"I am okay," she said, her voice husky with sleep. "In fact I just happen to be okay enough for two people."
"Well, that's good news," Stan said in a voice she knew meant he was about to get friendly. So she wasn't surprised when he moved his hands under her nightgown and up to her breasts, which were already so large and so sore she wasn't able to lie on her stomach. "My, my," he said. "If I didn't know any better . . ."
"You'd say I was pregnant?" she asked, turning to him slowly and carefully to protect her sore breasts.
"You're joking?" he said looking into her eyes.
"I wouldn't joke about this."
Stan's face filled with wonder and elation. "A baby? You're telling me I'm having a baby?" he said proudly, and pulled her so close that she flinched at the hardness of his chest against her sore breasts.
"Yes," she said, and burst into tears from hurt and hormones and confusion.
"Honey, that's extraordinarily profound news. Have you told the kids?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I wanted to tell you first, and because Jeff's never home, and Heidi doesn't return my calls, and . . ."
"And?"
"Because I'm afraid they'll laugh."
"Laugh? I think this is fabulous news. I'm going right out and getting one of those jogging strollers I've seen dads using all up and down Ocean Avenue. It's a great way to take the baby out for fresh air."
"You don't jog."
"I know, but I'll start. I mean, I'm going to have to get in shape for those late-night feedings, and those early-morning wake-ups, and those soccer practices—"
"Oh, my God," Barbara said, feeling as if her breasts were going to explode, and her bladder was full and she was so tired just thinking about it all. "It sounds awful."
"No, it doesn't," Stan said, as puffed out as he had been the day she told him the news about Heidi, twenty-four years earlier. "It sounds great. I'm so glad, believe me, sweetheart, your hormones are just awry now, but you'll see, you're going to be so glad." He kissed her again and again and tenderly moved down to kiss her throbbing breasts.
At least, she thought as his kisses became heated, I don't have to worry what day of the month it is.
"So am I crazy out of my mind if I go ahead and have this baby? I know as usual you'll tell me the brutal truth, won't you, Mother?"
"When have I not?" Gracie asked, smiling. She and Barbara were walking down San Vicente Boulevard. Gracie loved putting on what she laughingly called her "tracksuit" to make her way along the grassy strip with her daughter, greeting the morning runners and walkers.
"I can't understand why there would even be a shred of doubt in your mind," Gracie said. "Believe me, I wish there was a chance for me to do it again. And I say that because it's taken me years to figure out what constitutes being a good mother, and perhaps now in my old age I could do it right. Do as I say, not as I do. Raising a child is the best and most important and most creative act you'll ever perform. Besides, selfishly speaking, I could use another little cherub of a grandchild in my life, so I insist."
Gracie's step faltered for an instant and Barbara held her arm, but then she seemed recovered and they continued. "I was never what you are, good at my work and good at life. My own life was too difficult for me so I lost myself in other people's cultures, values, ways. I guess I was trying to find myself in all of them. But you and your sister, you are without a doubt my greatest accomplishments."
Then she laughed as if she'd just realized something important. "Maybe that was my contribution! I was so bitchy it was a character builder just to be related to me. Eh?"
"That must have been it, Mother," Barbara said.
"What did your husband say when you told him about the baby?" Gracie asked, turning down Twenty-sixth Street so they could stop at the outdoor market for breakfast.
"Are you kidding? He now thinks he's the most potent, virile creature on earth, and he wants to go shopping for a jogging stroller."
Gracie chuckled. "And the kids?"
"Jeff loved the news. He said he'd feel less guilty leaving for college, knowing I had someone else to hug. Heidi thought about it for a while after I told her, then she laughed and said, 'Go for it, Mom. I'll help.' She's been in very good spirits lately. She has a new job, and she's dating a new young man."
"Well, now that we've settled the baby issue, what are you going to do about work? You're always threatening to retire but I know you better than that, so how will you handle the baby and your clientele?"
They stood together at the coffee counter where Barbara watched the woman steam the milk for Gracie's cappuccino. She couldn't help feeling a little stab of envy because since she'd discovered she was pregnant, she'd given up coffee.
"I don't know. They've all come such a great distance, particularly my group who call themselves the Stork Club. The issues they're going to continue to face with their children makes me think I ought to stay with them forever."
"So?"
"So, the groups at the hospital are time-limited. They're scheduled from September through June, and there's a long waiting list to get into them. Practicality dictates that nine months is an adequate time period in which to make any necessary intervention. Then we have to say good-bye and good luck to these families and send them out into the world."
"That's preposterous," Gracie said, moving her arm in a way that almost knocked over the coffee cup the woman behind the counter had just set there. "That'll never work. Certainly not for that group of little ones whose parents had them in all those newfangled ways. Their need for an extended family is going to go on endlessly, and those parents are going to have to put their heads together regularly and figure out what to do about it. You should run that group forever. There must be other people who are needing to get in there and work out those things too."
"There are," Barbara said. "I've been getting a lot of phone calls."
"Well, I suggest you tell your colleagues you refuse to put a time limit on people's emotions, and if they say no, you'll go ahead and run the groups out of your living room if you have to."
Barbara gripped the counter as a freight train of nausea rushed through her body.
"And what'll they have to say to that?" Gracie asked her, picking up her coffee cup and heading for a table.
"Mother, if I can have morning sickness at this point in my life . . . anything can happen."
Louise Feiffer was especially imposing that morning, taller than Barbara remembered, especially articulate in telling Barbara about the budget problems the program was having and her concerns about the upcoming board of directors meetings. When it was Barbara's turn to explain why she had requested this private meeting, she felt a flutter of nervousness. She tried to keep back the emotion she knew was a result of the way she felt about the group and the hormones in her body, which were doing something akin to the Ritual Fire Dance.
She remembered Ruthie Zimmerman telling her about the times she sat in meetings with all the male writers at work, and had to repeat what she called her mantra, which was "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." Barbara said those words to herself now as she talked about why she wanted to have an open-ended continuation of the Stork Club. She knew it wasn't the way the hospital's program usually operated, but she wanted the staff to look closely at the possibility that certain groups would benefit from longer terms.
She watched as Louise took a sip of her coffee. And when she thought about coffee the way she'd watched Louise fix hers, with lots of Coffee-mate and sugar, that made her feel so sick that the floor and the ceiling seemed to get closer together. She hadn't yet told anyone at the hospital she was pregnant.
"Barbara," Louise said, "what I think I'm hearing is on two levels. I understand how it feels every year to terminate these groups. You and I have both been doing this for a while and we acknowledge the solitude we as therapists feel as we let these people go. But I think the process of letting the families separate from us, or leave us b
ehind if you will, closely parallels the emotions we feel about our own children leaving us to go out into the world. And I know that in your case it's exactly what you're going through in your own life now.
"So I'm suggesting that perhaps you should examine if your reluctance to let go of this group could be related to your own separation difficulties at home. The issues around your second child going off to college, a situation which doubtlessly is leaving you feeling empty."
"Oh, Louise." Barbara's knuckles were white from clutching the arm of the chair. "If there's one thing I'm not right now, it's empty," she said, hoping she wasn't going to punctuate that sentence by throwing up all over Louise's desk. Then she took a deep breath, and another, which seemed to steady her insides. "And my nest won't be either, at least not for another seventeen or eighteen years."
"Pardon?"
"I'm going to have a baby," Barbara announced with enormous pride, commingled with the desire to jump to her feet and run to the bathroom, this time to pee, which she seemed to be doing every few minutes. To say that Louise looked shocked didn't begin to describe her reaction.
"No," Barbara said, "I'm not asking to keep this group going because I can't separate. I'm asking because I learned together with them that every day brings new surprises and questions, and I want to be there to help them answer those questions as time goes on. When the children start school and other kids ask them about who they are. When they're preadolescent and they ask themselves who they are, and when they're adolescent and struggling with their identities. Their unusual genesis will always be an issue. So please consider that it will teach all of us a great deal more about these people if we can follow through. And understand that I believe in this so powerfully that if it can't be done here, I'll want to move it into my private practice."
"Let me think about this," Louise said, "and we'll talk more by the end of the week."
The group seemed more subdued this morning than Barbara had seen them so far. "I want to talk today about the burdens and dangers of secrecy," she said to them. "I don't mean privacy, because what you tell the outside world doesn't concern me as much as what you tell the children and one another. And I used those serious words 'dangers' and 'burdens' because when there are secrets, the out-of-control fantasies that come with not knowing and the gossip that inevitably puts a negative spin on something you did for positive reasons can and will be damaging. Telling your children the right way from the start will keep them from learning the wrong way.
"Again I urge you to keep information you give them simple and age appropriate. Mostly at this time in their lives what they really need to know is that they're safe and loved, but also remember that before there are words for situations, your children will sense what's going on. And eventually the stories will come out. Openness is the healthiest option, and that will mean that the story of their genesis has to become a natural part of their lives."
"Won't it make them feel freaky?" Judith asked.
"Not if it's told in a way that speaks to how much they were wanted and how much they're loved. For example, Judith, share what you know about the donor even if it's not very much. When they get to asking about it all you might say how much you wanted children, but that it takes seeds, or later on you can say sperm from a man to make a baby. But there wasn't a man in your family, so you went to a place where a very generous man gave his sperm so you could have them. And that's when you might say, And he likes reading and music just like you and Jody."
"What if they ask what his name is?"
"You don't know, so tell them that, and you might also tell them that someday they may get to meet him.''
Everyone was quiet, thinking about what Barbara had just said.
People usually think we're a married couple,'' Ruthie said. "Most of the time I leave it alone. Soon we'll start applying to schools for Sid, and when they find out about his family history, I wonder what to do."
"Sid will find out too, and talking about it early will show him you don't connect anything negative to his family situation. Counteract the myths and neutralize the name-calling by making him know homosexuality isn't bad, or wrong, but part of life. It'll be a long time until the subject of sexual orientation has an impact on him, but when there are homophobic slurs, do the same thing you'd do in the face of any other inappropriate behavior. Tell him, 'We don't like to say hurtful words like that in our family.' "
"I agree with all that you've been saying,'' Rick said. "I mean, I went on record right away as saying Doreen would always be a part of David's family, but I believe that ultimately it was secrecy that killed her. I think it was keeping the secret inside about David's birth father and the fear of talking about it that finally became too much for her. Maybe if she could have told her mother, told a psychologist, told a friend—but the shame was too deep. I'll always tell David how bright and funny and warm she was. And somehow down the line I'll have to find a way to tell him about her death."
The group, sometimes so boisterous and jovial, was thoughtful and quiet today. Even the children outside in the play yard were occupied with quiet things and only let out an occasional squeal.
"What about your relationship with Jackie?'' Barbara asked Lainie and Mitch.
Lainie spoke up. "Well, as you said to us once, being a good parent isn't related to the way we became a parent, and I know I couldn't love Rose more if she'd grown inside me. And I guess it's because I love her that I understand why Jackie has to be in her life. I'm still hurt about Mitch's deception, I still think he handled it poorly, but so does he. We're working on putting our relationship back together, building the trust back, and also trying to figure out the healthiest way to include Jackie in Rose's world.
"The truth is I like and respect Jackie, and I know she'll bring a lot of her joy of life, and sense of humor, and big-heartedness to the situation and to Rose's life. But I'm going to have to work very hard not to resent her. I mean, I know you can't live your life in fear of the future. God knows, I could have died a thousand deaths by now if I had, but if someday Rose looks at me and says, 'I want to go and be with Jackie because I'm like her and not like you,' I don't know how I'll get through it."
"We both know secrets are no good because I nearly destroyed our marriage by trying to keep one," Mitch said, his arm around his wife.
"As you know," Barbara said, "based on the way the programs at this hospital work, this group was scheduled to be over in a few months. But I asked for an unlimited continuation of our work so that we can confront the ongoing issues that will come up for your families from year to year. I thought you'd like to know that, as of this morning, it's been approved."
"Bravo. Hooray!" There was a positive response from all of them. "Thank God," Lainie said, "we're going to need it, because Mitch and I are talking about the possibility of adopting a baby. An unadoptable child this time."
Ruthie announced that she and Shelly and Sid would need more time to talk things out too, because she was engaged. She held up her hand upon which was a ring with a very large sparkling diamond. And Rick reported, just as an aside, that he and Shelly were taking Shelly's screenplay to Universal, hoping to make a deal there.
Soon it was time for the children to come in, but Barbara signaled to Dana to give her one more moment alone with the grown-ups. "Since we spent some time today talking about your secrets, I'd like to tell you one of mine.'' They all looked at her as she smiled and said, "I'm pregnant."
A whoop went up from the group and everyone ran over to hug her and encircle her with their warm congratulations. She felt flushed and moved and connected to each of them.
"Needless to say, or maybe not so needless, it was a surprise. At first, one that made me furious at myself, but then on reflection, thinking about all of you and your struggles to make and be families, I was inspired, and I realize that I'm very lucky and very blessed."
Now Dana led the children into the room. They all had their snack of grape juice and peanut-butter crackers, and sang
"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Where Is Thumbkin."
Today Barbara said she would read to them. As soon as she located her reading glasses in her purse, she opened a book that was one of her favorites, The Velveteen Rabbit. The sweet story seemed to charm the toddlers, who sat quietly.
" ' "What is real?" asked the rabbit. "Real isn't how you are made," said the skin horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real." "Does it hurt?" asked the rabbit. "Sometimes," said the skin horse, for he was always truthful. "But when you are real, you don't mind being hurt." ' " For a minute Barbara had to stop, because there was a catch in her voice and the words of the story were making her feel choked up, or maybe, she thought, it's just my hormones going mad. But when she looked up and saw the eyes of all the parents, she knew they were feeling the same way from the message of the book.
When reading time was over, she hugged every child and every parent good-bye, and walked back to her office to return phone calls and open her mail. She smiled to herself as she passed through the corridors, remembering that not so long ago the thought of retirement had actually crossed her mind. Her step was light as she moved past the offices of the other staff members, buzzing with arriving families.
Retirement for a full-of-life woman like me? Full of life, she laughed, and hope and exciting ideas? Ridiculous, she thought, that she'd ever even considered retirement, and she felt joyful and amazed at the wonderful way in which life goes on!
The Stork Club Page 38