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Back The Surrogate Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Part Two
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Forty-Five
  51. Forty-Six
  52. Forty-Seven
  53. Forty-Eight
  54. Forty-Nine
  55. Fifty
  56. Fifty-One
  57. Part Three
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Fifty-Four
  61. Fifty-Five
  62. Fifty-Six
  63. Acknowledgments
  64. About the Author
  65. About the Publisher

The chalet had a beautiful large stone fireplace wall, plate-glass windows, and a six-person hot tub on the back deck. The boys wanted nothing to do with the hot tub, so that became our oasis. We donned thick white terry-cloth robes and tiptoed to the hot tub each night, with sleeping mountains in the background and twinkling lights surrounding the deck. Those were the best moments of the week.

And that was where and when we agreed we’d make our own baby together.

Seventeen

Cally

MARCH 14, 2002

I learned that there were a lot of ways to do an insemination. I never thought the turkey baster thing was real, but apparently, lots of women did it that way, and apparently, it worked. And there were fancy, more technical versions of the baster. Or some surrogates, like in the Bible, actually had sex with the intended father. But that wasn’t how we did it, thank God. I liked Hal, but he was too old for me. And Ruth never would have allowed that. Nope! Ruth chose the clean and sterile way. At a clinic. With a syringe.

When Ruth and I arrived at Dr. Salovich’s office for the procedure, I had to wait in line before I could check in. To give me privacy, Ruth sat in the waiting area. This was a nice one. Bright and modern. It had a happy feel; after all, this was a place where babies were made. The receptionist seemed glad to see me. “Have a seat, Miss Scott. We’ll be right with you,” she said. Clearly, she recognized me from previous visits, when I’d gotten my shots and prenatal checkups.

I sat next to Ruth and flipped through the parenting magazines. I’d been in a waiting room like this before, when I went in for a Pap smear and exam at my ob-gyn’s office, and they also had a bunch of parenting magazines. But these magazines were different, with titles like American Journal of Fertility and Surrogacy Today. Sitting next to Ruth, I could have been mistaken for her daughter, and I wondered how I could let the other people in the waiting room know I was a surrogate. I wanted them to know I was here for insemination, not infertility.