of surrogacy.
Gestational surrogacy was the route we were planning for, but when it came to a sperm donor, I had no clue where to begin. There was my old boyfriend, Kyle, but he had already entered a new relationship and would likely laugh at the thought of fathering my child. Then there was Steven from the coffee shop, but we were only on a first name basis. All the other men who had been in my life were either married or old enough to be my father.
“I have the perfect person,” Mary suggested. “My nephew. He’s nearly the same age as you are.”
I shook my head. “Wouldn’t that be weird? We don’t know each other.”
“It’s going to be weird no matter what.”
“You have a point.”
She grabbed her phone from the counter. “I’m sure he would love to help. Want me to give him a call?”
I shrugged. “I suppose.”
She dialed his number, turned on the speakerphone, and set the back on the counter.
“Hey, Sam,” she said. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“Well, I have a young lady here. Her name is Kelsey and she is unable to carry a child on her own. Bryan and I have decided I would carry a child for her. However, we need a donor…a sperm donor.”
Sam was silent for a moment.
“I’d be happy to help,” he said finally.
Mary let out the breath she was holding, and shot me a relieved smile.
“Can you meet us Friday, at the clinic?”
“Sure, what time?”
“We have an appointment at ten.”
“Sound good.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“No problem.”
When their phone call ended, Mary leaned into me and wrapped me in a loving hug. I hugged back as the both of us cried happy tears.
***
It was Friday, and we were on our way to the fertility clinic. There were so many emotions rushing through me, it was hard to distinguish them all. All I really knew was this was really happening, and I couldn’t be happier.
Mary parked in the parking spot closest to the glass door that read FERTILITY CLINIC. My hands shook as I reached for the door handle and stumbled out of the car. And I was sure the world could hear the thumping of my heart as we entered the building. But all those feelings halted when I noticed the handsome man who stood next to the reception desk. His head was inches from the ceiling, and he was dressed in clothes that suggested he had a good career.
As Mary walked toward him, I knew he was Sam. For a moment, I couldn’t hear them talking. I was too focused on his dimples and crystal blue eyes. This was going to be the father of my child—holy crap.
“This is Kelsey,” Mary introduced me. “And this is Sam.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said as he held his hand out.
I shook his soft, yet masculine hand and a tingle sensation filled my stomach.
“You too,” I mumbled.
“So, we’re making a baby together?” he asked.
I laughed. “I guess so.”
“Maybe we should get to know each other better then.”
“Maybe we should.”
We traded smiles and took seats in the waiting room. We each filled out paperwork and waited for our names to be called. Sam’s name was called first, then mine.
The doctor had me lie down, and began to administer the anesthesia. It seemed that only a minute went by and I was awake. The intense pressure and subtle cramps in my abdomen were the only reason I was sure the procedure had been completed. Within thirty minutes, I was out in the waiting room with Mary and Sam again.
“How did it go?” Mary asked.
“Good. I think,” I said.
“Great. We have to be back Monday for my procedure.”
“Mine went great too, thanks for asking,” Sam said.
Mary and I laughed. “Didn’t you just have to, like, do it in a cup.”
Sam smiled, then shrugged.
The Two Week Wait
The weeks before we would find out if Mary was pregnant proved to be hard to survive. We were all so excited to know. It was only the fourth day since the transfer and the wait was already killing me. But to take my mind off things, I agreed to go out with Sam again.
This would be our second “date”. The first time we had dinner together at Mary’s house and talked for a while. I learned that he was about the same age as me, twenty-five, and a criminal lawyer. That made me feel even more self-conscious about my part-time job as an editorial assistant.
Sam seemed like a great guy, caring and charming. But I hadn’t spoken to him about what he planned to do when the baby arrived. Maybe it was too soon to think about that. There was a good chance he was only there to help create the baby, for someone who couldn’t create one on her own, or perhaps he wanted more from it. Only time would tell.
He parked outside my apartment and waited for me as I finished getting ready. He was taking me to a semi-fancy restaurant that I’d never been to before. It was nerve-racking but exciting at the same time.
I double-checked my appearance in my full-length mirror before grabbing my purse and heading out the door. He stood beside his car and watched as I walked toward him. With a smile, he turned and opened the passenger side door for me.
“Thank you,” I said as I entered the car.
He nodded and walked to his side. The conversation was dull on the way to the restaurant, but just being around him made me happy.
Once inside the restaurant, the host led us to our reserved table and we both took a seat. He smiled at me and lifted the menu.
“Do you know what you want?” he asked.
“Probably chicken tenders.”
He laughed. “We’re at one of the fanciest restaurants in town and you want chicken tenders?”
I shrugged.
“If that’s what you really want.”
We exchanged smiles, then he flipped through the menu.
After ordering our food, he gazed at me. “How long have you been single?” he asked.
I peered at him. “A long time.”
He nodded. “May I ask why?”
“It’s actually a complicated story. Let’s just say my last relationship was really bad.”
“I understand that. Same with my last.”
“Really?”
“Yep. My ex of four years cheated on me with my best friend of fifteen years.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head at the thought of the pain he must have felt. “I’m really sorry she did that to you.”
He threw his hand in the air as if to say he was over it. “It’s cool. You live and learn.”
“Well, you can’t possible know someone is going to do something like that. I mean, it’s not something you can really predict.”
“That’s true,” he agreed. “But I’m more cautious now.”
“I think that’s a good thing.”
“It is. It’s always good to be cautious.”
I nodded and watched as he took a sip of his drink.
“What made you want to do donate your…” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Sperm.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But I’m glad I did it. You deserve it.”
His words warmed my heart and created the inability to stop smiling. Thanks to Mary, not only did I have a chance of having a child, but I had met this amazing man who I got to share the journey with.
***
For the next several days, Sam and I spoke on the phone and texted each other nearly non-stop. There was an undeniable connection between the two of us, and we were both aware. That following Friday marked the eleventh day of the two-week waiting period and mine and Sam’s third date.
This date was a little different than the ones before. We went to Mary’s again. She was sitting at the table, with Bryan and Brayden, when we walked in. She was holding something, grinning.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked, noticing the awkward silence.
“These are for the two of you,” Mary said, placing what she had been holding on the table.
Sam leaned in to the center of the table. “What is it?”
“They’re tickets to the Ed Sheeran concert.”
My eyes grew wide. She obviously knew how much I loved Ed Sheeran. His music reached the most inner portion of my soul. His words were the only thing that could keep me sane, for the longest time, once I’d lost my baby.
“I love Ed Sheeran,” Sam said, turning toward me.
“Me too.” I smiled as he grabbed the tickets from the table.
He studied them, realizing the concert was tonight. In just one hour.
“Looks like we better get going,” he said. “We’ll stop and grab something to eat on the way.”
I looked at Mary. “Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Let’s just say they were offered to me for a good price, and I couldn’t pass it up. You two have fun.”
I found it hard to believe Mary got such a great deal on such great seats. We were in the second row, and so close to Ed I could count his freckles. We swayed to the music and even sung along. Seeing Ed was something I’d wanted to do for so long, but when Sam grabbed my hand and placed it in his, I almost forgot where we were. The feeling of butterflies in my stomach nearly drowned out all of the sound around me. We looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. It was odd, but strangely comforting, how close we had become in such a short time. And I couldn’t help but remind myself there was no way I loved this man—yet. No way.
After the feelings subsided, I was able to focus on the music again. Sam’s grip on my hand tightened at the beautiful sound of Ed singing Thinking Out Loud. I was almost positive I was falling in love. And not just with Ed.
