me that we needed to move to a larger place. Then we saw this house on nearly three acres of land, which was about as close as we could get to my childhood home. As I ran farther, I thought of my dad, who died when I was twenty-two, and wondered what he might think about our problem. If I could call him right now, what would be my first question? I knew he would give us unconditional love and support no matter what we did. I bet he’d tell me that the decisions were mine to make, not his. He was such a powerful influence on the way I analyze situations, I knew that I’d handle this in a way that would make him proud.
As I turned onto the road that leads to the trail I run most evenings, it was as if the problem was laid out before me on the flat landscape of northwestern Ohio. Father Cardone was right about needing to stay focused on today and not spinning complications out far into the future. We had enough to do getting through the next day. We definitely needed to keep the news private, as we had done with the prior two pregnancies. The prudent thing seemed to be to suffer in silence until we knew the pregnancy was going the distance.
My pace picked up as I turned onto the road that led into the park, originally landscaped as a golf course. The terrain is dotted with small hills and shallow ponds. I chose the short route, only twenty minutes, because I knew Carolyn needed me back home.
Carolyn.
She was going to suffer so much through the next eight months and for a long time after that. The physical part was daunting, but we had great medical care. That part I knew she would find a way to endure. But the emotional part was uncharted territory. We’d been through many pregnancies and terrifying ups and downs with fertility. And even with all that, I knew I’d never really understand thebond she would develop with the baby. Could I help her through it? I’d do what I could, but that probably wouldn’t be enough. We would need to develop a support system so that she would be free to go through whatever feelings she had. Getting help would be the best way to protect her.
The day’s events raced through my mind. We needed a lawyer, and we might even need more than one. What power did the genetic family have over Carolyn, me, and the baby? We needed an attorney to give us clarity on the family law involved. We needed an intermediary who could protect our identity, at least at first, in our contact with the other family. They might want to meet us right away, but why would we need to meet with them until we knew the pregnancy was going to result in a delivery?
And when the secret got out, when Carolyn started to show, we’d have to explain somehow why she was pregnant but we would not be able to keep the baby. We’d have to tell those around us about the mistake with the IVF. That would be excruciating. The only plausible explanation was the truth. But how were we going to tell everyone? And when? If the media got on to this story, they could get things wrong, and that scared the hell out of me.
As I ran harder, sweat dripped down my face. My breaths became stronger and deeper as I got into the rhythm of my run. The day would come when we would have to share our secret, but that was way down the road. Try to stay in the present , I told myself, just like Father Cardone said.
The boys. I didn’t want the boys to suffer because of this. They were developing into such good young men, excellent students and very good athletes. I still coached basketball and cross-country at the boys’ school, and I didn’t want to give that up. I couldn’t let those kids on the teams down any more than I could abandon my own boys. Yet if today was any indication, this crisis would probably add substantial hours to my workweek. Well, I’d just have to suck it up and work harder. The tough part would be the durationof the pregnancy: the next eight months. We’d get through it. We’d have to.
As I exited the park and turned home,