Her Baby Donor

by Chance Carter

  Once I gave them the all-clear, Tina and three other nurses took turns checking on Casey, timing how far apart her contractions were. They seemed to be getting closer and closer together, which I knew only meant one thing: the baby would be here soon.

  Mid-contraction, Casey squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to her. “Call your family and Liana,” she said. “They should know we’re here.”

  I had to admit that even I was impressed with how thoughtful my bride was. In the midst of what had to be one of the most painful experiences of her life, she was still worrying about everyone else. She’d told me about a week earlier that, when she did have the baby, she wanted Liana to be the first call. Casey had been the very first person Liana had reached out to when she was in labor, and Casey wanted to extend the same courtesy.

  Not wanting to be the subject of her wrath, I followed Casey’s instructions. I was nervous about the possible awkwardness of the conversation with Liana, given that we’d only met a handful of times, but I quickly learned that the news of the labor trumped everything else. I gave Liana the hospital information and tried to answer as many questions as I could about contractions and dilation. Liana finally seemed to get the memo that I didn’t know anything other than that my wife was having a baby, because she said goodbye with a promise to come over as soon as she fed the twins their bottle.

  The next phone call was easier but more nerve-racking. My parents were about to become grandparents.

  Instead of answering with her usual chipper voice, my mother surprised me with a curt tone. “Alexander Marcus Preston, didn’t I raise you better than to use your cell phone on your wedding night?” she demanded. “Get off this phone and go spend time with your bride.”

  “Mom,” I said, catching her just in time.

  “What is it?”

  I drew in a breath and let the words fall out. “Casey’s in labor.”

  “OH MY GOD!” My mother screamed so loud that I was certain that, despite not being on speakerphone, everyone around me could hear her. “Marc! The baby’s coming!” The call ended with a click on the other end.

  I took my mother’s scream and abrupt hang-up as her way of saying they’d come over soon. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t even told her the name of the hospital or given her directions before she hung up. I quickly sent her a text message with the information before heading back into the room where Casey was.

  The doctors and nurses had all cleared out by the time I came back. Casey’s face, though covered with beads of sweat and a look of clear fatigue, was angelic. I’d never met a more naturally beautiful person in my life. I kissed her quickly and sat down beside her. “All we can do is wait,” Casey said.

  “All we can do is wait,” I agreed.

  I started a discussion about our first impressions of each other’s relatives and friends we’d met at the wedding as a way of distracting Casey from the pain. Lucky for me, she was on board. We talked about her strange friend Jane, who thought her first grade teaching tips would somehow be relevant for my high school teacher brother, and my Uncle Richard, who was a notoriously horrible hug-giver. “You know who takes the cake? Your cousin Carrie!” Casey exclaimed.

  “I’ve known that for years,” I said with a laugh. “But what makes you say that?”

  Casey threw her head back and laughed her way through another contraction. “I met her before the ceremony, and she pulled me aside and told me that she had some great tips on getting back into sex after having a baby,” she said. I opened my mouth to respond, but Casey held her hand up, motioning to me that she wasn’t done. “That’s not all. During the reception, she came up to me not one, but three different times asking if I had any Benadryl. At my wedding!”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, Carrie’s kind of the worst.”

  “Did you meet my cousin Sandra?” Casey asked. “She’s an interesting character.”

  “Is she the one with the really bad snaggletooth?”

  Casey giggled. “That’s the one.”

  “Oh, I met her, alright,” I said, shuddering. I raised my voice and threw my hands in the air as if I was putting on a show. “She planted a big, fat kiss right on my lips.”

  Casey snickered as I made jokes about how her cousin had traumatized me for life. After several minutes, a flood of two nurses and a doctor broke up our conversation as they examined Casey. “Well, Mrs. Preston, you’re fully dilated,” the doctor said.

  “And what does that mean, exactly?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound like a complete idiot.

  The doctor pulled his surgical mask over his mouth. “It’s go-time.”

  Chapter 35

  Casey

  Nothing I’d read, nothing I’d heard about, and nothing that anyone had told me had prepared me for the pain of delivering a baby. I now understood why mothers used, “I gave birth to you”, as a bargaining chip for years after the fact. It was a sensation like no other, one I was not in the mood for after four hours of laboring.

  I heard the word, “Push”, over and over again from doctors and nurses and Alexander, but, the more I heard it, the more I wanted to squeeze in just to rebel. I wanted to scream at them that I was pushing as hard as I could. When I’d spent all those years dreaming about having a child, I’d never pictured this exact moment.

  My hair clung to my sweaty forehead as I tried to follow the doctors’ directions. I just wanted this baby out of me already. “You’re doing great, babe,” Alexander said. How could he be so calm? I glanced over at my new husband, who looked handsome as ever, still in his tuxedo from the wedding. He gave me the little motivation I needed to force another push.

  “We’re almost there,” one of the nurses said to me. I zoned out for the remainder of my laboring. I took my mind to another time and place, to a beach with my mother when I was a child. I pictured us walking down the shoreline, collecting seashells in a pink bucket I’d taken with me on every trip to the beach. Mom’s smile told me everything was going to be alright.

  The next thing I knew, a baby’s cries were filling the small hospital room. “You did it, babe,” Alexander said, kissing my forehead.

  “Congratulations,” the doctor said. “You have a healthy, beautiful baby girl.”

  They placed the baby on my stomach and I felt my heart rate quicken. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Her little nose was scrunched, and her teeny face was pure sweetness. The doctors ran some minor tests on her, but all I could do was stare at this majestic human Alexander and I had created.

  “We’ll give you three a few minutes alone,” one of the nurses said. “Congratulations, again.”

  As the medical personnel left the room, I felt what it was like to be a family of three for the first time. It had only been a matter of minutes, but I knew my life would never be the same. I gently ran my hand along the baby’s blanket and looked up at Alexander. “It’s been a crazy nine months, huh?” I joked.

  “You can say that again,” Alexander said with a grin. “You did great, Case. She’s beautiful.”

  “Well I had a damn good sperm donor,” I shot back, hoping Alexander would take it as lightly as I meant it.

  “That you did,” he said.

  Alexander looked at me tenderly. “Have you given any thought to what we should name her?” he asked. “I think we kind of dropped the ball on that one.”

  I laughed. If only Alexander knew that I’d had some baby names in my back pocket since I was a teenager. “I was thinking Madeleine,” I said.

  “Madeleine,” Alexander repeated. His lips formed a smile. “It’s perfect.”

  “I thought I’d let you pick the middle name,” I said. After all, Madeleine was a product of both of us. I knew Liana hadn’t given Greg an ounce of input into their children’s names, but I wanted Alexander to have input. “I do have veto power, though, of course.”

  Alexander chuckled. “Of course.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “I do have one,” he said. “Joanna.”
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  Tears trickled down my cheeks for what felt like the twentieth time in the span of twenty-four hours, but I couldn’t help it. The fact that Alexander wanted our baby’s name to honor my mother meant everything. “Madeleine Joanna Preston,” I whispered. I looked down at the tiny baby in my arms and back up at her wonderful father. “I love it.”

  “I have another idea,” Alexander said.

  “And what is that?” I asked. I couldn’t focus on anything except my baby girl. Madeleine. She even looked like a Madeleine, I decided.

  Alexander waited for me to look back up at him before he resumed speaking. “You know that picture you have on your nightstand? The one of you and your mother?” As if he was trying to jog my memory of the picture I’d spent hours of my life staring at, Alexander walked over to our suitcase and pulled the framed photograph out of the front compartment.

  I found myself breathless, surprised beyond belief. I hadn’t seen the photo of my mother since I’d moved into the house with Alexander. I looked down at myself, and again at the picture, and realized that I was my mother in that picture, cradling my baby girl and beaming from ear-to-ear. “Of course I know the picture,” I whispered. “The only picture I have left of me and my mom.”

  “I thought maybe we could recreate it,” Alexander said, his hands nervously in his pockets. “You know, take one of you and Madeleine in the same pose. We can find a picture frame with two compartments and put the pictures together.”

  I nodded as I tried my best to remain composed until after the picture was taken. I’d thought nothing could top the thoughtfulness of his last gesture, naming our baby after my mother, but I was wrong. As Alexander held up his phone, I looked down at my baby girl and smiled for the camera.

  It had been a long two days since Madeleine had entered our lives, but I wouldn’t have traded them for the world. Alexander’s parents, still in town from our wedding, had been our first visitors at the hospital, followed by his siblings several hours later. Liana had stopped by the day after I gave birth to bring me white chocolate macadamia cookies and introduce Madeleine to Hailey and Aiden, her future best friends. The hospital staff was all wonderful, but I was ready to be home.

  I sat in the backseat with Madeleine as she took her first ride in her car seat. I wasn’t sure who was more nervous—me, sitting in the back with our baby girl, or Alexander, who drove ten miles under the speed limit the whole way home. It was completely new territory for us.

  The familiarity of our home greeted us as I held onto Madeleine’s carrier with both hands. We walked through the foyer into the kitchen, where several gift baskets, flower arrangements, and food platters were waiting. “What’s all this?” I asked.

  Alexander shrugged “They were all here when I came to set everything up this morning,” he said.

  The first of the two bouquets had a card signed from Preston Solutions. Alexander made a lame joke about how he’d probably been the one who paid for the flowers, and we moved onto the next one. The gorgeous bouquet of bright-colored roses and lilies looked oddly familiar.

  I turned to Alexander. “This may sound odd, but I think this is the exact bouquet my mom used to send to everyone,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Every birthday, every holiday, every retirement, every milestone, my mom sent out a bouquet of mixed lilies and roses,” I explained. “It looked just like this.”

  The card attached to the vase reaffirmed my belief. Dearest Casey, Congratulations on the birth of your beautiful baby girl. Your mother would be so proud of you, and these are the flowers she would have sent. Love, the New York Donohues.

  Alexander wrapped me in a hug that he surely knew I needed after an exhausting and emotional few days. We finished going through the remaining items on the counter: a fruit basket and teddy bear from Jane, a lunch platter from Alexander’s friend Brett, and a basket of dried fruit and nuts from the clinic that told me there were no hard feelings about me leaving.

  “That’s sweet of them,” I said. “Especially considering they just lost the best sperm donor they had.”

  That got a chuckle out of Alexander and a cry out of Madeleine. I held her in my arms and gently rocked her until she calmed down. We made our way up the stairs as I tried not to think about everything that wasn’t ready. “Is the crib set up? I know we’ll have to get a better one down the line, but it was all I could get at the last-minute, and…” I lost my ability to speak— and my eyes widened— as I looked into the room that we’d designated as the nursery.

  Everything was completely put together. A gorgeous, white crib that was a hundred times nicer than the crib I’d gotten stood against the back wall, with a gorgeous mobile hanging above it. On the wall beside it was a matching changing table with a baby monitor atop, and a dresser, the drawers open to reveal endless amounts of onesies and blankets.

  “Oh my gosh,” I whispered. I put Madeleine’s carrier on the floor and stepped forward to explore the room more. “Who did this?”

  Alexander could hardly contain his smile. “My family,” he said. “Our family.”

  I was overwhelmed, both by the generosity of Alexander’s family and by the fact that he’d referred to them as “our” family. I walked over toward the changing table and saw that they’d also bought a Diaper Genie. In the opposite corner stood an antique-looking rocking chair. My favorite part of the whole room was above the changing table. Madeleine Joanna was spelled out in big, wooden letters covered in pink and purple paint.

  “Who made those?” I asked, pointing to the letters. I looked over my shoulder to see Alexander cradling our baby in his arms.

  “Emily,” he said. “As soon as I told her Madeleine’s name, she ran over to the craft store and got to work.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  After a quick diaper change, we put our sleepy baby girl into her crib for the first time. Alexander’s parents stopped by to check on us and bring us some much-needed coffee. We sat and ate lunch with them as we gave them the play-by-play of all that had happened since we’d seen them two days earlier. They seemed genuinely thrilled at the idea that they were now officially grandparents.

  “Marc, come on,” Lynn said when we were done eating. She spoke in a hushed tone, clearly trying not to wake the baby. “I want to show you an adorable onesie I bought Madeleine.”

  We all tiptoed up the stairs and crowded into the nursery. Lynn walked over and pulled out a mint green-colored onesie from the second drawer of the nightstand. In gold letters, it said “Grandpa’s Little Princess.” Marc would never admit it, but I was certain that he welled up with tears at the sight of it.

  I walked over to the crib and looked at my sleeping angel. She was perfect. I looked around me and realized that, for the first time, I had everything I could ever want or need. I was finally part of a family.

  Chapter 36

  Alexander

  Three months later.

  Madeleine’s whine pierced through the baby monitor, waking me from a light sleep. Casey let out a groan. I knew what that meant. “Don’t worry, Case,” I said. “I’ve got it.” I grabbed the fleece robe from the back of my closet door and wrapped it around me as I headed across the hall. Madeleine was fussing about in her crib, her tiny fingers holding onto her blanket.

  “What’s the matter, sweet girl?” I whispered, pulling her up and cradling her on my chest. She continued crying for another few minutes as I paced back and forth in her bedroom with her. I settled for the chair in the corner of her room. I held her in my arms and realized that I was one of my buddies now. I was one of the guys who went out for drinks to take a break from cries and complaints and dirty diapers. I was the guy who got up in the middle of the night to take care of a fussing child. But, as surprising as it was, I couldn’t be happier.

  I hadn’t known before meeting Casey if I would be any good at being a husband or father, but they both seemed to come so naturally to me. I supposed it had just been about findi
ng the right girls. I rocked Madeleine for another few minutes and hoped that was enough to calm her down. When her eyes finally shut, I gently kissed her soft forehead and laid her back in the crib. Just as her mother did, she laid on her back and let out a quiet, adorable snore. She was just precious.

  Back in the master bedroom, I took off my robe and slid back under the covers beside Casey. The clock told me I had another three hours before I had to get up and get ready for work. Casey would follow an hour later and get Madeleine ready for the sitter before joining me at the office. This was my new normal.

  It was Friday afternoon, one hour from office closing time, with everyone impatiently waiting for the weekend to arrive. This was how every Friday went. I, along with the upper management, knew to never schedule anything extraordinarily important after three o’clock on Friday afternoons, because everyone was already mentally off work for the weekend. This rang especially true for the gorgeous early summer weather we’d been experiencing. I made my usual rounds around the office, meeting with my executive team and chatting with the interns. I enjoyed my Friday office sweep, as I referred to it, each week, as it helped keep me in touch with employees of all positions and levels. I had one more stop to make before heading back to my office to finish up for the week.

  I made my way to the front of the floor, where the administrative desk was. “Mrs. Preston,” I said. Casey looked up at me with a grin. “May I please speak with you for a moment?”

  Casey had adjusted seamlessly to Preston Solutions, just as I knew she would. She had already become friendly with some of the girls on the operations team and gone out for drinks with them a few times. There was something fun—and surprisingly sexy—about working at the same place as my significant other. Even though everyone knew we were married, it was still like we had some sort of secret relationship or language that only we understood.