All the Good Parts (29 page)

CHAPTER 34

Nursing 320 (Online): Community Health

Private Message—Darryl K to Leona A

Darryl K:
Time is ticking . . .

Leona A:
What does that mean? What happened? Did the doctor say something?

Darryl K:
Calm down. I was talking about you. We are not discussing the C word today. I mean it. I’m now convinced talking about it has made it spread. So shut it.

Leona A:
We can talk in code to trick it.

Darryl K:
No, Leona.

Leona A:
Fine.

Darryl K:
All righty. So. You still aren’t running off to Ireland, are you?

Leona A:
A small part of me wants to. Most of me doesn’t. In this instance there are only two choices. I feel like, for something this important, there should be a full list of alternatives.

Darryl K:
What about the other thing?

Leona A:
Oh, so we are speaking in code.

Darryl K:
You know what I mean.

Leona A:
Yeah. I’m teasing because I’ve got no answer for you on that one.

Darryl K:
If it seems like you don’t have any choices, it’s because you aren’t looking hard enough.

Leona A:
Oh, I have choices. That’s the problem. Who was it that said hell is having too many choices? One of those French guys?

Darryl K:
Sartre. Pronounced in the same spirit as . . . Favre.

Leona A:
Of course you would know that.

Darryl K:
Details, please.

Leona A:
Donal offered to help me.

Darryl K:
In a clinical way, or hopping into bed with you under your sister’s nose?

Leona A:
Turkey baster! Are you kidding?

Darryl K:
Maybe I’m getting a little cynical. Sorry.

Leona A:
A little?

Darryl K:
Okay, maybe more than a little. So . . . don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s the catch?

Leona A:
There isn’t one. There are no conditions.

Darryl K:
Oh, no, honey. There always are. When someone is extending a kindness of that magnitude, there are conditions. Carly and Donal might not be aware that they even exist, but believe me, they will surface.

Leona A:
Way to burst a bubble.

Darryl K:
I didn’t say you shouldn’t accept their offer. Just think about all the variables before you do. Do you want to say yes, or is the hunky sperm bank donor more practical?

Leona A:
Well . . . here’s the latest—I’ve added another to the list. My possible future gene pool now numbers three—Donal; Dream Man, anonymous sperm donor; and Paul, the used-to-be-an-asshole-but-is-actually-kind-of-interesting son of Jerry, my home-health patient.

Darryl K:
Stellar genetic material there.

Leona A:
Shut up.

Darryl K:
I’m actually not kidding. All three have their attributes.

Leona A:
Maybe I should draw a chart. I’m good at that.

Darryl K:
Maybe you should make a decision. I’m kind of hoping the reincarnation thing pans out, but right now, it looks like we all have one go-around. Don’t waste time. Are you having trust issues? Is that it?

Leona A:
I trust Donal completely. I won’t have to trust Anonymous Dream Man, as he’s vetted by the fertility place. Paul’s the wild card.

Darryl K:
I didn’t mean the guys. I meant, don’t you trust your opinion?

Leona A:
Good question. Can I get back to you on that?

This Brophy family meeting was officially rated PG-13. Patrick, Kevin, and Josie were playing upstairs with the rare-as-a-unicorn paid high school babysitter. I sat at the kitchen table with Carly, Donal, and Maura, the latter included because of her newly hatched status as a kick-ass woman in training, and the fact that she overheard Carly speaking to Donal about their offer. Three of us were drinking wine. One of us was sucking down a neon-green Slurpee.

“This is weird,” said the Slurpee sucker.

Donal exhaled. “Yeah,” he said. “But maybe if we discuss it a bit, it won’t be.”

“But not the gross parts,” Maura added.

“There’s nothing gross about human reproduction,” Carly huffed. She stood and brought the bottle of wine to the table. Her hands trembled as she moved to refill our glasses.

For a moment I felt like telling them all to forget it, that we should go to bed and get up in the morning and pretend nothing was changing our lives. Nothing at all. Instead, I said, “I need some clarification before we proceed.”

“You never talk like that,” Maura said, rolling her eyes. “You sound like a lawyer. Or a teacher.”

I glared at her. “This is an important part of the process. I need to know what your parents’ expectations are . . . afterward.”

Carly and Donal looked at each other. “We don’t have any,” she said, and Donal nodded, adding, “We weren’t trying to get you to come to Ireland with us, if that’s what got you worried.”

“What if you resent the baby?” I asked my sister. “What if you start to hate me? What if this causes a rift between us that can’t be fixed?”

Thinking about life with my sister living thousands of miles away was bad enough, but a life in which I knew she couldn’t stand to be around me was so much worse. Something dawned on me. “That’s why you didn’t offer this before. You knew it would cause problems, didn’t you?”

“No.” She took a large sip of wine and swished it around her mouth as she stared at the ceiling. “I just—” For once my sister was at a loss for words. She took another swig of wine and said quietly, “Maura, please leave the room. I want to talk to Daddy and Auntie Lee alone.”

Donal scooted his chair in so Maura could pass, but she put her small hand on his arm. “Don’t. I’m staying.”

Carly’s voice turned steely. “I just asked you to leave.”

“No,” Maura said with more fervor. “I’m old enough to hear this.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I would like to stay,” she replied, putting some muscle into it. “Please, Mom.”

Carly was silent a moment. “Okay,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “You want to be treated like an adult, then I’m going to oblige. But even if you don’t like what I’m about to say, you keep your mouth closed until I’m done, then you can respond. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her face going so pale the stitches resembled sticks on snow. However bold she felt just seconds before, she was afraid of what Carly was going to say.
I
was afraid of what Carly was going to say.

“I met your dad in a bar downtown—” my sister began, throwing a quick smile toward Donal.

“I know that,” Maura interrupted. “What does this have to do with—”

“Maura.”

“Sorry.”

“I thought he was cute and funny, and he had this odd way of bouncing on the balls of his feet when he walked across a street.”

“I still do that,” Donal said proudly.

“He was great, but I wasn’t in love with him when I found out I was pregnant with you—”

“For heaven’s sake—” I interrupted, tempted to lunge forward and slap my hand over her mouth.

“No, this is relevant,” Carly insisted. “She says she’s old enough to hear it.”

Maura bounced in her chair. “Stop! You’re hurting Daddy’s feelings.”

“No, she’s not,” Donal said. He squeezed Carly’s knee. “I think I know where this is going.”

Carly placed her hand over her husband’s and continued. “So, I liked this nice man, Donal. A lot. I wondered if it might turn into something more, and I was thrilled a few months later, when I realized I did love him, so very much. But . . . he wasn’t my first love.” At this, Carly jabbed a finger in Maura’s direction. “
You
were. I loved you from the moment I found out I carried you in my body. It was miraculous and soul crushing and borderline obsessive—everything first love should be. A girl never forgets her first, because that’s the one who opens her heart for everyone else. I couldn’t have loved your father or your brothers and sister as much as I do if it wasn’t for you. I will be grateful to you for the rest of my life.”

Maura went completely still, staring at Carly like she’d never seen her before.

“I’m sure Auntie Lee remembers what happened to me during that time, but I’d forgotten how strong those feelings were, how much they changed my life for the better,” Carly said, her voice gentle. “Auntie Lee wants to feel that love more than anything else, and Daddy and I want to help make that happen for her.”

She reached across the table and tenderly brushed a strand of russet hair from Maura’s cheek. “My beautiful girl, I think you’ve learned that things don’t always happen how you want them to, and that’s okay, because sometimes the end result is so joyful it erases all the painful stuff that happened while you were on your way. Do you understand?”

Maura dipped her head.

Carly turned to me. “We want to help because we want to help. That’s all there is to it.”

“Which is your sister’s way of telling you the only expectations we have are of ourselves, that we should love our niece or nephew with everything we’ve got,” Donal contributed.

I couldn’t open my mouth, for fear my heart would come tumbling out. Instead, I settled with giving Carly’s hand a squeeze.

“Mom?” Maura said, finding her voice. “Can I respond now?”

“Of course.”

“The night you guys met each other. Which bar was it? I forgot.”

Carly gave her daughter an odd look. “Kitty O’Shea’s. The one at the hotel on Michigan Avenue.”

“Daddy, you bought us lunch there once,” Maura said, and then she burst into tears, sobs racking her small shoulders. Carly got up and held her until the wave passed, kissing the top of her head and murmuring something I couldn’t quite catch in her ear.

Those words weren’t meant for me. This moment was not mine, not even to witness. Donal, probably sensing this, placed a hand on Maura’s back. “Let’s leave Auntie Lee alone. She’s got some thinking to do.”

“Good luck deciding, Auntie Lee,” Maura said, but her attention never strayed from her mother’s face. I heard the dull thuds of their footsteps, louder as they moved more rapidly up the stairs when they got closer to the rest of the family, as though they couldn’t wait to join them.

Leona Accorsi ID#07311965

Nursing 320: Reflective Essay

Professor Larmon

Topic 3: Discuss the last time you visited a health professional. Evaluate the experience from a patient’s perspective. Describe how the staff treated you, if you felt the diagnosis was correct, and if the follow-up procedures inspired confidence. What lessons can be learned by this experience? Could you adopt any of them into your philosophy of nursing?

Last week, I visited a fertility clinic. I was there to discuss buying sperm. My diagnosis is a desire to get pregnant. Complicating factors—fear, longing, indecisiveness, worry, loneliness, family issues, confusion, and a body that is nearly forty years old.

Though people come to sperm banks in search of the same thing, their reasons vary. A couple may have experienced trouble conceiving. A man may suffer from low sperm count, or his sperm may be wonkily shaped or a little lazy. Lesbian couples, for obvious reasons. Or, someone like me. A single woman who took a while to work out what she really wanted out of life.

A nurse called my name shortly after I arrived. I filled out some paperwork, and then she brought me into a spotless room decorated entirely in white. It was sterile and trustworthy. It made me think of heaven, like they were about to give me the ability to reach up and pluck my baby from the clouds. We sat in front of a shiny white coffee table, where a number of dossiers awaited my perusal. I was allowed to choose one from a stack of ten. I’d never been in the position of picking someone. I was always last picked for any sports team, and at work I never rose far enough in the ranks to be in charge of anyone but myself. Daunted, I took my time, but the nurse never rushed me. I suppose this is a lesson I could put into practice—when someone is making one of the most important decisions of her life, give her a little breathing room.