“I wish Mom was here. You know?” Ellie stops nibbling on her cone. “She always had the best advice.”
I agree with her whole-heartedly that our mom was the best advice giver. She somehow always managed to stay unbiased, which I imagine would have been hard to not want to sway your child in one direction or another, whichever you personally found more favorable.
All the research I did last night on surrogacy comes to mind. There was a woman whose mother carried her child for her. That would be wild.
“She’d probably have the baby for you. Could you imagine?”
There’s a pause while Ellie and I both take in the imagery of our mom pregnant at sixty years old. And then we laugh hysterically, because we know she would have totally done it. She was selfless that way.
I remember one time when she took Ellie and me to the zoo when we were nine. It was a cool spring day, but the sun was out and I was dying to wear a new dress that I’d gotten for my birthday. Ellie dressed dutifully in pants and a jacket, but despite my mom’s warning, I wore the sleeveless dress, refusing to even bring in my jacket because it would ruin my look. The sky clouded over and there was a chilly breeze by the time we had reached the back half of the park. I was trying to pretend I wasn’t bothered, but my chattering teeth and purple lips were hard to miss. Without a word, my mom took off her jacket and wrapped it around me. It was a simple thing, probably what any mom would do, but it made me realize all the little sacrifices that you make for ones that you love.
When our laughter subsides, Ellie’s distracted again, this time by a little girl walking around with rocks from the landscaping that surrounds the patio. The girl—maybe two years old I imagine, I’m horrible at gauging kids’ ages—she looks at us for a second and I imagine just like the kid at the mall, she’s wondering why we look exactly the same. After a slight pause, she moves toward Ellie and without saying a word hands Ellie a rock.
“Wow! Is this for me?” Ellie’s voice is way more enthusiastic than I would be about getting a rock. We’re twins, but Ellie must have gotten all the maternal instinct genes. The little girl smiles at her.
“You.” That’s all she says.
“Thank you.” Ellie smiles, there’s happiness in it, but I also recognize a sadness, too.
And suddenly my insides squeeze and I think this can’t be the way the story goes. This can’t be the end of Ellie’s dream to become a mom. If I had the money to give Ellie and Josh for the surrogate I would in a heartbeat. I don’t even know if she would take it, but it doesn’t matter because I don’t have that kind of money. All I’ve got is me. And then the fuzzy memory of what I was onto last night clicks into place.
“What if I was your surrogate?”
Ellie’s still clutching the rock in her hand when her eyes turn back to me.
“What?” She looks confused and suddenly I’m not even sure if this is what I want but I continue.
“Like you put your embryo inmyuterus? No service fees. That would save a ton, right?” I’m on a roll now. “And it would be me. You wouldn’t have the stress of wondering what some random woman is doing with your baby inside her.”
Ellie’s eyes shine with tears, and I think I have her.
“I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re my sister! And I love you, and by default, Josh, and I want you both to be happy. And I would be an aunt, which I’m thinking could be pretty awesome.”
“Brooke. You’d seriously do that?”
“Of course!” I’m super enthusiastic now. Although I’m not thrilled about the process: weight gain, going to the doctor all of the time, giving birth. But I put that out of my mind because I’m really good at focusing on the positive and worrying about the consequences later. “I have no use for my uterus.”
“I don’t think you know what you’d be getting yourself into. Obviously, I’ve never been pregnant, but from what I’ve read and friends who’ve told me, it’s not exactly a walk in the park. Your body will change, you’ll be uncomfortable, your emotions will be all over the place. It’s a lot to handle.”
What I think Ellie means to say without really saying is it’s a lot to handle for you, and I agree—the body changes worry me. But she’s been ready to jump into whatever wild rollercoaster ride pregnancy and motherhood is for years, so I understand she wonders if I have what it takes to grow her a baby. Because it’s me. Wild, unreliable Brooke. A reputation that I’ve been battling back since college. Okay, maybe since I was born, but college for sure. And since our parents have been gone, Ellie’s looked after me like the nurturing, emotionally stable person she is.
I understand her reservations, but I hate that she might think putting her baby inside a stranger would be more appealing than having her own twin sister as her surrogate. For once, I want to be the one that has a solution, and I want, need, Ellie to take me up on the offer, especially now that I put it out there. I mean, how many aunts get to tell their niece or nephew that they pushed them out of their vagina?
It sounds cool until I really think about what it would be like to push a baby out of my vagina. I’m pretty sure it would never be the same. Maybe I could start saving up for that vaginal laser treatment that tightens you back up again. I saw it on aReal Housewivesepisode. Those women are always in the know about that kind of thing. When I realize most of my information is coming from reality television, I decide to not mention that part to Ellie.
“I mean, Brooke, you eat pie for breakfast.” I know where she’s going…I’ll have to improve my eating habits.
“That’s a serving of fruit.”
“What about dating? How would you date when you’re six months?”
I give her the usual eye roll that is reserved for this conversation. But Ellie brings up at good point. Not about dating, but more about sex. I can go without dating; sex might prove to be more challenging.
“The same way I date now.”
“But you don’t really date now.”
