The man and woman sitting in front of Melissa Everhart’s desk held hands as if about to jump off a cliff together. In a sense, that was what they were doing.
Be careful what you wish for, she wanted to caution them. But in her role as Safe Harbor Medical Center’s in vitro fertilization and egg donor coordinator, she was already providing them with full information. Any further warning would be an unprofessional insertion of her personal concerns.
“Most people who hire a surrogate and can’t provide their own eggs prefer to use a separate egg donor,” she was explaining.
“Why bring in a third party?” The woman, Bev Landry, an accountant in her early forties, projected a professional image in her tailored gray suit with a rose-colored silk blouse. Only the clenched hands in her lap betrayed her nervousness as she and her husband embarked on an expensive and by-no-means-guaranteed quest to have a child via surrogacy. An ovarian cancer survivor, she had tried to adopt without success.
Bev longed for a baby with all her heart. Melissa understood that yearning because she’d shared it.
“I’m not a lawyer, but I can tell you that while surrogates—or gestational carriers, as they’re termed—sign away their rights to the baby, it’s still safer legally and emotionally if there’s no genetic link,” Melissa informed her.
“That brings up the issue of legalities...” Bev’s husband, Mick, a rough-hewn building contractor, leaned forward aggressively. It was, Melissa judged, merely his way of taking control of a scary situation. “What protection do we have when we commission—if that’s the right word—a child?”
“We’re fortunate that California leads the world in safeguarding your rights,” she said. “I have several documents here on the subject, including new laws and court decisions favoring the designated parents.”
Mick glanced at the documents she handed him, then set them aside for later. “Thanks. And I’ll be the biological father, after all.”
“That’s right. Now let’s talk about how you would select your egg donor and your surrogate.” Although the hospital’s brochures covered all aspects of its fertility program, the information could be overwhelming. It was Melissa’s job to steer clients through the process.
If she deemed it advisable, she could also refer them to the hospital’s psychologist. And, starting today, she could offer them a free session with the hospital’s new consulting family attorney. Who just happened to be her ex-husband.
Her throat tightened. A year ago, without explanation, her ex-husband Edmond had given up a high-paying position in Los Angeles to join a tiny law firm here in Safe Harbor. Then, a month or so ago, he’d applied for a consulting job at the hospital. Despite her reservations, when the administrator had asked Melissa whether bringing Edmond on board in a part-time position would pose problems for her, she’d said no.
His new job meant they might occasionally have to work together, but since their divorce three years ago, they’d remained on civil terms. She respected Edmond’s abilities and had always found him easy to confer with.
Except on one issue. Edmond had vehemently opposed having children. Initially, Melissa hadn’t wanted them, either, but she’d changed her mind during their five-year marriage. As her thirtieth birthday approached, her longing for little ones to love had intensified to the point that she could no longer ignore it.
Hesitantly, she’d brought up with her husband the possibility of having kids. Edmond hadn’t taken it well, and to her shock, he’d then gone out and had a vasectomy without consulting her. Stunned by this high-handed maneuver and devastated that he thought so little of her needs, Melissa had left him.
The man she’d believed was her true love had turned out to be fatally flawed. Unfortunately, her post-divorce attempts at finding another Mr. Right had led nowhere.
Now she was going it alone, she reflected as her hand drifted to her abdomen, where it felt as if she had a watermelon strapped to her midsection. No telling how Edmond would react when he saw her condition. But then, he’d made his choice, and she’d made hers.
She trained her attention on the computer screen and angled it toward the Landrys. “We provide photographs and profiles of our surrogates, as we do with egg donors in a separate registry. You’ll have your own code to sign onto our secure website from home....” As Melissa spoke, she heard a flurry of noises outside the closed door. Hers was one of four offices opening off the fertility support program’s reception area on the hospital’s ground floor. Judging by the scuff of footsteps and the warm tones of her colleagues, she guessed that the hospital administrator was introducing the new consultant.
Then a deep, familiar voice rumbled through her. Melissa’s skin prickled. Edmond. If only she wasn’t still so sensitized to his nearness. Maybe agreeing for him to join the staff had been a mistake. Too late to change her mind now.
“Oh, my goodness!” Bev tugged an ultrasound photo from beneath a few papers on the desk. “Is that twins? No, there’s a third one. Triplets! Incredible.”
Her husband craned his neck to study the image. “Somebody hit the jackpot.”
Melissa’s cheeks heated. “I shouldn’t have left that in view.”
“I’m sorry.” Bev set down the image. “I didn’t mean to invade anyone’s privacy. That woman is so lucky!”
Is she? “Actually, it’s me.”
Bev’s mouth flew open. “Seriously? I noticed you were pregnant but I had no idea it was triplets. How far along are you?”
“Four months down, five to go.” According to Melissa’s obstetrician, multiple births usually resulted in early deliveries, but she was trying to think positively.
“Your husband must be excited,” Mick said.
Melissa tilted her head in a half nod