“Emma,” Aunt Marsha said. “We know it’s hard but you have to sign.”
“The second one can wait,” Uncle Ned said. “We’ll deposit the bigger check today and deal with the second claim later, okay, Wally?”
“Of course, I understand,” Bishop nodded. “This is never easy.”
On the drive to the bank, Emma said nothing.
She had spent the past few days battling the grief, fear and rage that swirled around her. She was nearing an abyss, slipping closer toward its yawning black jaws.
Was she losing her mind?
“Emma? Are you expecting a delivery?”
Delivery?
Aunt Marsha’s question had startled her.
They had left the bank but every aspect of their time there-sitting in the manager’s office, accepting condolences, dealing with the large check-had not registered with Emma. She had been submerged in her thoughts of Tyler. Now, she recognized that they had returned to her house, and her aunt and uncle were curious about a van that had arrived at the same time.
“Looks like a courier,” Uncle Ned said.
After parking, he went to the driver’s door and signed for receipt of an envelope then passed it to Emma. She opened it to find a large, plain, sealed brown envelope marked “Confidential to Emma Lane.”
She opened it and withdrew a white business letter and immediately recognized the sender’s letterhead.
“What is it, Emma?” Aunt Marsha asked.
“It’s from my doctor.”
“The one who treated you at the hospital?”
“No, I’ll open it inside.”
The letter was from Dr. Glen Durbin, her obstetrician and gynecologist.
Sitting on her living room sofa, she read,
Dear Emma:
Please accept my sincere condolences for the tragic deaths of your husband, Joe, and son, Tyler.
I can only imagine the shock and the unbearable pain and void caused by this unthinkable loss.
As you know, Joe was loved and respected in Big Cloud. He probably helped build half the new houses in this town. He was a skilled craftsman and a good man. Joe was also a supportive husband and loving father, something he proved every minute of every day during the difficult time you faced together, bringing Tyler into this world.
I deeply regret that this tragedy brings me to my required contractual obligation.
As you may recall, I am legally bound to advise you that I have formally alerted Golden Dawn Fertility Corp., of Los Angeles, CA, of the terrible circumstances concerning Tyler’s death so that the company may update its files concerning Donor #181975. (Copy attached).
Emma, please accept my deepest sympathies and know that I also mourn Joe and Tyler’s loss.
You are in my thoughts, Glen Durbin, M.D.
Emma’s hand flew to her mouth and her body sagged.
“What is it, dear?”
Aunt Marsha put her arm around Emma who passed the letter to her. After reading it, Marsha passed it to Ned, who looked up from the page.
“Tyler’s not your biological child?” he asked.
Several moments passed before Emma could answer.
“I’m his biological mother. Tyler was conceived by an anonymous sperm donor from the clinic in California that we used.”
“I never knew this. Marsha, did you know?”
“No one knew that Joe was infertile,” Emma said. “It was something he’d agonized over. After we considered our options he agreed to an anonymous donor, provided we kept it secret.”
“It must’ve been difficult,” Aunt Marsha said.
“It was extremely hard. Joe’s a proud man-was a proud man-oh, God,” Emma gasped. “He did this for me, he ached to have a family but this threw him. He put my happiness before his own. He was so good.”
Emma spent the remainder of the day resting.
She had no appetite for dinner, retreating, as she’d done since the funerals, to Tyler’s room, rocking and thinking.
Dr. Durbin’s letter had pulled her back.
Back to the troubling time when they’d learned the reason she’d failed to get pregnant was because Joe had poor sperm motility. For Emma, the prospect of being childless was the worst thing she’d faced since her parents’ deaths.
“Actually, the chances of Joe fathering a child are about two, maybe three in ten, but you have options,” Durbin explained to them.
After months of anguished consideration, Emma opted to have a child by using an anonymous sperm donor through a private clinic.
To her, a normal pregnancy, over adoption, was the best way to go.
But Joe was reluctant to do anything.
“I wanted you to have my baby, not a baby from another man.”
“This will be our baby, Joe. A man needs to do much more than contribute DNA and genetics to be a real father.”
“I just feel that I somehow failed you.”
“No, this is where we work together to beat this and have a baby, our baby. Please say you’ll do it for me, for us, Joe.”
As he searched her face, his eyes brightened and he smiled.
“All right, if it’s what you want, I’ll do it.”
Dr. Durbin had given them a list of clinics and they picked Golden Dawn Fertility Corp. After some initial telephone consultations and paperwork, they flew to Los Angeles to start the process.
Golden Dawn was a first-class operation located in a gleaming downtown L.A. office building where they treated Emma and Joe with the utmost care.
They first learned how the clinic screened donors.
All candidates were between the ages of twenty-one and forty and came from top universities or top professions. Their health had to be excellent. Their medical and genetic histories were scrutinized. Their blood and sperm samples were subjected to exhaustive testing to ensure they were free of disease, or of any risk due to lifestyle.
They were genetically profiled, their DNA collected. Doctors and psychologists interviewed them for personality traits and their family’s genetic history.
The clinic introduced them to the donor catalogue, which offered general information, such as race, eye and hair color, weight, height, blood type, education.
Joe and Emma were not allowed to see a photograph, or know the names of the donors. However, they provided pictures of Joe and worked with clinic staff to narrow their choices to a donor that not only met their spectrum of choices, but ultimately resembled Joe as much as possible.
“Judging from that catalogue, I think we’ll have a kid who’s going to be a heck of a lot smarter than me,” Joe joked with Emma as they walked on the beach to watch the sun set on the Pacific before heading home.
The whole process cost them about four thousand dollars.
The clinic worked with Dr. Durbin back in Wyoming to time the insemination procedure. When it was right, the vials from donor #181975 were shipped overnight from California to Durbin’s office, where the doctor inseminated Emma.
“Now, Emma, I want you to consider this medical suggestion,” Durbin said privately to her afterward. “You and Joe should make love tonight as many times as you can. Enjoy yourselves because you never know, this could be that one-in-ten time that Joe’s sperm has a successful mission. It just might increase your chances of pregnancy.”
