Having The Soldier's Baby. Tara Taylor Quinn

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СКАЧАТЬ fertility clinic.

      Emily wanted to take the other woman’s hand. To thank her somehow, though nothing in her life was any different than it had been moments ago. “What happened to your father?”

      “He met a woman in LA, ten years older than me, twenty younger than him, remarried, had his son. And another daughter, too. They never asked me to live with them, but honestly, even if they had, I’d have chosen to stay with my grandparents.”

      “Do you see them? Your dad and his family? Your half brother and sister?”

      “Once or twice a year. For an hour or so over a meal, usually. I never got along with his new wife. Probably somewhat my fault. But on the other hand, he never tried all that hard to bridge the gap.”

      Certain that there was a lot more Christine wasn’t saying, Emily thought over what she had said. Searching for its application to the current situation.

      “You’re worried about the morality of using Winston’s sperm when he isn’t here to father his child. Or have any say in whether or not he has a fatherless child in the world.”

      Christine’s statement hit home. Hard. “I didn’t say that.”

      “You kind of did.”

      Not in so many words...but she’d rambled a lot and... “I guess that’s part of it,” she said, clasping her hands together in her lap, slumping some, too, but still not leaning back against the couch. “Is it fair to the child? To bring him or her into a single-parent home?”

      “You know these are questions only you can answer.”

      But that didn’t mean she liked that truth.

      “A lot of people have disagreed with choices I’ve made in my life,” Christine continued. “One of them was choosing to use my mother’s money to build this clinic when I could have gone on to med school, or been a lawyer, or had any other life. But for me, this clinic is a part of her, and using my life to keep her legacy alive, to actually be able to give other people what she wanted most—the chance to have babies—this was my right choice. I’m happier today than I’ve been since I was ten and lost her.”

      Emily believed her.

      “You have to make your right choice,” Christine’s words fell softly between them. “I could tell you what I think, or give you pros and cons, but you’ve done a pretty stellar job of arguing both sides all on your own.”

      No disputing that one.

      “You know the paperwork you and Winston signed when you started with us gives you permission for the use of his sperm.”

      She knew. Of course she knew. Her, and only her. That had been important to them.

      “How do I know this is the choice he’d have wanted me to make?”

      Therein was the crux of her self-torture. They’d never talked about one of them carrying on without the ever. It hadn’t been an option for them. Or a possibility she’d ever considered.

      Hard to believe she’d ever been that naive.

      “He’s not here, Emily. You think my mother would choose for me to be living alone in her parents’ home, dedicating my life to work? You think she’d choose for me to never have babies of my own?”

      When she put it that way...not likely.

      “You’re young. You’ve got a lot of years to have kids.”

      “I’m childless by choice.” The brightly dressed woman smiled as she looked around her office. “This is my life. There’s no doubt in my mind that I made the right choice. And my point to you is...just because grief plays a part in your choice, that doesn’t mean it’s reactionary, and therefore invalid.”

      Emily considered that for a moment before replying. “I’ve known since I was a teenager that I was going to be the mother of Win’s kids someday. I knew I’d have a career, that I’d be someone professionally, that that was important to me, but being the mother of his kids, being his wife, mattered more than anything else.”

      “Do you still feel that way?”

      Emily smiled and teared up a bit, too. “I think that’s pretty obvious, huh?”

      Christine shrugged.

      “I’m going to do this.”

      No judgment came from the other woman. No sense that she was doing the right or wrong thing. That she’d made the choice Christine thought she should make. Or hadn’t.

      But she felt a kinship with her.

      “I’ve got the ability to have my husband live on, even after his death, to bring parts of him to life, to give him descendants. I can raise his children and love them as much as we both wanted to. I know his views on pretty much every aspect of raising children...we talked endlessly about schooling, about discipline—even eating habits we’d allow. And not allow. It’s crazy-sounding, but Winston and I...we were just meant to be. And our family was meant to be, too.”

      She wasn’t rambling anymore. Wasn’t lost in the not-knowing. She and Winston had talked over every detail of child raising, of investing, of career plans, vacationing, homeownership, pet acquiring—but they’d never once talked about one of them not being there.

      They’d never discussed death.

      She knew how he’d thought about telling his children about sex, but had no idea what he’d think of her using his sperm to have his baby after he died.

      So she couldn’t make this decision based on him. She was the only one left. The choice was hers alone.

      The first big decision she’d ever made completely alone.

      “It might not take,” she said aloud, still a bit shaky as a whole new set of worries came upon her. “This might all have been for nothing if I can’t get pregnant.”

      “Nothing in your tests showed you to be infertile.”

      “I know, but...”

      “If nothing else, insemination gives you a better shot,” Christine said, more distant and professional now than she’d been. “If you’re still unsure, or thinking it might be better if it didn’t work, if you’re looking for an out...”

      “I’m not!” She stood, and Christine followed suit. “I want this child more than anything...”

      Christine’s smile was a surprise. But not as much of one as the hug the other woman reached over and gave her.

      “I know,” the health director said. “And now you do, too.”

       Chapter Three

      “My name is Winston Hannigan. I am a chief petty officer first class.” He rattled off his serial number. “I was deployed as a sand sailor under the Individual Augmentee СКАЧАТЬ