Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“I—what?” I stuttered, feeling tears gather in my eyes.
She pushed a box of tissues across her desk. “Mr. Valentino has an unusually low sperm count, and many of his sperm are not viable. Mrs. Valentino, you have an unusually shaped uterus and uterine fibroids obscuring too much of your cervix for easy conception. In addition, the uterus issue will make carrying your own child impossible. I’m sorry that this isn’t the news you wanted, but you do have some very viable options for parenthood.”
I took a tissue robotically. Once glance at Gio told me he was taking this just as hard. Was he upset with me? Disappointed? I wasn’t disappointed in him, but it was my job to carry the baby.
Dr. Schmidt cleared her throat. “Let me explain the options at this point. Your eggs are viable, so if having a biological connection to your child was a priority for you, surrogacy would be a potential option.” She pulled out a pamphlet from a stack and put it next to the tissues. “Alternately, if your priority is children by any means, adoption remains a compassionate and rewarding option.” A second brochure joined the first. “Regardless, we can help you at least begin the process. Please, take some time to discuss everything, and reach out whenever you have a decision.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
Gio scooped up the brochures, and we walked to the car in utter silence. The quiet continued through the drive home, leaving me with my thoughts.
I’d been having all those dreams, imagining myself round with a child. I had started daydreaming about Gio singing to my belly, those slow Italian songs he liked to dance to, and in my more optimistic moments, had looked at maternity clothes online.
I had been so stupid.
I could never carry a child. I would never hold our babies in my arms and know, bone-deep, that they were mine. Even the awful parts disappeared in the blink of an eye–the morning sickness and the mood swings and the pain of birth. I missed them with the same keening agony as I did the glow and the dreams.
Gio had let go of me to grab the brochures and hadn’t touched me since. I felt it like a bruise, but I didn’t dare ask anything of him in that moment. He drove distractedly, staring past the road, and more than once he had to slam on the brakes to avoid a crash.
We walked back into the house in the same hazy heartbreak. Dahlia popped out of her room to greet us, but her smile faded when she saw our faces.
Great, I was scaring away my best friend now. But I couldn’t leave Gio in this moment.
Without discussion, we retired to our bedroom. Gio sank to the bed and put his head in his hands. I watched for a moment, wondering if he wanted company or if I could change into the soft pajamas I wanted to wear more than anything.
Then, like a pit in my stomach, I realized his shoulders were shaking.
Gio was crying.
I was at his side in a moment, winding my arms around his waist and pulling him into me as much as possible. He slumped onto my shoulder, his face still covered.
For a while, we cried together.
“Shh, carino, I’m sorry.” I stroked my hands through his hair softly.
He turned his face up to me, tears glimmering in his dark eyes. “Why on Earth are you sorry?”
“I—” The words caught in my throat. How could I explain my disappointment in myself, my devastation. I could not carry his child. “Because I can’t do it.”
He pulled his hands from his face and wrapped me in his arms as well. “No, no, no. If you can’t carry our child, so be it. At least you have something to contribute.We don’t know that my sperm will ever be viable enough to work.”
Emotions warred in my mind. The dawning horror of his position, that he had no viable genetic material to donate if we chose to go that route, battled with the sick anxiety of letting another woman grow my child. I could not imagine it. Would she live here? Would she go to her doctor’s appointments alone, or with us?
Would I get to watch her give birth to my child?
I squashed the thoughts down and pressed a kiss to Gio’s head. “Whatever baby we have will be our baby–both of ours–even if we adopt.”
I felt the tracks of his tears on my neck.
“I’m sorry, still. If I were someone else—”
I shook my head. “If you were someone else, I would not consider starting a family at nineteen. There is no one for me but you.”
He pressed a kiss to my collarbone. “I’m sorry this isn’t easier for both of us, then.”
I carded my hands through his hair. He broke so rarely, and while my own emotions battled to overwhelm me, caring for him steadied me a little.
“Why don’t we put on comfy clothes, have dinner brought to the room, and spend the rest of the night in bed? We can watch that movie you were talking about the other day if you want,” I said.
For the first time since I sat on the bed with him, he lifted his head from my shoulder. Tears still threatened at the corners of his eyes, but that love I had grown so used to seeing shone through.
“I wouldn’t do this with anyone else either,” he murmured. “You are too perfect. Let’s do that.”
We changed slowly, called for dinner, and queued up the TV in our room. I’d requested comfort food, and that ended up being two of the biggest plates of spaghetti and meatballs I’d ever seen in my life, paired with a loaf of crusty garlic bread.
They also sent red wine and water, and I could sense Dahlia’s hand there. She would want me to have the option to drink my sorrows away, and to not remind myself of my infertility by doing something a pregnant woman never would. Her distant support brought a new wave of tears to my eyes. Leave it to Dolly to know exactly what to do.
We clambered into bed together and made a cozy nest of pillows and blankets, then grabbed the food. Gio took a bite before the movie even started and groaned low in his throat.
I looked at him questioningly.
He smiled, a softer, sadder smile than his usual one. “There is one thing all Italians learn by heart when they’re young, and it’s their mother’s tomato sauce recipe. I taught it to the kitchen staff when I got this place, and this is it.”
I took a quick bite, savoring the dance of acid and heat complemented by the spaghetti. It was incredible.
I looked at him, the edges of my smile wobbling. “I suppose I’ll have to learn this to teach to our kids.”
His smile broke as well. “So you still want…?”
I nodded slowly. I wouldn’t give up my family with Gio for anything. He took my hand and squeezed.
“Me too,” he said. “But do you want to adopt or do surrogacy?”
My stomach flipped. Did I want someone else’s biological child or to watch another woman live out a dream I’d never fulfill?
“What do you want?” I asked.
*Giovani*
I inhaled deeply and stared into the eyes of my beloved, so full of worries. I hadn’t given any thought to what I wanted since the doctor said I essentially had no viable sperm. That sickening guilt roiled up in me again, but I forced myself to remain in the moment.
“I will do whatever you want, carina,” I said honestly. I knew I would love a baby with Olivia’s eyes, her laugh–but I would love any baby we adopted just as well. My own genes died with me, it seemed.
I took another forkful of the spaghetti and meatballs and let my mother’s sauce soothe me. I would have a family. We would have a family. Nothing else mattered.
Olivia chewed on her bottom lip. “But what if we adopt a baby and it has some kind of problem we can’t deal with? Or what if we start trying to adopt and it takes years and years?”
I smoothed a hand over her hair. “Alright, would you like to do surrogacy then?”
She fidgeted with her fork. “Surrogacy is really, really expensive. And that means there’s going to be another woman carrying our baby. What if she runs away right before the due date, and we never see our baby again? Or what if the doctor just thinks my eggs are viable and they really aren’t? Maybe they can only get one egg from me, and if that doesn’t take, then we will have gone through all that money and stress for nothing.”
I shifted the platter of food to a side table and gathered her against my chest. “You are only thinking about the bad parts. What if we get a surrogate, and she’s lovely, and the baby has your smile? What if we adopt triplets, and they’re all perfect? What if we have a family, in whatever way we can? Money is not an issue, carina.”
She tucked her head under my chin. “I can’t help but worry. This is a big decision. I don’t want to mess up our family because I picked wrong.”
