She looked up at me with this raw, ashamed look that made my chest hurt.
I said, “I would be honored. But I need to talk to Paul first.”
She burst into tears so fast it scared me.
***
Later that night, after she left, Paul and I sat in bed talking for hours. We already had two kids. I knew what pregnancy felt like. I knew the risks, the discomfort, the fear.
“I want to do this for her,” I said.
Paul was quiet for a long time. Then he took my hand and kissed it. “I’ll support you, but I want you to speak to doctors and lawyers before you make a final decision. If we do this, then we need to do it right.”
“I want to do this for her.”
When I told Carol yes for real, after the medical and legal discussions, she cried so hard she could barely breathe.
“You’re giving me my whole life,” she sobbed.
I laughed through tears.
It seemed like an overly dramatic statement, but I knew how much she wanted to be a mother, so I didn’t think much of it.
“You’re giving me my whole life.”
At first, everything about it felt beautiful.
Carol came to every appointment. She mostly listened at first, but soon, she was doing all the talking.
The moment the gender was confirmed, she and Rob painted the nursery pale blue. They picked out blue blankets and baby clothes.
The pregnancy moved along. My body changed. The baby kicked. Life kept going around us. My kids would press their ears to my belly and laugh when the baby moved.
But little things started to shift.
Everything about it felt beautiful.
