I slowed down in order to gather my thoughts. I would tackle the family law issues in the morning by talking to my boyhood friend Marty Holmes Jr., who is an attorney. If we needed a specialist, Marty would know who to recommend.
I took my last fifty strides up the drive to our house, overcome with the enormity of all the things we needed to try to control. I stood outside in the cold for a few minutes looking out at the snow-covered landscape that stretched flat and straight as far as the eye could see. The night was cloudless, and above me I saw a sky thick with stars. Normally this sight would bring me serenity. That night, I looked up at our bedroom window and saw the light on. Carolyn was still awake, and I knew she was suffering. Trauma had forced its way into our home, and I had no idea how or when it would leave.
The simple act of opening the front door without using a key made me feel as if I was leaving my family unprotected. Out where we lived, so removed from any dangers, we rarely locked any of our doors. From that night forward, I pledged to lock the doors and double-check them before I went to sleep.
C HAPTER 4
Our Cup Runneth Over
SEAN
A S I CAME INTO the bedroom, I found Carolyn on the phone with the fertility doctor. Why was she so polite with him? I think my flustered look helped motivate her to end the call. As I was trying to get to sleep, the doctor called on my cell phone again. He was making an impossible day worse. I reached to answer it so I could tell him off, but I decided to let it go to voice mail.
The next day Carolyn remained sick. It hadn’t been morning sickness after all, at least not yet. Mary Kate was a little grumpy too, unusual for her. I hoped she wasn’t coming down with the same flu that Carolyn had.
That day I consulted with Marty and his associate Mary Smith, a family law attorney, about writing a letter that would formally sever our relationship with the fertility doctor. Early the next day I made the trip to the fertility doctor’s office. My nature is to avoid confrontation, but I wanted to be straightforward and end the relationship in person.
I’d saved the doctor’s voice-mail message from Monday night, and I listened to it before I went to his office. The message was frantic, and I felt bad that he and his family were suffering so much.Listening to it again reminded me that we were dealing with human beings and we needed to care for everyone, regardless of what they had done to us. This was a good thought to hold before I sat down with him. I needed to manage my anger and exercise self-control in this meeting. I hadn’t warned him that I was coming, but I figured, after all those phone calls, he’d see me right away. Within seconds, he appeared and ushered me into his private office.
The doctor looked like I felt: neither of us had gotten any sleep. His talk was all over the place—apologizing, offering to give us a lifetime of free fertility treatments, and declaring that this mistake was in no way his fault. At one point he even suggested “reverse surrogacy”: transferring our embryos into the other woman’s body and keeping the baby she delivered. The idea sounded like it belonged in the circus.
I handed him this letter.
Dear Doctor,
You have informed us that three of another couple’s embryos were transferred into Carolyn on February 6 and that Carolyn is now with child. We have received independent verification of the pregnancy. The purpose of this letter is to outline a few items. We have chosen not to terminate the pregnancy. We are requesting that you notify the genetic parents immediately. In the notification process we need to have our privacy protected. Please do not provide the genetic parents any information regarding us at this time, only the fact that we have decided to continue the pregnancy until delivery. We ask that the genetic parents contact our representatives, Marty Holmes and Mary Smith, as soon as they want to establish