Co-Parenting

Two: Awkward Conversations

"You'd better get used to nausea from what I hear, darling. And I'm offended. Am I really that disgusting?"

"Um, no. But I don't think that I could..." I waved my hand in the general direction of his crotch. "Do... that."

"Ouch. Ok ok. I get it. Your best friend is repulsive." You'd think his fragile male ego was broken with the look he was giving me—time for a subject change.

"From the things I've read, we just go to a fertility clinic. You give them a sample, and they inject it in me. If it takes, then we go from there; if it doesn't, then we can get them to implant a fertilized embryo with IVF."

"You make it sound so... clinical." His distaste was apparent, but the alternative was not ever going to be an option. I couldn't go through with it. No matter how blue his eyes were or how attractive he looked with his tie loosened and the scruff he sported from not shaving this morning.

Stop looking at the attractive man on the couch, Delia.

"It is clinical. We're two single people making a baby using science, not some drunken one-night stand."

"We could go that route as well," he laughed as the eyebrows started wiggling again. He really was enjoying poking fun at this, but I could see the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"As much as I'm flattered, Hank, I think I'll have to pass. It can take the average couple up to a year to conceive the first time. Do you really want to be stuck having sex with me for over a year?"

"Regular sex for a whole year. I think I could force myself," he smirked as he tipped back his beer and finished it in three large gulps. I watched his Adam's apple as it flexed and contemplated for a minute what it would be like to let Hank have it his way... nope, can't do it.

Shaking my head to rid it of inappropriate thoughts, I sat down beside him on the couch and turned to face him, pulling my legs up underneath me. "I don't want to make things weird between us. If this is something you can't handle, I need you to tell me now."

"I can; I'm sorry, it's just awkward. I didn't exactly see this coming. I didn't realize that my weekend would be this interesting," he joked. "I just thought I'd go out to a bar and maybe make-out with some random chick, not agree to impregnate my best friend."

"I don't want to cramp your style, Hank; I'm serious. You have to be a hundred percent ready to have and raise a child and be linked to me for the rest of your life. It's not something to joke about. I really want you to think about this."

"I have," he nodded, reaching forward to put his empty bottle down on the coffee table and turning to face me. "I'm ready."

At least one of us was ready.

......

The following week, I had an appointment at my OB/GYN to talk things over. The fertility clinic that I'd researched required a clean bill of health and a total fertility workup before they'd do a consultation.

"Ms. Waltham?" Dr. Christiansen asked as she settled onto her stool and put her laptop down on the counter. I'd only ever seen her every other year for annual exams. I was sure she was wondering why I was here for more than the usual downstairs probe.

"That's me," I mumbled nervously as I shifted on the paper covering the exam table. I'd always hated my yearly appointments. It was so weird sitting in a gown with slats down the front with no underwear, only a tiny sheet to cover your lap. That stupid crinkly white paper continually sticking to your exposed ass cheeks.

"So, it says here that you want your yearly exam done with a baseline fertility test. Are we contemplating pregnancy?"

"Something like that." I nodded as she put on a pair of gloves and urged me to lay back on the exam table.