Monday morning I was exhausted. I needed to go into the office, which I figured would be good, would give me some space. Despite the push to open plan, and then pandemic-driven hybrid working, I had managed to retain an office. I was glad to be able to close the door and think. Doubts assailed me. This was crazy, right? I thought of Ava with a swollen belly, my child inside her. I thought of her nursing it. My mind went back to Josh and Alexis. Alexis? What would I tell her?
Then there was me. I think I had been a good Dad when they were growing up. I wished that I had prioritized them more over work. But many men of my age surely felt the same. My age? Fifty now. Fifty-one when it would be born. Nearly seventy when it went to college, if I was even still around. Was that fair on a child? Could my aging body deal with the sleepless nights? What about other kids? “Is that your Dad or your Grandfather?” This made no sense.
Then I thought of her. I thought of Ava finding her Father’s lifeless body. I thought of her restorative love for my son. I thought about her now being broken, just like me, and a chance for her to heal. I thought about just how much she wanted this. She had thought it through. She was twice as smart as me and had made up her mind. I thought of her smiling while cradling a baby.
Then me again. But different. I thought about time with Josh. Rocking him to sleep. His first steps. His first word. Helping with homework. Throwing baseballs. His graduation. I saw his face. Tears ran down my cheeks. Was this a chance to reclaim just a little of what I too had lost? Or was that a selfish thought?
I had some meetings. It was hard to concentrate, but I did my best. I grabbed lunch. I thought again. Wrestled with my feelings. The one constant was her. I wanted to help Ava. I wanted to protect her. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her too. It was time to head home. I was still confused, how could you not be? But I had a priority, and that priority was Ava.- – –DAY ONE
Ava opened the door as I was trying to put the key in the lock. She had clearly been waiting. Inside, I was brief and to the point.
“Green light. OK. Let’s try to do this.”
Ava held both my hands.
“Are you sure? Really sure?”
“No. But yes. I’m worried. I have lots of concerns. But I’m going to do this.”
She hugged me and whispered, “thank you” in my ear.
Ava took me through her protocol. That word again. She had adapted it from IVF, and explained that maybe some of the cleaning didn’t need to be as scrupulous given the sample would be used immediately. Sample? Used immediately? I did begin to feel like I was part of her experiment.
We went to her bedroom. I cleaned myself in her shower room, as Ava had directed. I peeled the sterile wrapper off the jar she had given me, and placed it on the bathroom shelf. I had undressed to wash and looked at myself in the mirror. Gray traced the hair on my head and chest. I’d let myself go since the accident. But there were traces of the man I used to be. I should start to run again. I needed to look after myself. I needed to be around. Around for Ava and for it. It? Such an impersonal term.