‘You...what?’ Joy swam across Abbie’s chest, swiftly followed by panic and anxiety and...well, guilt and shame that she couldn’t do this herself. But, immense gratitude. And hope. Yes, hope fluttering in her chest—it was strange to feel something like this after so long. ‘You want to have a baby for me? What? How?’
‘I want to be the surrogate, the oven. I’ll cook your baby.’ Emma’s eyes narrowed and she looked a little panicked now too. ‘Is that a really bad idea? It’s okay. I just thought—’
Her baby. Michael’s baby. Carried to term. Their baby. A precious tiny gift. ‘But there’s so much... I don’t know... It’s a surprise. It’s a miracle.’
‘A good one?’
‘Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Thank you. I can’t even... I just don’t know what to say. Wow. How? I don’t know...’
‘Ways and means. Let me do this for you, please. I’ve seen the way you look at Rosie and it breaks my heart that you have so much love to give. You’ve been with me every step of the way through the good and the bad and...’ Emma smiled softly over at her daughter and Abbie knew she was referring to Rosie’s dad ‘...and the very ugly. You’ve been my rock and now I want to be yours. Please say yes.’
Abbie’s heart felt as if it would explode. But there were so many questions running through her head too. How would she feel with her baby inside someone else? What would they tell other people? Rosie? Would she understand? Would their families?
What if you change your mind?
Surrogates did. And battles started. Friendships broke. She shoved that away. That would never happen. Their friendship was tight, and, oh, what a gift. A baby. ‘Yes! Yes. If that’s what you want. Yes. I’d love it. Oh, my God! Imagine! Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you to bits.’
‘Yeah, you’ll do too. Oh, and happy Christmas.’ More tears glistened in Emma’s eyes. Commitment shone through, and love, as she hugged her again for the zillionth time in twenty-odd years. ‘Excellent. Right then, let’s get cooking.’
Ten and a half months later...
‘ER... I THINK we’re having an alien.’
‘Or a windmill. Look at those arms and legs moving.’
Trying to make out the shapes on the black and white screen was getting easier the further the pregnancy progressed. Today, they could see the baby in its entirety, filling the screen, all the features as clear as day. A stubby nose. Like Michael’s? The bow lips. Mine? The rapid-fire heartbeat filled the room. Wow.
With a mix of sadness and epic excitement Abbie blinked back tears and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Oops, it’s pass-the-tissues time. I’m being such a wuss, but I just can’t believe it’s real.’
‘You’ve said that at every scan and every appointment. And a million times every day since the positive test. Not believing it’s real hasn’t stopped you shopping up a storm, though.’ Laughing, Emma patted her swollen belly. ‘Should we find out the gender?’
The sonographer looked up from the scanner screen. ‘You want to know?’
‘No. No.’ It didn’t feel right for some reason. Abbie stared at the screen and convinced herself the images weren’t that clear really. She wasn’t ready to hear she was having a mini-Michael. When she thought about him she wished he were here with her, getting all gooey about their child. He should have been here, holding her hand. Hell, she should have been the pregnant one, not Emma. But life hadn’t granted her all the wishes she’d had and everything was happening out of sync. Suddenly, she felt a little deflated. ‘Let’s leave it as a surprise. Is that okay, Em?’
‘Hey...it’s your baby, after all.’ Emma grinned and Abbie just knew her friend was watching to see the sonographer’s reaction. The story of their baby was pretty unusual; surrogacy wasn’t something they came across every day in little old Queenstown. ‘Anyway, I think I know what sex it is and I bet I’m right. I’m one of those people who knows they’re pregnant before the test shows up positive, and I’m convinced I know the gender because I’m carrying in a particular way. But my lips are sealed.’
‘The main thing,’ Abbie ventured, because this was a question continually on her lips, in her thoughts—and after everything that had happened, who could blame her for having just the odd nugget of panic? ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Absolutely fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Here’s a picture for you both so you can see just how perfect baby is.’ The sonographer smiled. ‘I’ll sort you out a DVD too. Yes, Abbie, baby is doing just fine for thirty-four weeks. And Mum...er...sorry, Emma is doing great too.’
Awkward. But it wasn’t the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Emma wiped the jelly off her belly and sat up. ‘I feel great. And don’t worry, we get that a lot. Okay, missy, you’d better get back to work, right? Busy day?’
Emma was always so chirpy at these appointments—and every day in between—laughing and joking, but she’d been here before when she was pregnant with Rosie. How was she really feeling, though? Did she feel like the mum this time too? Would she be bereft at handing the baby over? Would she want to keep the baby herself?
‘Abbie?’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ Abbie glanced at the wall clock and pushed back the little, silly anxieties she had—of course Emma was going to hand this baby over. ‘Oh, yes. My lunch break has finished. Gotta dash. See you later. Enjoy the rest of your day off.’
‘I have a few hours before I pick Rosie up from school. Do you want me to get any shopping in for you?’
Abbie gave her friend a hug. ‘No. I’m good, thanks—do you want me to sort dinner out? No—let’s have a quick coffee before we pick her up. Meet in the staff canteen? We can talk shopping and dinner then. Listen to us, we’re like an old couple.’
‘No man’s got a chance.’ Emma laughed again, but there was more than a kernel of truth in her words. ‘No complications. Just how I like it.’
Just how they both liked it, really. Between them they’d had a rough ride where relationships were concerned. One husband dead, the other might as well have been, for all the good he was. After all the heartbreak they’d had, who needed another man?
As Abbie walked down the corridor towards the emergency department and the rest of her shift, she thought about how things had changed. Eight years with one man who’d been her life completely, then three years in the wilderness. But she was fine about it. No man would come close to Michael. She would bring this baby up on her own, in his memory... Or as much on her own as her next-door-neighbour-best-friend-for-life would allow.
As she turned the corner into the department she heard voices.
‘Imagine if someone you loved couldn’t have a baby, and you knew you could. Would you do it? For a friend? A sister? Would you have a baby for someone else? It’s a long nine months, though, isn’t it? What if something went wrong? What if they decided they didn’t want it, what then?’
Another voice in a stage whisper that echoed around the quieter than usual emergency department replied, ‘Honestly, I don’t know how a mother could give her baby away. All those months inside her, kicking, hiccups, little feet under your ribs...you have a bond, y’know? You’re not telling me that you don’t develop