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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

That morning, I’d gone to the community college to pick up registration forms and check the class schedules for after the baby was born. I was standing outside the registrar’s office, looking at the bulletin board, when I felt a pop inside. I stepped back and saw a puddle of water on the floor. Immediately, I called Ruth, and she wanted to come get me.

“But first I need to get my stuff from home,” I said.

“Okay, if you think you can, I mean, can you drive yourself to your apartment? I’ll meet you there and take you to the hospital, if you’re sure,” said Ruth, breathless.

“Yes, I can do that,” I said, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t really know what I was capable of.

“Okay, I’ll see you there. Thirty minutes.” Ruth’s voice had an intensity that made me nervous, less sure. But what choice did I have?

Half an hour later, Ruth rang my buzzer, and I let her up. I’d been waiting at the kitchen table, my coat on, my bag by the door. When I opened it, she had the biggest grin on her face. I just wanted to get going. “How far apart are the contractions?” she asked, picking up my duffel bag.

“Like ten minutes, maybe less.”

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness,” said Ruth, jumping in place, jumping without leaving the ground.

We went down the stairs together, side by side and almost too wide for the space. Ruth held out her arm for me to hang on to, dragging the duffel behind us, and we waddled down, two feet on each step.

Outside, the sidewalk was still snowy. My landlord hadn’t shoveled after the last storm, so we slowed down over the slippery spots. Ruth helped me into her car, and she drove more carefully than anyone I’d ever been with. Digger always drove so fast, I hadn’t thought I’d hate going slow even worse.

“Can you go faster?” I said. “It hurts.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, leaning toward the windshield, as if that would get us there sooner.

I thought about my mom in the Pacer and clenched my groin area, holding the baby in. I didn’t want to give birth in a car, but I had no idea how long my labor would take. When we got to the hospital, I realized I had nothing to worry about. I changed into a gown and the nurses hooked me up to monitors, and after checking my cervix, they said it would be a while before I was ready to deliver.