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Marlene
Two Weeks Later
Part of me had expected the thoughts to go away. I figured after my evening of ice cream and reading about the wacky world of sperm donation, I’d go to bed and wake up laughing at myself. But the idea didn’t go away.
For the last two weeks, I’ve been diving deeper and deeper into my research about sperm donation, and now the only decision I’m weighing is which bank I want to use, the choice narrowed to two selections.
I’ve been debating prices, reviews, success rates, and sample profiles until the numbers are enough to make my head spin. How do I know what to choose, how to give my baby the best start I possibly can?
Another thing holding me back is a number of horror stories I’d stumbled upon, where women find out later that the donor they thought they were getting hadn’t been properly vetted, or even that they were lied to entirely about the donor’s identity.
I know those crazy cases are few and far between, but even so, they’re enough to give me pause. I pull off my glasses and sigh, rubbing at my tired eyes. I glance around and realize it’s gotten pretty dark in my little home office space, the only light coming from the glow of the laptop I’ve been staring at since I got off of work.
I stretch, and the crackling along my stiff spine sounds like popcorn. I get to my feet and flip the light on, blinking against the bright and painful assault to my vision. I head down the hall and out to my kitchen. I put the teakettle on and grab my favorite mug before rummaging through the cupboard.
Earl Grey, English Breakfast, Orange Pekoe, Honey Chamomile…I skim through my wide variety of teas before settling on “Buttermint,” a peppermint vanilla herbal favorite of mine.
While I’m hovering and waiting for the kettle to shriek at me, I feel my phone buzz with a notification in the back pocket of my jeans. I tug it out and type in my password. The little icon on the screen indicates a new text, and when I tap it open, I’m pleased to see that it’s a message from Corey.
Hey, gorgeous, you busy tomorrow night? Andrei and I want to get the crew together for Cards Against Humanity, it’s been forever since we had a game night.
A grin spreads over my face. Game nights over at their place are always an absolute blast, and he’s right, it has been a while. I eagerly text back that I’ll be there and ask them what I can bring. While I’m texting back and forth with him, the kettle whistles and I pour the hot water over the teabag in my cup, the sharp scent of peppermint wafting up to my nose.
Along with it, a thought strikes me. It’s too bad I couldn’t just ask one of my male friends to be my sperm donor. I have a few others besides Corey and Andrei, but several of them have girlfriends who might not be too comfortable with the idea of another woman carrying their boyfriend’s kid, which I can hardly blame them for. It’s a big ask.
But Corey and Andrei…I don’t really know if the jealousy would be the same between two guys like that. They’ve never really mentioned kids, so I have no idea if they want them, but my mind briefly flashes on the possibilities.
Maybe if they’ll be sperm donors for me, I could be a surrogate for them in the future? Or maybe they’d be open to some kind of co-parenting arrangement.
I shake my head. What the hell am I thinking? I don’t even know if they want kids, let alone some weird co-parenting arrangement with a friend.
But none of that means they wouldn’t be open to being sperm donors for me…
I can’t get the crazy idea out of my head as I make my way back to my desk. I sit down and set the mug to the side, letting the tea steep and cool to a comfortable drinking point, and finish settling tomorrow night’s plans with Corey. As I’m just about to set my phone down, it starts to ring.
Caller ID reveals that it’s my best friend Cassidy, the other in my trio of closest friends. I swipe and answer. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Please tell me you’re going to game night tomorrow,” she says in lieu of a greeting.
I laugh. “Why? You like everyone, they’re your friends, too.”
“Oh, I know, I just miss you,” she complains, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Aww. I miss you, too, it kind of has been a while, hasn’t it?” I think back to the last time we’d hung out and realize it was before the breakup.
Before my rabbit hole. I wonder briefly if I should let her peer down it, tell her about what’s been dominating my thoughts the last two weeks.
“Yeah, I get it,” she says, “Post-breakup wallow and all, but I hope you’re ready to finally have some fun!”
“Eh, I haven’t really been wallowing,” I explain, “I mean, you know I wasn’t exactly head over heels or anything.”
“So what have you been doing?” Cass asks before lowering her voice to a low, mischievous tone, “Don’t tell me you’ve moved on already.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, nothing like that. I’ve had some fast rebounds and all, but I have limits.”
“Prude,” Cassidy huffs, “So are you going tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I nod, “I already told Corey I’d be there.”
