Mission Creek Mother-To-Be

She straightened her back. All feelings of flirtiness had left her. Now she was firmly on the defense. “Forgive me, but I’m not sure that’s any of your concern. My reasons are private.”

“Whatever you tell me will be kept in confidence, I assure you.”

“That’s not the point.”

He remained imperturbable. “What is the point, then?”

“The point,” she said, with more patience than she felt, “is that this is a very personal decision, made for very personal reasons. I came here for a medical procedure, not to justify myself. But please rest assured that I gave it a great deal of serious thought.”

“That’s what I’m here to help you with,” he said, with more patience than she suspected he felt. “To make sure the decision you’ve reached is the right one for everyone involved.”

“But I don’t need help with that.” Her patience slipped a notch. “As I said, I’ve already made the decision.”

“Miss Tourbier,” Dr. Cross said, then leaned back in his chair and scrutinized her like Columbus surveying the land ahead and wondering why the West Indies didn’t look right, “the Mission Creek Clinic requires that every patient have counseling before taking this very serious step. It’s vitally important that we are all in agreement that this is an appropriate action for you to take.”

He made it sound like a legal issue instead of one of the heart. “I assure you, I’m capable of making decisions for myself. And the reason I’m here is for a medical procedure, not a psychological one.”

He leaned forward, piercing her with a gaze that suddenly wasn’t attractive so much as intimidating. “With all due respect, Miss Tourbier, it is not you that I am primarily concerned with. I agree that you are old enough to take care of yourself. My concern is for the child you wish to have.”

Melanie felt as if she’d been slapped. He may not have put it as kindly as he could have, but he was right. Of course this was about the welfare of the child. She’d come across as a selfish, spoiled brat, talking about herself and what she wanted. In all her years of being alone, she’d had only herself to worry about, but she knew once the child was real, it would be second nature for her to put him or her above all else.

“Dr. Cross,” she said, wishing she had an olive branch to extend, “I’m afraid we’ve gotten off to a bad start here. Not only do I agree that the needs of the child come first, but I appreciate the fact that you feel so strongly about it. I feel the same way.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, absolutely. This is not a decision I made lightly. I had to ask myself a lot of questions first, about whether I was ready to take on such a large responsibility. Which I am,” she hastened to add. “And about whether it was fair to bring a baby into the world without a father.”

He nodded, looking more interested than he had when she’d begun. “And what was your answer to that last question?”

She swallowed. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought that up. If she hadn’t, maybe he wouldn’t have thought to do it, either. “Well, I guess my answer is that I think any child is lucky to have one adoring parent. Some don’t have any.” She felt a pang of loss before she even realized she was thinking of her own parents. It was like that sometimes, her reaction to the loss so automatic that it came before any thought.

“I agree.” Dr. Cross’s voice was quiet. “There is nothing worse for a child than to feel unwanted.”

“Believe me, this baby will feel wanted and loved. He or she will have more loving attention than most kids. I have…means,” she understated. “I’m fortunate in that I won’t have to go to work and put my baby into someone else’s care. I’ll be there for him twenty-four hours a day.” She hesitated. “I believe that’s a tremendous advantage for him. Or her.”

A moment passed before he spoke again. “Miss Tourbier, I’m not going to play games. I am aware of your financial advantages. One of my concerns, though, is that a baby might seem to you to be a fun thing to have around, something to cuddle and play with, when in fact a baby is only a baby for a short period of time. Having a child is a lifetime commitment.”

“Dr. Cross, I’m not a teenager looking for something to comfort adolescent angst. I’m a grown woman who has contemplated this and made a careful decision.”

“And I want to help make sure it’s the right one.”

“But I don’t need help with that, since, as I’ve said, I’ve already made the decision.” Half an hour ago she’d hoped she’d meet this man again. Now he was turning into the biggest obstacle to her plan. Be careful what you wish for, she thought.

“Please understand, here at the clinic we like this to be a cooperative process.”

“Well, I’m trying to cooperate, but I feel like I’m up against some stiff opposition and I’m not sure why.”

He kept his gaze steady on her. “What you perceive as opposition is simply caution.”

“And what is it about me that makes you feel so cautious?”

“You are a young woman seeking to raise a child alone.”

“Why is that so shocking?”

“Not shocking,” he said in a measured tone. “But only about five percent of our cases are single mothers.”

“And do all of them undergo such scrutiny?”

“Every one of them.”

“It’s a wonder you’ve stayed in business, then.”

“It’s one of the reasons why business is thriving here. Our standards are high for both our patients and—” he paused “—our donors.”

Melanie’s face felt very hot. She knew they were picky about their donors, of course. That was why she’d chosen this particular clinic. She didn’t want sperm from some guy who was trying to make a quick five bucks to support his drinking or drug habit. She wanted the father of her baby to be someone who was carefully screened.

“All right, let’s cut to the chase,” Melanie said. “What are you worried about in my case?”

“It’s not easy to be a single mother. I’m afraid the reality of parenting might be a bit different from what you expect. Although you’re not the first single woman to want to conceive, you are young and clearly used to a lifestyle that allows you unusual freedom.”

“What’s your point?”

“What happens if it all turns out to be much harder, and maybe a lot less enjoyable, than you expect?”

“I’m sure at times it will be,” she said steadily. “And at those times I will love my child just the same.” She chose her words carefully. “Dr. Cross, life is often not what we expect. I have learned that several times over. But I would never, ever take on a responsibility like this if I wasn’t ready to give it one hundred percent.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His voice softened and he scribbled something in her folder. “Honestly, I am. However, I’m sure you understand that we need to explore this further. It’s our standard operating procedure.”

She glanced at the desk. Did he have some sort of checklist he had to go through? “Okay,” she said, resigned. “Explore away. We’ll do it your way. I want you to feel as comfortable with this as I do.”

He gave her the look a teacher might give a mischievous child. “Now you’re suddenly feeling cooperative?”

“I’m suddenly feeling that I have no choice.”

He shrugged and gave her a quick smile. “That will do, I guess. So tell me, do you have any experience with children?”

She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Not exactly.”

“Hmm.” He leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers before his face. “What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

“Does a person have to have experience with children in order to have one?” she countered.

“Not necessarily—”

“Good. Because I’m perfectly willing to learn on the job.”

He kept his eyes on her for a moment, then made another note. She tried to see what he was writing but couldn’t.