by Vivian Ward
It was evident that he felt awkward and uncomfortable around me, that is after he finally came back in the room. When Angela—the woman from the surrogate agency—brought him in to meet with me at our initial sit-down, his eyes bulged out of his head, and his face turned crimson before he turned and stormed out of the room. I can still remember their conversation that they had in the hallway as I listened in. It went something like this:
“Mr. Adams! Wait, please wait!”
“You don’t mean to tell me that you expect me to go through with this? She’s black! Black!”
“I’m sorry Mr. Adams, but you did not mark a preference for your profile in the section where it asked about what you were looking for in a surrogate in regards to ethnicity.”
“I did so!”
“No, you didn’t.” I heard her wrestling with the folder from under her arm as she opened it up while she sifted through all the papers. “Okay, here’s the paper right here,” I heard her pop out a sheet of paper from the stack. “Right here, it asks about race, and you didn’t mark any preference.”
Knowing him a little better now, I can almost see his face. “I see. You’re right, but I’d prefer to have a Caucasian surrogate. What do you need me to do? Just check the Caucasian box?”
“You can, if you’d like, but I must tell you this upfront: we don’t have many surrogates. Right now, the few we have are pregnant or just gave birth and are not healed enough to take on another pregnancy. If you want to have the baby this year, she might be your only option. Otherwise, we can put you on a waitlist when the next Caucasian surrogate becomes available.”
And with that, he cordially rejoined me in the small room where Angela had placed me since I arrived before he did.
“Tasha, Dr. Jackson says you’re all ready to go down to the O.R., so I’m going to go ahead and take you down there,” Kathryn said as she broke me from my daydream. It’s crazy how this all started.
“Let’s do it!”
Her feet hit the pedals under my bed, allowing it to become mobile, as she started our journey down the hall.
God, I’m so nervous.
My heartbeat increased as my palms became sweaty. A feeling of heaviness weighed on my chest, making it hard to breathe. The doors to the operating room popped open, where I saw Dr. Jackson and a few nurses.
“Are you going to stay with me?” I whispered to Kathryn.
“You bet! I’ll stay right here next to you.” Her head turned toward the team of nurses and the doctor, “She’s ready.”
A blue sheet was draped in front of me. All of the nurses chattered about some TV show that they all watch. I hadn’t heard of it.
Looking around the room, I can’t feel a thing the doctor is doing. His face crept over the makeshift drape, “Okay Tasha, you’re going to feel a bit of pressure. I’m going to pull the baby out in a second.”
“Okay,” my teeth chattered. This operating room is ice cold. “Kathryn, can I have another blanket, please?”
“Yes, I’ll grab you one. Are you feeling okay? You’re shaking quite a bit.”
“I feel nauseated.”
“She needs more meds for nausea,” she told the anesthesiologist.
The tall man leaned over me, injecting clear liquid into my IV as she disappeared to retrieve a blanket. Feeling pressure in my abdomen, I knew the doctor was taking the baby.
Please let him be okay.
“He’s here!” Dr. Jackson announced. The pressure in my abdomen subsided right before I heard the baby cry for the first time.
Tears of joy trickled down my cheeks as I thought about the miracle I’d just given Blake. Kathryn returned with my blanket, her jaw wide open, her lips forming the perfect ‘O’.
“H…hh..hhere’s your blanket,” she stuttered, not taking her eyes off the baby.
“What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer me. “Kathryn, what’s wrong?” I can’t see past the drape.
Oh, please, let him be formed properly.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she gasped. “Do you want to see him?”
“Can I? Yes!” I can’t help myself. I love babies, always have.
Kathryn walked past the drape where the other nurses were as she took the baby from them and brought him back to me.
What the hell? He’s black! How is he black? Oh no. No. No. No. Blake is going to die when he sees this!
“He’s black! How is he black?”
The baby started to cry again. Kathryn swaddled the blue blanket tighter around him as she rocked him, trying to soothe the baby.
“I…I don’t know. You said you were a gestational surrogate, right?”
“Yes! Oh, my word! He’s going to kill me when he sees that baby!”
“Tasha, I’m sure—”
“Put him back in! Put him back! His daddy’s going to kill me if he sees a black baby.”
“Tasha,” Dr. Jackson said in a stern tone, “I need you to hold still while I sew you back up. You yelling like that isn’t good. Nurse, I need another rag, please.”
“Dr. Jackson! This baby’s black!” Hysteria and panic were setting in. If he sees a black baby, he’s going to be livid. I know it! “What in the hell happened?”
“Tasha, please. We’ll discuss this after you come out of recovery. Right now, I need you to stay quiet and be still. Now please!”
While laying completely still for the doctor, I thought about what Blake’s face will look like when he sees his son for the first time.
He’s going to be so mad and disappointed.
They told me when they did this that it was his wife’s egg and his sperm, the baby would not have any of my genes or DNA. I was carrying a white baby; there was no doubt about it—until now. The room became colder, causing me to shiver more.
“Another blanket?” Kathryn looked at me sympathetically.
“Yeah, and a bodyguard too!”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s not going to be too upset. You’re making him a daddy today and giving him a beautiful son.”
“Kathryn,” I grabbed her hand. “How is this baby black?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. You’ll have to ask Dr. Jackson about that. I’ll hurry with your blanket; they’ll be moving you to recovery soon.”
The anesthesiologist pushed another round of pain meds and anti-nausea medication into my IV right as she returned with my blanket.
Within minutes, I was in a drug-induced daze as they wheeled me into a small hallway with a triage of makeshift rooms separated by curtains. I’m not sure how long I was out, but I was still sleepy as hell when I woke up.
I looked around, seeing if there were any nearby nurses, but my curtain was closed. I drifted back to sleep and dreamed about Blake and the baby. A nurse interrupted the dream that I was having by shaking me.
“Tasha? Natasha? Wake up.”
I opened my eyes and looked up at her name tag, which read, “Sarah.” Still groggy from the drugs, I looked around to see if anyone—mainly Blake—was there. It was only her.
“Yeah, I’m awake.” Oh, the pain in my stomach. My face winced as I tried to sit up in bed.
“What’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten, with 10 being the highest?”
“Um, probably an eight or a nine,” I whispered. It’s hard to breathe, and it’s hot in here! This place is nothing like the operating room.
“I’ll grab your meds, and I’ll be right back. Don’t try to move anymore until I can check your incision.”
I collapsed, my head landing on the pillow behind me.
God, I forgot how bad C-sections can hurt when you first wake up from surgery.
Thinking about the baby, I smiled. He is cute. His complexion is perfect, and he has the tiniest little lips. Oh, I wish he was mine. I would hug him and kiss him and snuggle with him all the time.
“Here you go, Tasha,” she handed me two blue pills in a clear plastic medicine cup. “And here’s you some water.” She eagerly waited for me to swallow the pills be
fore taking the water and medicine cup from me and placing them on the table. “I need you to lay back so I can check your incision.”
Trying to lay as flat as I could is almost impossible with the way my bed is elevated. The nurse lifted my hospital gown and prodded around until she was satisfied.
“Okay, Tasha. Everything looks good. I’m going to get you some fresh ice packs to put on that, and I’ll let the doctor know how you’re doing. We should have you moved into a regular room shortly.”
Those were the words I’d been dreading to hear.
“They’ll move me to a regular room.”
The last time I spoke to Blake, we talked about him coming to see me in the regular room after I gave birth since I wouldn’t allow him in the room while I was having the baby. With Carter being black, I’m sure he’s going to have plenty to say. I offered a weak smile as I thanked her and she left my makeshift room. Facing Blake is the last thing I want to do right now.
Blake
Sitting in my car, I have been trying to get through to the lawyer’s office for almost 30 minutes. With the line busy, it’s impossible to get through. Watching the cars drive past me, I spotted a few with kids in the backseats.
“I bet they weren’t surprised what color their baby was when it was born.” I envied those people.
Why can’t things go right for me? At least once? The last three years of my life have been miserable and slow since I buried her, my wife that is. It’s funny, you never realize how much you love someone until they’re gone. I know, it’s a cliché phrase, but it’s true.
Ever since Debbie died, I haven’t been able to get close to anyone or let anyone in. I’ve been distant, cold and isolated. Most of my relationships with friends, family and co-workers have fallen by the wayside. And a love life? Debbie was the love of my life. I miss her more with each passing day.
Honestly, I’ve not even considered dating because it’s automatically off the table. There’s not a woman on this planet who could take her place. It wouldn’t be fair to try to get back into the dating game knowing that I’d compare every woman to her.
Still trying to get through, I started to think about how I can’t even drive to my attorney’s office if I wanted to. With Tasha delivering in New Bedford, where she lives, and my attorney being in Boston, I’m looking at two hours of total drive time—if there’s not much traffic going there and coming back.
That doesn’t even include how long I would have to sit in his office explaining everything to him. God! I punched the dash. All I want to do is call him and tell him that she screwed up the deal and see what I can do about it, find out what my rights are now.
If that Darnell guy is right and the baby is all hers, there is no way the hospital staff is going to let me walk out of there with another person’s baby. Hitting the call button on my phone, I was surprised when it actually started to ring. I’ve only been trying to get through for the last 45 minutes!
“Marquidt Law Office,” the secretary answered.
“May I speak to Logan, please?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Marquidt is busy at the moment, but I’ll be glad to take a message and have him return your call tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I shouted. “Listen, I’ve been a client of his for almost a year, and I need to speak to him now! My surrogate mother just gave birth to a child that isn’t mine. I don’t have an extra day to wait around!”
“Oh…” she sounds stunned. “Um, let me see if I can get him to answer your call. I’ll have to walk back to his office to explain what’s going on. It’ll be a few moments.”
“Fine!”
The outdated music blared from my speaker as it crackled on the line.
Why don’t these people ever update their damn phone systems?
Continuing to wait, I began to think about what I’ll say when he gets on the line. Where do I even start?
“This is Logan Marquidt” he picked up.
“Yes! Logan, this is Blake Adams. We have a big problem! Tasha gave birth this morning to a black baby!”
“A black baby? Did I hear you correctly?”
“Yes! What are we going to do?”
“One moment while I grab your file.” I heard him wrestling through a file cabinet. Most likely the tall brown one that was behind his desk. Completely familiar with his office from all the times I’ve been there, I can tell you exactly where everything is—even the pictures of his kids and what order they’re in. “Now it looks like she was a gestational surrogate, using your wife’s egg and your sperm. Is that correct?”
“Yes! But the baby is black. My late wife and I are obviously white. She screwed me over on this deal somehow; I just know it!”
“I thought she wasn’t due for almost another 12 weeks? Right? In April? This is only January.”
“Right, but she developed pre-eclampsia and has been in the hospital for the last week. They’ve been giving her a steroid regimen to boost the baby’s lungs so he’d have a better chance of survival once he was born.”
“And how is he?”
“He’s in the nursery. I don’t know much more beyond that. I was so shocked that I walked out without holding him or asking any questions.” Suddenly, guilt washed over me. How can I already be such a shitty dad? No, wait. He's not even mine. There’s no way he’s mine!
“That’s all right. Now, I’m supposed to be in court this afternoon, but I’m going to speak to the judge and see if I can’t get the court case postponed. If I can, I’ll head up to….” He started shuffling papers again.
“New Bedford. She wanted to deliver near her home, so we’re in New Bedford.”
“Thank you. Yes, let me see what I can do. Are you calling from your cell phone? If so, I’ll call you back on this number and let you know what my plans are.”
“Yeah, it’s my cell phone.”
He seemed so calm and mellow, the complete opposite of me. I guess when you’ve been an attorney as long as he has, you’ve probably seen it all.
Now, what am I supposed to do? Sit in my car and wait for his call or go back inside?
Opting for the ladder, I chose to go back inside. The least I can do is go back inside and see my son—if the legal system allows me to take him, that is. Since she signed a contract, I have every legal right to take him, don’t I?
Either way, I’m going to check on that baby and wait for her ass to get out of recovery. I can’t wait to talk to her! I can already imagine how she’s going to try to spin this story.
The sleek elevator doors slid open as I reached the fourth floor of the hospital. Darnell was still sitting in the waiting area.
“Hey, have you heard anything about your wife yet?” I might as well try to act like a decent human being to remind myself that am one.
“Nah, not yet. She’s probably still having false labor pains. You heard anything about your…baby momma?”
“No, but I was wondering if you could help me with something?”
“What you need man?”
“Come to the nursery with me. I talked to my attorney and realized I didn’t even ask how the baby was doing. I want to see him, but I’m ashamed and don’t want to go alone.”
“Sure, bro. I can do that.”
“Do you want to stop by your wife’s room to check on her real quick before we head down there?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. She’ll probably like that.”
When we got to her room, I waited outside the door in the hall as he told me he’d be right back. I heard his wife asking who he was talking to.
“Oh, it’s some dude that had a baby this morning. We’re going to head down to the nursery to see him. You feeling okay?”
“He can come in so he doesn’t have to stand out in the hall. You can come in…” she yelled.
I stepped inside the room. His wife was pretty. She had strawberry blonde hair with freckles sprinkled across her face and cat-like emerald eyes. “Hi.”
“What’s his name?” she whisper
ed to her husband.
“His name is Blake. Right bro?”
“Yeah, Blake Adams. Nice to meet you.”
“You ready to go?” he asked as he kissed his wife.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Walking down to the nursery, I looked around for Tasha.
Maybe they’ll be moving her into a regular room.
No luck. When we arrived at the nursery, there was a different nurse on duty.
“Hi, I’d like to see my son, please.”
“Name?” she didn’t even bother to look at me as she worked on her crossword puzzle.
“Carter Luke Adams.”
She placed the pencil inside the book and stood from behind the desk. “The Adams baby has special requirements. You’ll need to suit up before going in.” She looked at Darnell. “Is he going with you?”
“If that’s okay, yes.”
“He’ll need one, too.”
She handed each of us a hairnet and hospital gown. Once we were ready, she opened the door and led us to him. His bassinet looked different from the others; it had a dome over it.
As I looked closely at him, I saw tubes running from his nose, taped to the side of his face. An oxygen mask hogged most of his face, making it hard to see all of his facial features.
“Can we hold him? The other nurse asked if I wanted to earlier.”
“Yes, but only for a moment. He needs his rest and we don’t want to handle him too much until he’s a bit stronger and off of some of the tubes.”
She opened the dome and gently cradled him as she handed him to me. He was so tiny, so…perfect. His hands weren’t even big or strong enough to curl around my finger, and the length of his whole body barely took up any room in my arms. Light as a feather, I held him close.
“He’s gorgeous, man.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I stared at his tiny face.
The nurse had her back turned as she checked on the other newborn a few bassinets over. I quickly stooped over and gave him a light peck on the forehead.
Oh my, God, he smells so good!
I never understood what people meant by that ‘new baby smell’ until I smelled Carter.
“Mr. Adams? We need to get him back in the incubator. It’s important that he stays under the lamp light. It’ll help keep him warm since he’s so small and it’ll help prevent him from developing jaundice since his liver’s not fully developed yet.”
