“I don’t know. Why not think of it as we can make love as often as we want without worrying about getting pregnant?”
“Hmm. I like your attitude.” She put her book aside. “Will we be able to make love when you’re pregnant or will we have to do without for nine months?”
“I believe we’ll be able to, but just in case…” She dropped the newspaper on the floor and rolled onto Robin. Later, as Lily stroked Robin’s hair and watched her doze, she felt a surge of love, love that had grown rather than diminished over their two years of marriage.
Robin opened her eyes. “Will you call Dr. Stafford tomorrow or should I?”
“Why don’t you? I can be free anytime, but you have to do most of the startup work to get us an egg to make a baby and your schedule is usually filled.”
“Have you given any thought to the…to a sperm donor?”
“Cordy thinks one of her former students would be perfect. He was a year behind you and, she says, nearly as brilliant.”
“Well, I’m glad she said, nearly. I wouldn’t want my genes to be overwhelmed by someone as insignificant as the sperm donor. “Do you have a name?”
“Lucien Arceneaux. He’s Cajun but not related to Delphine. At least not for generations. His family lives a little ways outside of New Orleans.”
“Ah, yes. Lucien. We called him Lucky. I had classes with him and we worked on several projects together. I found his warmth and upbeat attitude attractive. Actually, now that I think of it, he was a lot like you. Yes, he would be perfect.”
“What else do you remember about him?”
Robin thought for a moment. “He’s brilliant but not nerdy.” She sat up. “He played the cello and the guitar, had a decent voice and, I think, he was into photography. Where is he? Does Cordy think he’d be willing?”
“He’s married, has three daughters, and is a tenured astrophysics professor at the University of Hawaii. She thought you should contact him and casually mention her name, then she would follow up if necessary.”
“Do we have a telephone number?”
“But of course.”
* * *
Money, it turned out, couldn’t buy everything. Who knew that even though they’d been recommended by Nicole, one of the most respected and sought after neonatal physicians in New York City, they’d have to complete an extensive questionnaire, then wait eleven weeks for their first appointment with the certified reproductive endocrinologist, she had highly recommended?
Finally, the week before Thanksgiving, they were in her office, anxious to meet Dr. Erika Stafford and discuss making a baby. Forcing herself to sit still, Robin glanced at Lily and received a shy smile in return, confirming her suspicion that Lily was nervous too but covering it better. They’d done extensive research, so they knew what they were doing was called reciprocal, or partner, in vitro fertilization or IVF. Robin’s eggs would be harvested, put in a Petri dish with their donor’s sperm to be fertilized, then implanted in Lily’s uterus where it would, hopefully, grow into a baby Robin.
Dr. Stafford greeted them with a warm smile and they introduced themselves. She shook their hands. “I’m happy to meet you in person after reading about you in the materials you provided.” She led them into her office. Instead of sitting behind her desk, she took a club chair and waved them to the sofa. “I’m sure you’ve read the brochures and done your research so forgive me if I bore you, but I have to review the process with you. The IVF process for lesbians is almost identical to that for heterosexuals except usually the woman who will bear the child hasn’t had a problem conceiving or carrying a child. Lily, you’ll be carrying the baby?”
Lily nodded.
“And you’re both clear that since Robin will provide the eggs, she will have a genetic link with the child and that although Lily will carry the baby her link with the child will be gestational not genetic?”
They spoke simultaneously. “We’re clear.” They smiled at each other.
“A big difference from the heterosexual procedure is that your insurance company will most likely not cover the costs because it’s not medically necessary. That is, as far as we know, Lily could get pregnant the usual way or with a turkey baster.”
They laughed.
“And the cost is not trivial. Each attempt to get pregnant can run fifteen thousand or more dollars, and there’s no way to know how many times we’ll have to repeat the process. Only twenty-eight to thirty-five percent of the women who try IVF get pregnant. I assume the money is no problem for you?”
Robin smiled. “Whatever it takes.”
This was one of those times that being the wife of a billionaire came in handy, Lily thought.
Dr. Stafford nodded. “Have you selected a sperm donor?”
Robin and Lily exchanged a glance. Robin answered. Lucien Arceneaux had been honored to be asked and, after discussing it with his wife, readily agreed. “We have. And an attorney who specializes in third-party parenting is drawing up the necessary papers—for this child and any future children we decide to have with him as the donor.”
“Good. And I assume he’s willing to undergo the donor eligibility testing required by FDA regulations?”
Robin answered again. “He is. And he’ll arrange for the frozen sperm to be here by the time we’re ready for it.”
“Okay. Here’s how it will go. We’ll start by giving you both oral contraceptives to synchronize your menstrual cycles. This can take anywhere from six to nine weeks. We’ll also give Robin medications to stimulate the maturation of the multiple eggs needed. Lily will take medications to help prepare her uterus for implantation.” She looked at each of them. “Are you with me?”
“Yes.” They each answered.
“When your cycles are synchronized, we’ll sedate Robin and retrieve her eggs. Under ultrasound guidance, we insert a needle through your vagina into your ovary to remove your eggs. The fluid obtained is examined under a microscope, and if we are certain eggs are present, it will be placed in a Petri dish with active sperm from your donor.” She smiled at them. “We let them play around for somewhat more than three days, then we check to see whether the eggs have been fertilized. Several days later, if the fertilized eggs are beginning to grow as embryos, we’ll transfer some of them to Lily’s uterus through her cervix with a slender catheter. Thus the possibility of multiple births and a horde of little Robins.
“Lily, you will receive hormones to encourage the embryos to attach to the wall of your uterus and grow. Once we do the transfer, we wait. Your job, Lily, will be to stay quiet for a few hours, then take things easy for about two weeks. We will monitor you. When the embryo is attached and growing, your pregnancy test will be positive and prenatal care begins. If not, we start over.
“So, ladies, are you ready to start on the path to motherhood?”
Lily leaned over and brushed Robin’s lips with hers. “Bring on the horde of little Robins, I say.”
Robin grinned. “What Lily said.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Pregnancy
As she entered the hospital room, Nicole smiled at them. They’d asked Robin’s Harvard roommate to deliver their baby because they both trusted her, but now that there seemed to be a problem, it was comforting to know she was a highly respected obstetric specialist who could handle anything that came up.
“The baby looks fine, but I’m concerned about your ability to carry for the full term, Lily. You’re at twenty-one weeks, and while there are a couple of instances of survival, for all intents and purposes, if he or she were born today, your fetus wouldn’t be viable.”
Robin stiffened. Lily gasped. “Oh my God. Are we going to lose the baby?” She locked Robin’s hand in a death grip. Robin didn’t seem to notice.
“Is Lily at risk?” Robin avoided looking at Lily. “Because if she is, let’s abort and start over.”
“What?” Lily pulled her hand away. “Don’t go there, Robin, if I abort naturally so be it, but I will not choose to abo
rt.”
The anger in the voice of her usually easy-going wife shocked Robin. “I can’t lose—”
Nicole put a hand on each of her friends. “Lily is not in danger, Rob. And as I said, the baby looks fine. I just can’t guarantee it will go to full term.” Her voice was gentle, her calm reassuring to Lily. “But every additional week of gestation increases the probability of a survival. Another two weeks and there’s a seventeen percent chance of survival, three weeks and it increases to thirty-nine percent and four weeks the survival rate goes to fifty percent. If you hold out for six more weeks, the percentages go to ninety or ninety-five.”
Robin was agitated. “You talk about survival, Nicole. What about healthy? Aren’t premature babies usually impaired in some way?”
“Yes, Rob, they can be severely impaired but not all are.”
“Isn’t there something we can do? Whatever it costs, do it.”
“The only thing we know to recommend is complete bed rest, but we’re not even sure that really works. If the baby is very premature and we have some warning, we can increase its chances of surviving by treating Lily with steroids before the birth. The steroids can make a difference in whether or not the baby is able to breathe outside the womb. Once the baby is born, this hospital has an advanced neonatal unit with the highest rating for dealing with premature babies.” She squeezed their hands. “You know I’ll do everything humanly possible to save my niece or nephew.”
Robin was pale. Lily brought Robin’s hand to her lips. “Bed rest is a small price to pay for the life of our baby, and our Jess has your genes so I’m sure she’ll fight to hang on.”
Nicole frowned. “Jess? Did someone in my office slip about the baby’s sex?”
Lily shook her head. “Everybody has been discreet. But we got tired of being abstract so whatever the sex, Jess is the name. I have a few questions about the bed rest, Nicole.”
Nicole smiled. “Why am I not surprised? Fire away.”
“Do I have to stay in bed all the time, or can I get up to shower or use the bathroom? On my back or side, or can I alternate? Can I write if I feel inspired? What about sex?”
“I’d like you to stay off your feet as much as possible. Showering and using the bathroom are fine, but no cooking or laundry or cleaning or lifting. No strolls in the park, but when you get up to use the bathroom, stroll around the apartment for a few minutes to reduce the chances of a blood clot. Alternate your position. If you’re on your side, place a pillow between your legs and bend your knees. On your back, elevate your head and shoulders. Write if you can find a comfortable position but, sorry, no sex. Any other questions?”
“When can I go home?”
“I’ve done the paper work to release you. Call me immediately if you have more contractions or more bleeding.” She rubbed Robin’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Rob. Try to relax or I’ll have to put you on bed rest too. By the way, my mom and dad send their regards. Mom asked whether she should send the chitlins recipe to Lily.”
Robin laughed. “She’s never going to let me forget, is she?”
Nicole grinned. “She loves to tease you.” Her phone beeped. She read the screen. “Sorry, I have a delivery. The nurse should be in shortly to officially discharge you. Take care. Both of you.” She dashed out the door.
“What was that about chitlins?”
“A family joke. My freshman year Katie was committed to spend the Thanksgiving weekend at a Peace Corps training for new volunteers, so I went home with Nicole. All weekend I waited for her mom to serve chitlins and collard greens and fried chicken, you know stereotypical African-American foods, but we had a big turkey dinner with all the trimmings on Thanksgiving, lasagna one night, and grilled salmon another. Finally, I asked, ‘Aren’t we going to have chitlins?’” Robin smiled with the memory.
“Nicole’s mom and dad laughed so hard, they were practically rolling on the floor. My fourteen-year-old self was mortified and totally confused. Seeing I was close to tears, Nicole hugged me. Then her parents pulled themselves together, took turns hugging me, and apologized. Although they are black, Nicole’s mom and dad had never tasted chitlins, actually weren’t even sure what they were. They grew up in New York, but their roots were in Barbados, not the South. It was a good lesson for me about stereotypes. And it’s been a running joke between the four of us ever since.”
Lily was pleased that remembering helped Robin relax. Probably Nicole’s intention.
Robin helped Lily dress. About a half-hour later the nurse arrived with instructions and a wheelchair to transport her to the lobby, and Robin wheeled her down.
Lily blessed Tanya for bringing the luxury town car, which would cushion her on the badly potholed roads through the park. As usual, Tanya got out to assist Lily, but Robin practically shoved her out of the way. When they had settled in, Lily met Tanya’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Thanks for bringing the town car. As you can see, we’re a little stressed. We’ll be better when we get home.”
Tanya nodded. “The baby is okay?”
“Yes. I’ll be on bed rest for a while, but we’ll be fine.” She rubbed Robin’s back then kissed her temple. “Really, Robin, don’t worry, we’ll be okay.”
“Go easy, Tanya, we have precious cargo here.” She put a hand on Lily’s belly. “I’d feel better if I could wrap the two of you in bubble wrap and foam rubber for the next couple of months.”
Lily saw Tanya’s smile in the mirror. “Hmm, that might not be as comfortable as lying in bed and reading or working.” She lifted Robin’s hand and kissed her palm. “Besides, you wouldn’t be able to hold my hand or kiss me.”
Tanya stopped in front of their building. “Need help, Robin?”
“I can handle her, thanks.” She got out of the car and went around to Lily’s side. The doorman had rushed forward to help, but she put her hand up. “If you bring the building’s wheelchair to the curb, I’ll assist her from the car.”
Tanya got out of the car and came around. “Backup.” She watched but didn’t try to intervene as Robin helped Lily to the sidewalk and into the wheelchair. Before they walked into the building, Tanya kissed their cheeks. “Take care. Call if you need anything, even a drug store run or food delivery.”
Robin wheeled her into the bedroom, helped her sit on the bed, slowly undressed her, then pulled her nightgown over her head. She kissed her gently.
Lily held Robin’s face between her hands. “Having you undress me doesn’t exactly make me feel calm. But thank you, sweet Robin.”
“What do you need? Pillows, water, a book, your computer? Name it.”
“I’ll start on my back, so get me more pillows from the closet in the guest room.”
Robin retrieved the pillows and helped her prop herself up.
“Now, book, water and computer, then I’ll take a nap and you can go back to work.”
“No way. I’ll be working from home until you deliver or are allowed out of bed.”
“Oh, sweetie, we’re looking at three months or more. I’ll bet Del will come over to work here during the day, and Annie or Emma will come when they’re not teaching. Or if it makes you feel better, we can hire a nurse for when you’re at work.”
Robin crossed her arms and stared down at her. “Nope. I’m not leaving you. I’ll work from home, and if I do have to go to the office for a sales presentation or something unusual, then we can arrange for someone else to stay with you for a few hours.”
Robin had decided and Lily knew better than to argue. Robin was afraid she was going to lose her and the baby and felt she needed to be there to protect them. If their roles were reversed, she knew she’d feel the same way. She patted the bed. “Come take a nap with me.”
Robin grinned. “That’s more like it.” She slipped her shoes off, climbed on the bed and threw her arm over Lily. “Are you sure she said no sex?”
Lily pinched her. “Nap, you bad girl.”
Chapter Thirty
The Delivery
Lily glanced at the clock. Three eleven a.m. She’d been cramping for what seemed like hours. Neither praying nor using Robin’s steady breathing to calm herself helped. Twenty-four weeks and five days wasn’t nearly enough time. She needed to hold on for Jess. Shit. What was that? She dipped her finger into the liquid that had spurted from between her legs and sniffed. Blood. She’d hoped the cramps would pass, but the blood worried her. She touched Robin’s shoulder. “Robin.” She spoke softly, not wanting to frighten her.
Robin was instantly alert. “Are you okay?” She rolled over and wrapped an arm around her. “Jeez, you’re covered in sweat and the sheets are soaked.” She brushed Lily’s hair away from her face. “Is it Jess?” She turned on her bedside lamp. “Oh shit, you’re bleeding.”
“I need to go to the hospital. Call Nicole, then bring me some towels so I can clean up a little before dressing.”
“I’m calling an ambulance before I do anything.”
“No, no, just get a taxi.” She tried to sit up.
“Absolutely not.”
She recoiled. Robin never spoke to her in that commanding voice.
“Sorry. I’m worried.” She sat on the bed next to Lily and took her hand. “Please, let me take care of you.” She entwined their fingers, then keyed 9-1-1 into her phone. “My wife is a little under twenty-five weeks pregnant and she’s bleeding. We need an ambulance immediately.” She gave the address, then selected Nicole’s emergency number on her cell. “This is Robin DiLuca, I’m taking my wife to the hospital in an ambulance, and we need Dr. Summerfield to meet us there.” Finally, she called down to let the doorman know to send the EMTs right up.
Lily winced as the ambulance sped through the night, seeming to hit every pothole twice. “Where’s the bubble wrap and foam rubber when you need it?”
Robin wiped Lily’s forehead with the gauze the EMT had provided to keep the sweat from dripping into her eyes. “You should have mentioned it before we left home. It’s hidden in my closet, but in the rush to get out, I forgot.”
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