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“You ready?” the woman smiled. “This is my favorite part.”
She pressed something on her keyboard, which beeped twice in rapid succession. And then all of sudden, loud and clear, there it was.
Pew pew pew pew pew pew pew pew!
A strange warmth stole over me, radiating outward from where the technician’s wand touched my belly. The feelings that followed were unexpectedly overwhelming.
“T—That’s the baby’s heartbeat?”
“Sure is,” the woman beamed. She was blonde and pretty. Probably too young to be a mother just yet, but these days you never really knew.
“Why is it sofast?”
“The smaller the organism, the faster its heart needs to go,” the woman answered. “You ever hold a rabbit? Its little heart goes a mile a minute.”
I shook my head solemnly. “Whoa.”
For several long moments I just sat there, listening to the steady pulse of static from the sonogram machine’s speaker. A heartbeat. Alife. And not just on the black-and-white screen either, but growing inside me…
Damn, I couldn’t believe it.
Seriously?The voice in my head chided me.What the hell did you expect?
In retrospect, I guess I hadn’t really thought about this part. In making the decision to become a surrogate, I promised that I’d distance myself from any sort of attachments, to make the transition easier later on. The baby in my stomach wasn’t mine; it belonged to someone else. Or someoneselse, according to the lawyers of the trust I’d been dealing with since the very beginning.
Well, technically that’s not true.
Technically? The word seemed somewhat dangerous. Alarms went off in my mind, telling me to push that word away.
Technically the babyishalf yours, no matter what happens next. Biologically, anyway.
Initially, I’d thought it would be different. I imagined myself carrying a child to term for a loving couple who, for whatever reason, couldn’t do it themselves. They’d provide the embryo. I’d provide the womb. I’d help bring new life into this world — a beautiful, wonderful gift all its own — while getting paid for my time and sacrifice. Helping to create a family was win-win, as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t wait to do it.
And then I found out the clients had needed an egg as well. For that, they were willing to pay handsomely. Maybe even more than they’d paid for the team of private doctors, nurses, and obstetricians I was instructed to visit, far removed from normal medical circles.
Maybe even more than they paid to remain totally and completely anonymous.
“You okay?” the technician chuckled.
“Yeah,” I replied reflexively. “Of course. I just… well…”
“I know; it’s a little overwhelming.”
I laughed weakly. “Maybe a little.”
“I see it all the time,” she went on. “Knowing you’re pregnant is one thing, but hearing the baby’s heartbeat makes itreal. It puts things in a different perspective.”
I watched as she reached behind her and swung her arm forward. When she did, she was holding a yellow envelope. The same kind I’d received once a week for the past seven weeks.
“The clients send their regards,” the woman smiled cheerfully.
I took the envelope reflexively, a little surprised. The first six had come by mail. Each one contained a short, printed letter asking me to take care of myself, not to miss any vitamins, and to avoid certain foods. A few got even more personal. Like the one asking me to stop staying up late and get plenty of sleep.
Which was kind of eerie, because Ihadbeen staying up late that week.
“If it’s okay, they asked for copies of the sonogram pics,” the technician said. “But of course you have final say.”
“That’s fine,” I allowed. “Not a problem.”
