In September the work started rolling in as usual. The Christmas advertising campaigns would take over their lives from now until the end of the year and Lucy was working on several all at once. She felt like she was juggling too many balls in the air and that a momentary slip in concentration would cause them all to come crashing down. Despite the stress that this time of year brought with it she was quite happy to be so busy. Jack and Lucy had made a valiant effort to put their brief encounter behind them. It was never mentioned. For the most part they restricted their conversation to work-related topics, and no attempt was made by either party to arrange another drink. They both knew that the timing, and their circumstances, were wrong. Though she did occasionally blush when she caught him looking at her. God only knew what memories he was conjuring up!
When she wasn’t working, often late into the night, she spent hours on the London Sperm Bank website looking at the potential donors. She was able to choose preferences for race, eye colour, hair colour, height, skin tone, nationality, education and occupation. She decided she wanted to choose someone as similar to her as possible. Her new friend Nicola was a wonderful help, they met up for coffee several times, discussing the ins and outs of the process. Lucy found it unbelievably helpful to talk to someone who had been through it already. Nicola was a very down-to-earth person; she took it all in her stride and was always ready with a well thought out answer to any of Lucy’s questions or doubts. This helped Lucy come to terms with what lay ahead. Lucy began counting down the days until November when she was going to have her first round of IUI.
Towards the end of the month, Tor had booked Lucy in for a Saturday evening of babysitting. It was the night of her and Will’s wedding anniversary and Lucy was excited at the prospect of spending some quality time with her godson. She knew that it would be good experience to have a tiny baby in her care, something that she hadn’t had to do much of since the days when she helped Ginny look after Ollie. Right from the start Lucy had adored her baby brother, constantly helping to change his nappy and feed him, covering him in kisses and often picking him up and carrying him around like a doll… much to Ginny’s horror! Quietly laughing at her younger self as she reminisced, she rang the doorbell of Will and Tor’s smart town house and waited. A couple of minutes later Tor opened the door to let her in, giving her a warm hug and launching into a constant stream of instructions as she clattered around the hallway in her heels, fastening gold studs into her ears. To say she was overexcited at the prospect of having a night out with her husband was an understatement. However, this was also coupled with anxiety at the thought of being separated from Otto for the first time, resulting in Tor at her most chaotic. Trying to calm her friend down, Lucy nodded her agreement at each instruction, reassuring her that she would phone immediately if there was anything wrong.
Just then William came down the stairs, obviously straight out of the shower. He said hi to Lucy as he fastened the cufflinks on his shirt. Tor reached up to straighten his tie; they looked so smart, such a handsome couple, that Lucy stood back for a minute to admire them. Lucy was reminded of when her own parents would go out for the evening and the babysitter would arrive. She had flashbacks of her mum looking incredibly glamorous, smelling of perfume, a slash of bright pink lipstick across her lips as she kissed her good night.
Following Will and Tor into the sitting room, Lucy found Otto sleeping peacefully in his Moses basket. He looked positively angelic in a pale blue babygro, soft, downy hairs covering his head; a miniscule hand curled into a fist by the side of his face.
With one eye on the clock as their reservation time approached, Will and Tor reluctantly tore themselves away from their son and set off for dinner, leaving Lucy in charge. The television flickered in the background with some Saturday evening game show but Lucy was so mesmerized by little Otto that she barely took any notice, staring instead at his delicate little face and his minute features. Her tummy began to rumble so she heated up some of the lasagne that Tor had left out for her, eating it quietly while sitting on the sofa, reluctant to leave Otto by himself in case something awful should happen.
After about an hour and a half of peaceful sleeping, Otto woke up, making little gurgles and squeaks which slowly became moans before developing into a full-blown wail. Lucy followed the instructions to warm up his milk then picked him up. Nestling him in the crook of her arm, she began to feed him from the bottle. This seemed to do the trick and she relaxed as the rhythmic glugging echoed into the room. Having had his fill, she gently removed the bottle and carefully draped a muslin cloth across her shoulder, softly rubbing his back to wind him. As she settled back into the sofa with the tiny bundle in her arms, now sleeping contentedly once more, she prayed that she would be lucky enough to have her own baby soon. She was overcome with the all too familiar emotions of regret that she couldn’t have experienced all this with Alex, that she was going to have to go through it all alone. It felt like such bitter bad luck. She wouldn’t allow herself to miss out though. The thought of never being able to experience motherhood because she hadn’t met her perfect guy at the right time was just too awful to consider. If and when he came along he would have to accept her for who she was, with or without a child. But she wasn’t going to waste her last child-bearing years dreaming and hoping in vain for something that may never happen.
The following weekend Nicola had invited Lucy for lunch at her mews cottage in Notting Hill. Intrigued to get a glimpse into life as a single mother, and to have a peek inside Nicola’s home, Lucy had eagerly accepted. She knocked on the door and shortly afterwards heard little footsteps padding towards her in response. She could see Maisy’s curly hair through the frosted glass as Nicola appeared behind her, reaching to unlock the door and let Lucy in.
As Lucy had expected, Nicola’s home was tastefully decorated and amazingly tidy considering the toddler entwining herself round her legs. Nicola kissed Lucy hello and then ushered her through into the kitchen; a huge vase of lilies rested on the granite breakfast bar while a wooden bowl piled high with fruit lay on the table. There were boxes of Maisy’s colourful toys lined up along the wall but otherwise the home just looked like any other.
While they were eating their lunch, Lucy took the opportunity to ask Nicola how she had come to the decision to ‘go it alone’ to have her daughter, wondering if their stories would be similar.
‘To be honest,’ said Nicola, ‘when I was younger I always thought that it would happen naturally, like everyone else, with the man of my dreams. But when I was thirty-six and I found myself single, I suddenly realized that perhaps that wasn’t going to happen.’
‘Exactly what I’ve been thinking,’ agreed Lucy. ‘It’s different for guys, they can have children whenever they want. We’ve got a biological time bomb strapped to us and there’s nothing we can do to slow it down!’
‘Quite!’ exclaimed Nicola. ‘So I simply weighed up my options. I don’t meet that many men that I actually consider eligible enough to date, I work quite long hours and I had broken up with my last boyfriend two years earlier and still hadn’t met a replacement… so I knew that if I wanted a baby I would have to go about it in a rather different way!’
‘How did you decide on donor insemination? Did you consider any other alternatives?’ asked Lucy.
‘I thought about adoption but I really wanted to experience being pregnant and I also wanted to be genetically related to my own child,’ said Nicola.
Lucy nodded in agreement.
‘The other alternative was co-parenting with a friend but I just couldn’t think of anything more complicated than that, plus I’m quite an independent person and I’d rather make decisions affecting me and my family by myself than have to take a third party into consideration,’ explained Nicola.
‘Do you mind me asking you a personal question?’ asked Lucy.
‘Go ahead.’
‘Have you ever regretted your decision? I mean, have there been times when it has been too hard, or you’ve felt too alone and wished you had waited to meet someone? I just want to know exactly what I am signing myself up for, so please be as honest as you can,’ said Lucy.
‘I’m not going to lie… there have been times when I have felt so lonely I just cry myself to sleep, even knowing Maisy is in her room next door. It is not the same as having another half, the love you receive and feel for your child is a completely different ball game. It would be amazing to have someone to support you through it, in particular during pregnancy and the first six months. But if you are asking me whether I would change my mind if I could go back in time, there is absolutely no way I would do it any differently. You are right to be realistic though, it is tough. You will tear your hair out at times.’
‘I’m sure,’ said Lucy.
‘But it is worth it,’ said Nicola. ‘If you are really serious about having a family then you shouldn’t let the negatives put you off.’
‘Maisy really is a gorgeous little girl,’ said Lucy. ‘You’re very lucky.’
‘Fourth time lucky and we’ll see how the next cycles work! I know my chances are getting pretty slim, but what will be will be! Won’t it, Maisy?’ she said, scooping her up and flying her through the air, prompting a fit of giggles from her daughter.
‘I expect I’ll be talking all about this next week with the counsellor,’ said Lucy.
‘Oh, have you got your implications counselling?’ asked Nicola. ‘It’s actually really useful, I found. Talking things through makes you feel really sure about it all before you definitely decide to go ahead with it.’
‘When have you decided to try again?’ asked Lucy.
‘I’m going to wait until the New Year,’ explained Nicola, ‘and then I’ll just have to see what happens.’
After lunch they took Maisy down to the local playground and watched her as she played on the swings with some of the other local children. Lucy was grateful for Nicola’s honesty; she knew she had some thinking to do that evening.
Lucy settled in for a quiet evening of soul-searching. Negative thoughts kept popping into her mind. Was it fair on the baby not to have a father? Was she being selfish? Would other people judge her, or worse, judge her unborn child as he or she was growing up in a single parent family? She ran through the conversations she had had with Nicola earlier that day, questioning herself over and over, allowing the doubts to well up and trying her best to rationalize and reason with herself. In the end her total and utter longing for a baby always won. It seemed to her that no matter what the downsides were, she could and would accept them for the sake of being a mother. She would do whatever it took.
As she set off to the clinic for her implications counselling session at the beginning of October, Lucy was crippled with nerves, despite Nicola having reassured her that the anxieties she was feeling and questions that she wanted to ask would be nothing unusual for the counsellor.
The lady she saw was incredibly calm and reassuring. She answered all of her questions and was honest about what Lucy might expect to feel and how she would be able to get the support she needed during the difficult times that would undoubtedly accompany the roller coaster of emotions to follow. Lucy found it extremely useful and left the session feeling much more positive. By this stage, there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she would go ahead with the insemination.
‘So?’ asked Claudia, when they met up later that evening. ‘Have you decided when D-day will be yet? Or should I say DI day?!’ Claudia laughed at her own dreadful joke as she glugged red wine into a glass.
‘It’s going to be next month,’ said Lucy decisively. ‘All we have to do now is decide on the donor…’
‘That’s what I’m here for!’ interrupted Claudia, peering at the website.
‘…and then I have to call the clinic and schedule an appointment,’ continued Lucy.
‘It has to be when you ovulate, right?’ asked Claudia.
‘Yup.’
‘How will you know?’
‘It’ll be between days ten and sixteen of my monthly cycle. I’ve been given ovulation tests that should tell me exactly when I am ovulating.’
‘How are you feeling?’ asked Claudia.
‘Nervous and excited in equal measure!’ explained Lucy. ‘It’s such a big step into the unknown!’
‘It sure is! Right then, let’s get to work!’ said Claudia, rubbing her hands with glee. ‘Here’s to finding the ideal genetic father of your child!’ she said, clinking her glass against Lucy’s as they settled in front of the laptop.
They had spent hours choosing the ideal donor, poring over the website with Claudia opening another bottle of wine. As planned, she had chosen the donor that most closely matched her, hoping that the baby would look as similar to her as possible. It had to be said, Claudia had been an absolute godsend, always there for her to talk through any doubts or concerns with. She had also volunteered to accompany her to the clinic for her first round of treatment despite her personal hatred of hospitals. Lucy was glad that she would have some moral support to steady her nerves and reassured Claudia that it was nothing like a hospital.
As she finally went in for her appointment in November she prayed and prayed that it would work, that a miracle would happen and that in nine months’ time she would be holding her very own baby. Claudia and Lucy arrived at the clinic and took their seats in the waiting room. As Lucy reached into her handbag to turn her phone off, she saw a reminder from her planner that had popped up onto her screen. It read 13th November: By today you will feel normal.
‘Oh my god, look Clauds!’ She showed her the screen.
‘I remember you telling me about this,’ said Claudia in disbelief.
‘How ironic that it should have been this day, six months previously, when I set that alert!’ said Lucy. She checked herself to see how she felt, reaching deeply into the darkest recesses of her heart, searching for signs of that familiar despair and anguish over Alex. There was barely a trace left.