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Donor - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2020-04-10 14:59:43 +0000 UTC
2.
It rattled around inside of Janet’s brain. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. Small, inconsequential, yet all consuming. It forced its way into every waking moment, interrupted every thought.
The Idea.
That night of the breakup, the first vague swirlings of inception had lingered in her mind. But Janet had immediately dismissed it as preposterous. An impossibility. Even if not technically impossible, she’d have to ask. And the answer would have to be ‘yes’. And then to actually go through with it…
No. It was completely bonkers to even entertain.
And still the Idea persisted… The days had turned into weeks. Initially, Janet had thought she was just emotional from the breakup, not thinking straight. But as time passed, the notion remained, unwavering, even growing stronger in its allure. The more she thought about it, the less ludicrous it seemed.
After all, people had babies out of wedlock all the time. She’d hardly be the first single mother in the world. What was so bad about not taking the conventional path? Who said there was one right way to start a family?
Coming to terms with these feelings certainly did provide a measure of comfort. That feeling of time ceaselessly, inexorably passing, running out, became less of a claustrophobic crush when Janet thought in those terms. She didn’t need to try to find a suitable candidate within the launch window. If she was able to just step away from her own preconceived notion of the “right way”, she could throw out all of the life-planning number-crunching.
She could be free.
That was one germ of the idea that had formed in Janet’s head that day of the breakup.
‘I just need to have a baby,’ she’d said. ‘All that stress, all the pressure against the clock…’
It was true. It was so true. But then that inevitably led to the next pressing question. ‘I’m not saying I’d go bang some random and get knocked up,’ she’d said that day. ‘ I could get a sperm donor or something…’
And, at first, Janet had started to investigate doing just that. In the immediate weeks that followed, she began privately and surreptitiously looking into donor sperm, potential sperm banks to contact. How quickly it all became overwhelming -- washed vs. unwashed sperm, genetic testing, transportation, insemination methods, body priming via self injections… It was so much to process let alone consider undertaking.
And the costs of it all! She soon determined that absent some medical condition that required these procedures, she wouldn’t be able to get coverage for any of it, which would cost tens of thousands of dollars.
An elective procedure, right, Janet thought bitterly.
Maybe she should just get knocked up by some random, after all, she thought in one moment of despairing dejection. After all, none of these issues she’d come across even touched upon what she’d naively assumed would have been the hardest decision: selecting the sperm donor.
And that was what Janet found most depressing of all. That she’d have to go through this convoluted, invasive, prohibitively expensive process, all just to have a baby with a literal stranger, someone she’d never so much as clapped eyes on. And why? What for? Because she was a failure at the Game of Life. Because she’d made the wrong decisions, picked the wrong people, the wrong relationships, and now the window was closed. This is what she’d have to settle for.
If only… if only there was something in between… Like a plot out of one of the crappy rom-coms she and Samantha loved to watch, if she had a close guy friend, a true friend that she could ask, to help her conceive and nothing more…
Of course, the plot would dictate that they’d realize that they were in love with each other all along and end up together as a happy family ever after… but Janet didn’t need that. She could easily forego the cornball ending, if only she was just able to accomplish the first part, and take that power away from the clock…
But the whole line of thinking was utterly useless, because the fact was she didn’t have a male friend like that, or anything close to one. Casual acquaintances at best. And Janet had fallen into deep hopelessness once more.
And then, the Idea had come, coalescing in her mind and once fully formed, it would not leave. It stayed resolutely in the fore, blocking out all else, until in the end it was consuming her every waking moment.
‘If ever anyone was my soulmate, it’s you, Sam…’, Janet had said…
***
“No. Fucking. Way.” Samantha said bluntly.
“Please,” Janet pleaded. “Please, just let me explain it all before you say anything.”
“No, Janet!” Samantha stood up. “I’ve already heard all I need to and the answer’s no!!!”
“Jesus, Sam,” Janet hissed, looking around as all the other diners looked over in avid curiosity. “Can you just sit down and quit making a scene?!”
Samantha looked around confrontationally, causing a few gawkers to hastily turn away as she made eye contact before she flounced back down in her seat again, glowering. “I’m sitting, but I’m not changing my mind.”
Janet was beginning to regret picking a restaurant setting to initiate the conversation. But, trying to have it back in the apartment had just seemed too awkward and weird. So much for avoiding that. At least her roommate hadn’t simply left, though, which would have been a lot easier to do if they were at home.
“Samantha, please, please,” Janet started again. “It’s only because we’re best friends that I would ever even ask. There’s no one else. I have no else I could ask…”
“I know that, Jan,” her roommate said, her features softening somewhat. “But it’s still fucking crazy.”
Janet had to laugh a little at the gentle, loving way that she said it.
“Listen, if it’s a legal responsibility thing, I’ll have a waiver drawn up and we can see an attorney together--”
“It’s not that.”
“Well, I mean, if you’re worried about the cost, of course, you know I’ll cover the pills 100%, as many tries as it takes --”
“It’s not that.”
“OK, well, you know we wouldn’t even have to be in the room at the same time, there wouldn’t be any weirdness--”
“Yea, that’s it.”
“What, the room thing?” Janet repeated. “I mean here’s how we could--”
“No,” Samantha interrupted. “Not ‘the room thing’. The weird thing. It’s too weird. It’s too crazy. I don’t care how the hell you think we’d do this but there most definitely would be some fucking weirdness.
“I’m sorry, Janet. I can’t help you with this thing.”
“Samantha… It wouldn’t be that bad. Look, I’d just get some of those pills, the T&C pills, they’re not that expensive, I looked it up--” Janet broke off as the waiter arrived with their entrees. She waited impatiently as their plates were put down, waving him off rudely when asked if they needed anything else, then continued as soon as he was out of earshot.
“Then you just… take a pill. And you, you know… you’ll be able to… you know…
“Be my donor.”
Samantha sat across the table from her impassively, hands folded, food untouched. “Ok, obviously there’s a whole lot you glossed over right there, but what about after that? How do you get my "donation” into your...?” Her eyes darted down meaningfully and then back up again.
“Alright, well, I don’t want to get too much into the gross logistics of it, but I read this one news article where a lady used saline solution and a turkey baster--”
“Oh my God,” Samantha exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Janet! Do you hear yourself? A fucking turkey baster?!”
“Can you just take it down a notch?” Janet whispered through gritted teeth as the tables nearby began staring again. “Listen, that was my idea because I assumed you wouldn’t want to do it the old fashioned way..!”
“You’re damn right there! I’m not doing it any which way!”
“Samantha,” Janet pleaded. “Please! Look, if you’re worried about taking the pills, it’s 100% reversible, with no side effects! It’s not just for people looking to change gender or whatever. I’ve been reading about lesbian couples using it to conceive and --”
“That’s just it, Janet! We’re not a couple..! Ok?! I’m not a lesbian! I’m getting married to Michael in six months!”
“I’m not a lesbian either, Samantha,” Janet retorted quietly.
“I…” Samantha faltered before letting out a big sigh. “I know that, Jan.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because the only time that I ever --”
“I told you, yes, Janet. I believe you.”
“Ok. Well. I guess we don’t have anything else to talk about.” Janet looked off to the side and gave a scowl to the couple at the next table over, who immediately began making efforts to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. “You won’t help me, and you’ll go get married to Michael and have babies of your own and I’ll just continue on with my derailed life to nowhere.”
“Janet, that’s not fair. You know that’s not fair. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, wouldn’t do anything to be there for you…”
“If only that were true.” Janet picked up her fork, bitterly stabbing at her vegetables. She felt her eyes starting to burn and she blinked the tears away.
“Janet…” She looked up to see Samantha staring back at her with an expression of torn anguish, tears welling in her own blue eyes.
Wow, Janet thought, suddenly deeply moved and awed by her roommate's heartfelt emotion. If I pushed her right now, she’d do it...
She’d say yes.
But immediately after that awful, opportunistic thought, all she could feel was overwhelming guilt rise up inside of herself, shame at her own selfishness, her jealous resentfulness of Samantha’s happiness and bright future, at her willingness to put her best friend in such a horrible, impossible position without any consideration outside of her own needs…
“I’m sorry, Samantha!” Janet burst out, nearly bawling, the other gawking diners be damned. “Just forget it! I’m sorry! Please, please… just forget I ever brought this up…”
“Oh, honey,” Samantha exclaimed, still teary-eyed herself. She got up and came around to Janet’s side, holding her in her arms as they reconciled weepily.
Eventually, she sat down again, but to Janet’s side instead of across the table, and then they ate, chatting quietly with subdued smiles, occasionally giving tremulous laughs. They didn’t speak of the subject again for the rest of the night.
