Fathering a Child for Monica

Only those who have longed for children can fully appreciate the pain of infertility. We adopted several children and love each of them. It was a surprise to discover that conception is the part of parenting requiring the least skill.

--¤--

It began with a knock on my door.

"Monica! How are you? It's been a while."

"Hi, Tom. Today is the fourth anniversary of her death, so I bought some flowers and then realized I'd need help finding her grave. Do you have time to go with me?"

"Sure. I'd like that."

She drove and we talked. We had a lot of catching up to do. She wasn't there for the funeral; someone said she was in England.

"Monica, when was the last time you and I saw each other? The wedding?"

"Yeah. Six years ago. I had just arrived in Oxford when Ash and Ben died."

"I don't think I knew you had studied there. When did you come back?"

"I studied for a year there. I had been admitted to Harvard Law and got them to defer the scholarship for a year, because I had that offer to study philosophy for a year at Oxford."

"Did you just graduate from the law school a few months ago?"

"Yeah, and I just passed the Bar Exam here."

"Wait. I know I'll have more questions, but I can't figure out something. Aren't you 23?"

Monica smiled. "Let me help you. I entered Harvard to study philosophy when I was 16. I graduated in three years and left for Oxford at 19. I entered Harvard Law at 20 and graduated this year. Last week I turned 24."

"Please tell me it took you three years to get through law school."

"It did.... do I turn here?"

"Yes and take the fourth right after you enter the cemetery gate."

I waited to ask more questions and directed her to the nearest place to park. We walked about 50 feet to two flat headstones, matching in design. We sat by the two graves, and Monica took the flowers and laid half on each grave.

"How are you doing, Tom?"

I paused before answering. "I suppose the most honest answer is it depends on the day."

"I've thought about you a lot. Wondered how you were managing. I know we're 10 years apart in age, but you married my sister. That gives me the right to worry about you."

"All things considered, I suppose I'm doing well. I'd like to remarry, but I haven't felt like dating. I miss Ben, too."

I couldn't avoid the tears. Monica reached out and put her hand on my shoulder.

"I hope I never know a loss like that.... Tom, forgive me for asking, but I know roughly how the accident happened... the drunk driver and stuff. How badly were you injured?"

"I was in bad shape, but the other car hit on Ashley's door. We rolled and landed upside down. At least that's what I was told a few days later. They had to use the jaws of life to get me out. Ashley and Ben were both dead. I had a concussion and some broken bones, like an ankle, arm and wrist. I was unconscious, and they kept me heavily sedated for two days."

I desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Congratulations on passing the Bar. I didn't know you were coming back here."

"I felt there were reasons I should. I got a great offer from Simpson Yates."

"The state's largest. I'm impressed. What's your practice area going to be? I've never heard of a philosophy Bar."

Monica laughed at that. "Complex commercial agreements. I don't think I've ever asked what your practice area is, Tom."

"Litigation, but mostly complex stuff. Sounds I'll be suing over contracts you write."

"Oh, I hope not. I guess it's the goal of every transactions attorney to write bullet-proof agreements."

"Impossible standard. My experience is if you forget to deal with a possible problem, no matter how remote, Murphy's Law demands that outcome actually occur."

There was a pause as we relaxed there in the peace of that cemetery. Finally, Monica spoke.

"There's another reason I came back here, and it has to do with you."

"Why me?"

She turned red. "Tom, let me talk for a couple of minutes."

She paused and took a deep breath.

"There were six years between Ashley and me. She was the beauty queen of the family, and I was the much less beautiful scholar."

"Ash never entered a ..."

"Never entered a beauty pageant. I know, but she could have. She got mostly B's in high school and college. I've never had anything lower than one A-, and that one still makes me mad."

"Who are you?"

I said that with a smile, and Monica laughed.

"Tom, I've rarely dated. In high school, she could get three guys to ask her out if she wanted. Look, I'm not critical of her. She was the sweetest sister I could ever imagine. She just got a lot of attention from boys, and I didn't."

"Can I make an observation here?"

"No. Let me finish first."

She smiled and continued.

"I have a big ask. If it's too big, I'll understand. Ash and I were the only two kids in our family. Mom and Dad were thrilled when you two had Ben and crushed when those two died."

I just nodded my head. It was true. Painfully true.

"Tom, I want to have a baby. I want to be a mother while I'm young. If I wait for some man to take an interest in me, I may end up missing out."

I wondered how I figured into this but decided to wait for her to explain. It wasn't a long wait.

"Would you father a baby for me?"

"As a sperm donor?"

"I was thinking direct deposit."

"My turn to speak?"

"Please do. I'm dying over here."

"I have a lot of trouble with the thought of fathering a child that I don't get to raise. I lost one child already, but Monica, why is it you don't think you're beautiful?"

"Because I'm not. I'm studious. You can look it up in my yearbook from high school."

"Do you have any idea how much money and time Ashley spent on makeup? Remember, I saw Ashley with bed hair and no makeup. I can picture her next to me. I can see her face in my mind, and when I look at you, I see the same face."

"So, what? You want me to start wearing makeup and hope I meet a guy?"

"No. Although I think a little bit of that might work wonders for your self-esteem."

"Tom, please. Let's just drop it. I'm sorry I asked."

I put my arm around her and pulled her close. She resisted at first but then put her head on my shoulder.

"I'd like to suggest a different approach and hope this is not a big ask. Will you go to dinner with me tonight?"

"What? A pity date?"

"No, a date with a woman I find very attractive. A woman I'd like to get to know better."

"That's your best offer?"

I looked at her and she looked at me. Then she cracked a smile.

"I'm just yanking your chain, Tom. In truth, I'd love to go out with you and see what happens. After all, you already know it's Petersen, with an 'e.'"

"Do you know what I don't know? Your birthday."

"September 18th. When is yours?"

"January 24th."

"You're nearly 11 years older. I may have to rethink this before I end up helping you with your diapers."

"I'm going to ignore that--or I may forget it due to age. However, did I hear an answer for tonight?"

"Yes, I'd love to go to dinner with you."

"I have one requirement, and this is for you, not for me. Go to Macy's and ask one of the women in the cosmetics area to show you how to use minimal makeup to feel more confident in your appearance. You don't need any more than that."

"Where do you want to take me?"

"To La Belle Époque, across from the Four Seasons Hotel."

"That's expensive. Are you sure?"

"You really need to quit challenging every decision I make about dating you."

"That sounds wonderful. Could we go tomorrow night instead? I need something more proper to wear, and I want to look my best for this guy I just met. I'm hopeful something may come of it."

"I'll make reservations for 7:30 tomorrow and pick you up at 7. Text me your address?"

"I'll do it now. Here--enter your phone number. Can I trust you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good."

"Monica, thank you for wanting to honor Ashley and Ben. I don't come here enough."

--¤--

After she dropped me at home, I walked in the house and sat on the sofa, thinking about all that had happened. I knew we still had a lot to talk about.

I mean, why philosophy?

Just a few minutes later my phone buzzed. A text from Monica.

Tom, thanks for our talk today. I like your idea a lot better than mine. I'll see you tomorrow at 7.

I waited a few minutes and texted her back.

I haven't been this excited about a date since my first date with a girl who looked a lot like you.

The next afternoon, I paid a visit to a floral shop. I wanted fragrant flowers. No, not roses. Not yet at least.

"How about a plant instead of flowers that die? Look at this beautiful jasmine. This will fill a room with fragrance."

In retrospect, I should have put a card with it, but I realized I was way out of practice.

--¤--

When Monica answered the door to her apartment, I was assaulted by a range of sensory inputs: her perfume was intoxicating. Had I not known better, I might have mistaken her for Ashley. Her dress! Simply a wow.

"Monica, you look incredible. Instead of giving you flowers that will die in a few days, I bought you something more lasting to remember our first date."

"Are those jasmines? I love the fragrance. Thank you, Tom."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"I can see why Ashley fell in love with you."

I held out my arm and walked to the car so I could open the door for her. That and stare at her legs.

As we drove, I asked about philosophy as a degree choice.

"It's like that graduation speech in Twilight, I chose it because it's impossible to make a living with it."

"I like that. What philosophers did you like the best?"

"I'm tempted to endorse what a professor said one day when someone asked that. 'Well, there was Plato, and everyone else has been footnotes.'"

"Is that how you feel?"

"In some ways, but I also like Aristotle (who was a student of Plato), Decartes and John Locke, the latter mostly because of how his writings on social contract theory laid the foundation for our Declaration of Independence and the Constitution."

"That's where your studies of philosophy and law crossed. Was Descartes the one famous for 'I eat, therefore I am?'"

She was laughing hard over that.

"If you can, Tom, tell me about your happiest memory of Ashley."

"Easy. It was when she held Ben for the first time. She had an ethereal look."

As soon as I said that, I wondered whether I would have that experience with Monica. I looked over at her and saw she had been looking at me and smiling. Probably thinking the same thing.

As wonderful as the food was, what I will always remember was my surprise that it was the best first date of my life. The moment I processed that thought, there were tears in my eyes. Monica saw me wipe them away and reached out and held my hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all."

"Why did you tear up?"

I paused, unsure whether I wanted to answer. Then I thought, why not?

"I just realized this might be the best first date I've ever had."

It was her turn to wipe away tears.

When I drove her home, we walked up the stairs to the second floor. We held hands as we approached the door to her apartment. When we stopped and she turned to face me, kissing was suddenly the most natural thing to do.

Our first kiss was brief, but we kissed again, and that was memorable, leaving us short of breath.

--¤--

That night, after changing into pajamas, I was sitting near the fireplace, where I had started a small fire.

My phone buzzed. I hoped it was Monica.

I want to thank you for so many things. An incredible dinner, first date, and a kiss that took my breath away. Most of all, thank you for insisting I was beautiful and inviting me to see myself that way. I just want to wrap my arms around you and hold you.

I sat for a moment, thinking.

I enjoyed our date at least as much, and I thought you looked stunning tonight. I just checked the weather for tomorrow, which looks good. Would you like to play a round of mini golf?

She sent back a thumbs up emoji.

--¤--

I picked her up at 11 the next day and we had a lot of fun playing. The thing I like about mini golf is actual talent at golf is largely irrelevant. I also learned a scholar like Monica has an advantage. It's like she could envision all of the caroms, rolls and bounces. Calculated them in her mind. Saw her shot play out before taking it.

She whipped my butt. That week and again the next, even worse the second time.

We had a lot of fun dates over the next few months, everything from dinners at my home, streaming stuff with a fire burning, walks in the park, and dancing in my living room.

One day I looked through selfies on my phone, starting with one I took on our first date, that night with her first use of makeup and the spectacular little black dress. Then I flipped forward to our most recent two dates.

Had she become more beautiful, or was it my perception that had changed?

--¤--

One evening--I think it was April when we had a cold spell right after T-shirt weather--I had changed into my pajamas and was sitting on my sofa. Monica and I had gone out to dinner earlier. Now it was just after 11 pm.

I reached for my phone:

I'm in my pajamas sitting in front of a cold fireplace and thinking about you and our date tonight. Those memories help me feel a little warmer, but I was thinking of lighting a fire. That's a silly thing to enjoy alone, don't you think?

Her answer appeared quickly.

I'm putting on my pajamas now for our party. I'll be there in 15 minutes. Light the fire and hold me in your arms.

By the time I heard her knock lightly on the door, the large log on the fire was burning nicely. I opened the door and she rushed into my arms. I picked her up and walked to the sofa. As I sat, she put her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder.

"You're warm, Tom. I want to snuggle here for days."

I held her in my arms, and we sat like that for about 45 minutes, watching the fire.

"Hey, babe, tomorrow is Sunday, so as I see it, you have a couple of choices. You can drive home--not my first choice--or I can sleep in that first bedroom down the hall, and you can have my bed."

She pulled back a little so she could look into my eyes.

"Isn't there another option?"

--¤--

We stood together next to my bed and kissed.

I unbuttoned her pajama top and slowly reached inside to caress her curves.

Her fingers worked on my top. One button at a time. No rush, just anticipation. With our tops discarded, we embraced. The feeling of her breasts on my skin was indescribably delicious. Her hands caressed my back.

"I love how you touch me," she gasped.

I suddenly realized there was a problem.

"Monica, this is embarrassing, but I don't have a condom."

"That only matters if you were planning on sex."

Since she couldn't say that with a straight face, both of us laughed. She put her arms around my neck and looked into my eyes.

"My love, you are going to make love to me for the next few hours, and you are not using a condom, even if you had one. I got an IUD last month, but there's something I need you to know."

"You're not a dude down there, are you?"

"No, my 23rd pair of chromosomes is XX, babe. No, I need you to go slow with me. This is my first time."

"For a minute there I was afraid it would also be my first time."

We stood there, holding each other and laughing. We had lost that delicious passion we had going, so I turned her around, put my arms around her and played with her breasts, gradually moving to her nipples. They were soon nicely stiff.

I kissed her neck and she moaned. I knelt behind her and slowly pulled her PJ bottoms to the floor, leaving only a thong to cover any part of her.

When I stood, I picked her up and laid her on the bed.

What followed was one of those intimate moments that can't be satisfactorily described in words alone. I suppose that's why the fine arts exist. For some things we need to paint, sculpt, sing, and dance in an attempt to express all we saw and felt.

She was indeed a virgin, but after the pain of my penetration eased, we made love for a few hours, until exhaustion made it impossible to do anything but sleep, our bodies entwined.

What I will always remember about our first time was her face as her first orgasm swept over her. That and the moment I penetrated her fully after tearing her hymen.

I had fun teaching her doggy and cowgirl. To describe her as an eager pupil would not begin to convey her enthusiasm.

--¤--

Sometime in the middle of the night, Monica rolled over and put her arms around me. I vaguely remember enclosing her in my arms. She kissed my neck and reached for my soft cock. As she stroked it, I became hard and was soon fully awake.

"I think there's something I need to show you," I said.

I pushed her on her back and slid slowly down as I kissed her body. Once my head was between her legs, I kissed her thighs and dined at her Y. The second time she came, it was with a wail, her hands on my head, holding me in place to service her.

She was surprised when just seconds later, I entered her and bottomed out, balls deep.

When we had both recovered, she snuggled next to me again.

"That was amazing, Tom. I've read a couple of romance novels that described what you just did, but the actual intensity was a nice surprise."

"I love you, Monica."

She squeezed my body and kissed my chest.

--¤--

"We might actually get a nice Spring day today. Let's go to the park."

Monica had grabbed a bag of casual clothes, so she made me run outside and fetch the bag from her car. We showered together and then went out for breakfast. It was about 11 when we finally made it to the park.

As we walked, hand in hand, I thought about Ashley. I knew she would be happy that Monica and I had found each other.

When we came to a park bench, I told her to sit. Before she could ask what I was doing, I took a knee and held a diamond ring for her to see.

"Ashley was my first real love, so I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that I've fallen completely and irrevocably in love with her beautiful sister. Monica, will you marry me?"

"I was wondering whether you would ever propose, but this is perfect. Yes, I'll marry you."

She held out her hand, and I slipped the ring on her finger.

We stood and kissed for several minutes.

"Tom, we need to go tell my parents. I think you know them already."

It was cute the way she said that. I couldn't help but laugh.

--¤--

We parked in the driveway and walked to the front door. I had a flashback of the first time I kissed Ashley. It was there, on that porch.

She reached for the doorknob, but I stopped her.

"Just a minute. There's something I need to do."

I kissed her. It was long and full of fire.

"Ring the doorbell while you recover."

The door opened. I spoke.

"Hi Gloria. I brought someone I think you know."

"Well, Tom! It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

"I've been well, especially since Monica came to see me a few months ago."

Monica held up her left hand. Gloria's face lit up.

"Brad! Come here. Monica is here with her fiancé."

Brad came running and looked back and forth from Monica to me and back again, trying to make sure he understood. Finally, he spoke. Classic Brad.

"Tom, it truly is wonderful to see you again and to discover you're going to deplete my inventory of single daughters."

I hugged her parents. I had loved them for several years.

We had to explain at least some of how we got engaged. We left out Monica's first plan for baby making. Gloria got us back on that topic.

"Do you plan to have children?"

"Mom, we both want children, and probably soon. I want to help Tom get over his loss. But I also want to be a mother."

It was fun, sitting in that home I knew so well, talking with two old friends and another daughter with whom I had experienced incredible sex.

We didn't discuss that with them, though.

--¤--

The next night, after work, we drove over to her apartment and packed up most of her clothes to bring to what would be our home. Then we went to see Mom and Dad.

I opened the front door, as was my practice.

"Mom? Dad?"

Mom came around the corner.

"Monica! I haven't see you since the wedding. How have you been? My word, you look a lot like Ashley. Did you notice that, Tom?"

"I did. In fact, we're here to share some news. Where's Dad?"

"Matt? Where are you?"

We heard him answer something from upstairs. In a few seconds he trotted down the stairs. He came and hugged Monica.

"Can we go sit in the living room?" I wanted to move this along.

"A few months ago--it was on the anniversary of Ashley's death--Monica came to see me and asked me to show her Ashley's grave. She was in England when Ashley and Ben died."

"And now you're engaged. I noticed the ring right away."

Leave it to Mom to figure it out.

"Now we're engaged."

Mom had to see the ring. It's a mom thing.

"When are you getting married?"

"We're looking at June 16th. We know that works for Brad & Gloria. How about you?"

Mom was already heading into the kitchen to find her iPad. That day was clear for them as well.

By the next morning, Mom and Gloria were into their planning mode, this being their second time working together.

--¤--

Monica and I enjoyed sleeping in the same bed each night and waking up together. I had never quite gotten used to reaching over and finding that side of the bed empty. Now, when I reached over, she rolled into my embrace, and often it was an intimate embrace that followed.

She still had her IUD but planned to remove it right after our honeymoon. That worked out the best with the timing of her periods.

Monica was also getting more accustomed to her law practice and had some interesting agreements to draft. Neither of us could discuss clients with each other, but she asked a wonderful question one night.

"If you were teaching a bunch of transactional attorneys like me about drafting agreements that will protect our clients in litigation over the agreement, what would you say?"

We talked for an hour about things I had seen, and ways in which I had attacked different clauses as being ambiguous. One of the problems I often see is boilerplate provisions that haven't been thought through in years or even checked carefully as part of a new agreement. Sometimes, attorneys unwittingly introduce contradictions and ambiguities that way.

Our wedding was only a month away, so I had to have my paralegal go over our litigation calendar carefully to make sure we took care of any deadlines or called opposing counsel to seek a change of the deadline, something attorneys routinely do for each other.

Monica and Gloria shopped for a wedding dress, and Monica also teased me one night by telling me she had gone shopping--without her mother--for sexy lingerie for our honeymoon.

We had also planned our honeymoon. Monica wanted to spend it in Australia. We had to narrow that a lot and decided to focus on the Gold Coast and Sydney.

--¤--

The scholar in Monica came to the fore one night. We had engaged in some hot foreplay, and I was about to mount her. She pushed me onto my back and went down on me. What followed was simply the best blowjob of my life.

When I asked how she knew how to do that, she grinned and said she'd been studying how.

"Did I do it well?"

"When you make me throb that way, you've got your proof. It was awesome."

--¤--

When I bought the home, Ashley and I talked about adding a hot tub. I had just started practicing law and wanted to wait until I felt more comfortable about my income stream. Then Ashley died, and the thought of getting a hot tub only reminded me of my loss.

However, one Saturday morning about two weeks before our wedding, I woke up and dragged Monica out of bed.

"Come on! Time to get up. We have something important to shop for today."

She had been making noises to protest being dragged out of bed, but when she heard "shopping," she came alive. The transformation was so amusing I had to sit next to her and hug her as I laughed.

"What are we shopping for?"

"A wonderful place to have sex."

"Do you have one of those rooms with no windows in the basement, Mr. Grey?"

"No, but how would you like to make love in a hot tub?"

"Right now, at the store? I'll get my suit."

I finally got her past all the jokes and convinced her I wanted to shop for a hot tub. Two hours later, I bought the one we liked and arranged to have the store install it. When I bought the house, there was already a subpanel on the outside of the house near to the deck, so it was hot tub ready.

The following Saturday, we made love there. Monica leaned on the side of the tub and presented to me so I could take her doggy style.

--¤--

One always remembers the wedding day, but one of the emotions is relief that the wait is over. And the hassle of the event. Monica and I were pampered and didn't have time to sit around and watch the clock.

We knew it would be well-attended. Two law firms with attorneys and staff. Our parents had lived there forever as well. I think Monica and I added 50 people to the list, but that ballooned to 162 once our mothers finished.

I had never seen Monica as more beautiful than when I watched Brad bring her down the aisle to me. Gloria had hired a woman with experience in stage and film to do Monica's makeup, and the result was amazing. Even before that, though, Monica's self-confidence had grown as interactions with friends and people at her law firm commented on how pretty she was.

She told me one day that she had been hit on a couple of times, something that had never happened to her before.

When we kissed for the first time as husband and wife, Monica whispered in my ear.

"Tom, you are the love of my life, and I've never been happier."

I might have said something in reply, but I was too emotional at that moment. I felt in that moment as she did; we were standing on the edge of great happiness together. Tom and Monica Willett.

--¤--

We spent a night near the airport and flew to Sydney the next day. Sydney was fun to explore, but there was so much to see. We went to the Sydney Harbour Bridge and took the guided tour that includes climbing the bridge. Monica clung to me and refused to look down.

We made love every night. It was their winter season, so the weather was cool most of the time, although we had a few days of warmer temps. Monica and I both prefer a cool bedroom, with the added benefit that Monica snuggles close to me.

After three nights there, we woke up to a warm day, and moved a short distance to Bondi Beach, where Monica teased me mercilessly by sunbathing topless. Perhaps she wasn't merciless, because every time we returned to the hotel, we made love, and every time we got ready to go out onto the beach, she asked me to put sunblock on her boobs.

I selflessly took care of protecting them.

We flew way up north to the outskirts of Cairns for our last four nights, including a whole day out on one of the reef pontoons on the Great Barrier Reef. We got to go snorkeling out there, until the wind came up and there was too much chop.

On the last day of our honeymoon, Monica got her period. We knew when it ended we would start our family.

--¤--

As we settled into married life, everything was about as idyllic as I could have hoped. We came home each night, excited to see the other. We cooked and shopped together, sat in the hot tub frequently, and made love often.

Now, when I reached over to that side of the bed during the night, I found a warm, soft body that turned into my embrace and kissed me.

One night, Monica announced she wanted me to do her doggy style for the next month. She also made it clear she wanted it on the bed, against the wall, in the hot tub, and laid out on the dining table. Any way I could think, she wanted it.

I had an idea and told her to wait a moment. I rummaged around in our closet and found an old necktie and a belt.

I tied her wrists together and used the belt to secure the tie to the headboard. I put a small pillow under her pelvis, raising it provocatively, something she enhanced by slowly wagging her ass back and forth, offering it to me.

This was a setting that called for raising her desire, so I tickled her back, kissed it all over and left soft, smoldering kissing down it, all the way to her tush. I paused there to enjoy dining out as she groaned.

She moaned and spoke one word: "Please."

I moved up and entered her. I did it over and over, slowly, just to listen to her wail of delight. Then I rammed it as deeply as possible as she screamed.

"Do you want it rough or gentle?"

"Rough."

I took hold of her hair and pulled her head up as I rammed into her again.

"Yesss."

When I finally reached my peak and filled her, she laid her head on the bed and smiled. Once I recovered l laid beside her, but she reminded me her arms were still tied.

--¤--

We expected Monica to get pregnant right away, and if not that first month, then the next. However, the next stretched into multiple nexts. After 11 months, we decided to see a fertility specialist.

My swimmers tested fine. I was amazed by the technical parameters evaluated, but the bottom line: Excellent sperm health and lots of them. Eager to search out eggs.

We also had Monica tested. She was emotional going through it, fearing she might not be fertile. However, our doctor verified there was a large reserve of eggs, her hormonal responses were correct, and there were no problems with her fallopian tubes.

Monica took fertility medication and we tried for another six months and then discussed in vitro fertilization. She miscarried the fertilized egg after it was implanted.

That night, I held Monica in my arms as she sobbed. She had her heart set on having a baby, with the added desire to help me heal.

I tried to console her. I told her we'd try IVF again. She just looked at me and said she was done. She slept in my arms that night, but I was worried about her mental health.

The next morning, I kissed her and told her I loved her. She smiled and sat up.

"Tom, I've been thinking. How would you feel about an adoption?"

"I'm open to that, but I hear the wait can be long."

"Maybe not. I got a text late yesterday that I didn't see until early this morning when I got up to pee. An attorney in our firm has a friend who is pregnant, but she feels her marriage is falling apart. She doesn't want an abortion but asked if my friend knew anyone interested in adopting.

"This would be a private adoption, not though an agency."

"I think you should follow up."

"I'll text her now."

--¤--

We met with her law partner a few days later, and that led to a meeting with her client. Her name was Tiffany and she and her husband had separated. They had three children already and agreed that they would place this child with someone for adoption. She was still covered under her husband's health insurance.

By the end of our meeting, Tiffany hugged us and wanted us to move forward. She was due on February 9th, six months away. A baby girl.

That night, Monica and I made love for the first time in a couple of weeks. As we lay together afterwards, we talked about the planned adoption.

"Tom, my only regret is it's a little girl. I know you looked forward to all sorts of father and son stuff with Ben."

"Honey, that doesn't matter. I can teach my daughter to play soccer and softball. Then I get to dance with her when she marries."

Monica laughed. "Only if you take lessons first."

"What are you saying?"

"Remember Elaine on Seinfeld?"

"Oh, stop it! I'm not that bad."

"That's what she thought, too."

"Other than that, how do you feel about adopting?"

"Sometimes I wonder whether I will love her the same as if I was her biological mother."

"I get that. I've wondered about that, too, but I talked to a client last week who had adopted three children. He said he loves them the same as the two born to him and his wife. I think parenting is more than reproduction."

--¤--

Over the next few months, we worked with the county child and family services people to have a home study done, which we would need for our adoption filing. We also talked to an attorney in my firm who practiced family law. She was thrilled by our news and agreed to handle the court filing for the adoption.

Tiffany came over for dinner one night and we hit it off. We learned she was a CPA and partner with the local office of Ernst & Young. She had gotten her accounting degree and her MAcc (Master's of Accountancy) at the University of Texas, one of the best programs in the nation. We laughed a lot as we talked that night.

Our attorney had an agreement ready for us to sign and for Tiff and her husband to sign. One part of that agreement authorized the hospital to release the baby into our custody, and Tiffany and Stan had to sign that after the baby was born, not before.

When I met Tiffany at her office to go over that with her, he said she didn't want to hold her baby. She thought that would be difficult for her. She promised to call us when she went into labor, so we could speak with the hospital staff and bring our baby home.

As we talked, she mentioned that she and her husband were talking about reconciling. As soon as she said that, she realized why I was surprised.

"Tom, the one thing we agree on is not risking the long-term well-being of this baby. We want you to adopt her."

--¤--

In the weeks that followed, Monica and I went shopping. A crib, stroller, car seat, formula, diapers and wet wipes. A closet full of baby stuff.

When my phone rang on February 8th, I was not surprised to see it was Tiffany calling. She was in the birth area of the hospital, waiting for her contractions to increase.

"Tom, when they take me in, I may not have reception. You and Monica should probably wait at least an hour before coming here."

Monica and I stood in our living room. We held each other and cried.

--¤--

The hospital staff knew we were coming, and had reserved a small, private waiting room for our use. A few minutes later, a nurse came in and said Tiffany had asked her to get the paper she needed to sign after the baby's birth.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and a man we had not met stepped into the room.

"I heard you were here and wanted to come and meet you and introduce myself. I'm Stan, Tiffany's husband. I think she told you we're considering reconciliation, but I want to reassure you. Candidly, I'm not sure we'll successfully reconcile, but we won't risk the long-term happiness of this baby on our messy situation. She needs loving parents, and Tiffany believes that's what you will be. I just wanted to thank you. By the way, she gave birth a few minutes ago."

His presence there was fortuitous, because I had with me a release document for him to sign. He looked it over and was about to sign, but we needed a disinterested witness, so I went and found a nurse.

We shook his hand and chatted for a few minutes. He was the CEO of a software development business that had recently announced its acquisition by Google. He would be moving soon to California, although Tiffany was staying here.

Stan left, and about an hour later a nurse came to get us. We were going up to see Tiffany, who had been moved to her room. When we walked in, she smiled and reached for us to hold her hands.

"How are you feeling, Tiffany?"

"Tired, but happy. I haven't seen her, but they told me she is healthy and her scores are good. The form is there. All signed. The nurse should be back in a minute, and she can show you where you need to go.

I saw the signed form sitting on the little table they use for serving food in the hospital.

"Thank you again, Tiffany. Tom and I are so grateful to you. It's been such a dream of ours to start a family."

The nurse came into the room and saw us.

"Tom & Monica, right? Come with me to the nursing station."

When we got there the nurse who seemed to be in charge grabbed a clipboard and directed us into a small room.

"Now, do you have the releases signed by the birth parents?"

I handed both to her.

"These are in order. I'll make copies for our records. I also have some information to give you about care and feeding, and we're going to send you out of here with a case of liquid formula. Do you have some diapers?"

We nodded. "We have some powdered formula for newborns, so we'll use that when the liquid formula runs out."

"Do either of you have experience with a newborn?"

"I had a son and got a lot of practice with diapers and formula."

"Perfect. Monica, this is your first, right."

"It is."

I saw the tears in her eyes and squeezed her hand.

"Would you like to go see your daughter?"

Silly question!

We walked down to the nursery, and she asked us to wait in the hall. She went in and we could see her pick up the baby and walk in our direction.

The baby was all wrapped up and the nurse handed her to Monica.

"Have you chosen a name? We can put it on the birth certificate, but it will be issued showing the birth parents. When the court approves your adoption, that gets changed and you'll receive a new birth certificate."

"Ashley. That was my sister's name, who was also my husband's first wife."

--¤--

An hour later, we drove home with Ashley. Monica sat in the back seat holding her, so I could see her tears in the rear-view mirror. That didn't help my vision; too many tears to see clearly.

Once we got home, Ashley needed a new diaper, so I got to show Monica my tips for putting on a diaper without it falling off.

She was red-faced and her head was a little wonky, but I knew that would adjust quickly. We put her down in the crib and she went back to sleep. I like that in a baby.

Monica and I stood there, looking down on our daughter--not officially yet, but that would happen soon.

Our attorney filed the petition about ten days later, and the county filed their home study and recommendation. Three weeks later, we stood before the judge, and Monica held Ashley.

We walked out as the parents of Ashley Willett.

--¤--

Ashley's first year flew by. The grandmothers helped out four days a week, until 3 in the afternoon. Monica worked in her office four days and one day from home. Ashley rolled over regularly and was incredibly aware of her surroundings by then.

We were often interrupted in our lovemaking. Ashley seemed to have a sixth sense about that, although Monica mostly solved that by feeding her right before we got it on.

When Ashley was almost 18 months, we got the surprise of our lives. Monica came out of the bathroom naked. That wasn't the surprise; it was what she was holding and staring at.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

"I did this twice. Tom ... look at this."

She handed me a First Response. It said she was pregnant. I looked up at her and we stared at each other.

"Monica, is this for real?"

"I checked because my last period was nearly two months ago. A couple of days ago I started throwing up. I think I need to call my doctor tomorrow."

She climbed into bed and we held each other. We had so many disappointments in the past, we were both reluctant to hope.

Three days later, I went with her to the doctor's office. They had a cancellation and managed to squeeze Monica in.

She explained the two home tests, and he took a blood sample. He asked his nurse to take that to their lab and rush it.

"I'm going to assume you are pregnant, but we'll know for sure in a few minutes. Given your history, all your efforts to become pregnant, and your one miscarriage following the IVF, we'll classify you as high risk. That means we'll see you more often.... I need to stop here. Congratulations! I hope this is what we think it is.

"Now, a comment. You are not the first woman to have adopted and then gotten pregnant. No one can explain it, but it happens. I have three patients--four with you--who gave up and adopted and then got pregnant. One had a miscarriage, and the other two had normal full-term pregnancies."

We asked a lot of questions, for most of which he had no answer yet.

A nurse stepped in and handed Dr. Francis a piece of paper. He studied it with a smile for several seconds.

"Well, you are officially pregnant. Do you want to know the gender?"

We looked at each other, and together said, "Yes!"

"You're having a boy. Now please, schedule an ultrasound. We'll probably do that once a month due to the risk level, but do that first one soon."

The next week we saw our son.

--¤--

"Tom, what name should we give him?"

"I don't want 'Ben.' That's too much. I love that we used 'Ashley,' though."

"How about 'Nathan'? Or maybe 'Oliver.'"

"I really like 'Oliver.'"

We sent a photo of Oliver in the ultrasound to our parents. We wrote on the side: "Appearing April 23rd."

--¤--

It was surreal how quickly the months passed by. At first I feared a miscarriage, to the point that I refused to mention it to Monica. She feared it, too, I learned much later, but our fears decreased over time.

Her pregnancy went smoothly, right up to the last month, when she was tired of being pregnant, uncomfortable and had trouble sleeping. I massaged her legs each night and held her in my arms.

Two days before her due date, her water broke. As we drove to the hospital, I had a flashback to Ashley. Monica was also scared as she approached giving birth. It was such an unknown.

I turned my head and looked at Monica.

"Honey, you're going to do great. I'll be there, holding your hand. Just take a deep breath and relax."

It was almost three hours later when I stood by her side. I was there to carry out two duties. I was equipped with a soft rag to mop her brow, and I offered my hand to be sacrificed as she squeezed to deal with the pain.

My heart went out to her as she struggled through giving birth, but I managed to repress a bunch of smart-ass comments about having finished my work 9 months earlier.

Despite such light-hearted thoughts, I wept openly when the nurse handed Oliver to Monica. I had a flashback to Ashley holding Ben.

--¤--

The next day, I brought Monica and Oliver home. Mom was there at our home with Ashley. Later that afternoon, Monica and I stood by Oliver's crib. I had my arm around her and held her close.

"This is such a wonderful moment."

She leaned against me and wiped away some tears.

"Do you remember what you wanted from me as we sat in the cemetery?"

"I wanted you to father a baby for me."

"Let the record show I delivered."

"Delivered? Are you sure you want to use that word?"

"Point taken. In the language of contracts, I performed my side of the agreement."

"If we didn't have to wait four weeks, I'd make you perform again, right now."

"Are you saying the contract is capable of being fulfilled more than once?"

She put her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"I'm saying, give me a few months, but I'd like you to father another baby."

"We can still practice, though? Right? I mean, after four weeks?"

"Sweetheart, you can practice on me, under me, in me, any way you want."

She slowly knelt at my feet.

"For now, payment for your service is due to keep everything functioning and my options open."

--¤--