September 2019/Fairlady 33My story
into action. Menopause was looming on the horizon,
hovering over my future, waiting to tell me that my
number was up. I had no idea that the desire for a
child could become an obsession; a deep and burning
need that takes over one’s whole being. Nothing else
will do. No high-flying job, no financial success, no
exciting man can fill that space. It’s a primal urge that
demands fulfilment. For years it was calling for my
attention and now that call was deafening. There was
no time to waste.
Undeterred by my single status, I set about finding
the man, a sperm donor. By now, compatibility, shared
values or mutual attraction were irrelevant. The clock
was ticking, the race was on. The relationship that
wouldgivemea babyhadtobe
fast-tracked.I hadcriteriaof
course,a checklistagainstwhichto
measureidealfatherqualities.No
suitablematepresentedhimself;
likebabies,theydon’tarriveon
demand.Butnevermind.I had
a PlanB.
Artificialinseminationwasup
next.Choosinga designerbaby
withtherightcoloureyes,hair,
heightandpromisinggenes– why
not?Numerousvisitstothefertil-
ityclinic,egg-boosters,hormone
injectionsandallthepalaverthat
gowiththeunnaturalcreationof
a childwereallinvain.Nature
refusedtoplayalong.Clearlymychilddidnotwant
toarrivethisway;didnotwantananonymousfather.
It seemedtheoddswereagainstit,anyway.My
chancesof conceivingwereapparentlynotonlyslim,
butalmostnon-existent.Myoriginallybountifulsupply
of eggswasnowsolowthatI wasgivenonlya 1-3%
chanceof conceiving,evenwithintervention.And
witheveryyearthatpassed,theseoddswouldworsen.
Thisdismalprognosisfuelledmyanguish,already
inhighgear.BecauseI havealwaysfeltmuchyounger
thanmybiologicalage,I hadnaivelyassumedthat
mybodywouldalignitselfaccordingly– as if fertility
wereundermycontrol.Asif thefactthatother
womenhadbabiesintheirfortiesmeantthatI could,
too.Asif thechoiceweremine.
Buttheflickerof hope,whiledimmingrapidly,
wasnotyetextinguished– I couldn’tgiveup.Next,theadoptionprocess.Anemotionalyearof
persuadingcynicalcounsellorsthatI wouldmakean
exemplarymother– toanybody’schild.Aftermonthsof interviews, house visits and endless questions, they
remained unconvinced. While my desperation must
have been obvious, it was not compelling enough, in
their view. No doubt they had seen many such cases
and probably thought I would get over it, would
change my mind.
Grieving at my irrevocably childless state, I tried
to make peace with my life as it was. But peace would
not come. My incompleteness gnawed. A deep, sad
yearning for something out of my reach was ever-present.
To me it felt like bereavement – the unbearable loss
of something I had never had and now, never would.
A personal tragedy to haunt me forever. Because it
was my fault; I had squandered my opportunities and
wasted all that time.And then the coincidence, the
serendipity, the miracle.
On a business trip to Europe,
I ran into my ex-husband. It was
completely unexpected – neither of
us knew we would be in the same
country at the same time. A brief
but amorous interlude followed. If
there were any subconscious desire
for fusion to occur, I was certainly
not aware of it. Our attempts to
have a child while we were married,
and younger, had been fruitless.
And of course, those odds...
While the flame between us had
notcompletelydied, our compatibility had. Twenty-
fourhourstogether reminded us of the reasons we had
partedinthefirst place. This door is firmly closed,
I thought,andthat’s the end of that.Butthatwasnotthe end, it was the beginning.
OursonJessehad been conceived. Wonder of
wonders...
I floatedona cloud of bliss for the next eight
months.Theobligatory older-mum tests didn’t worry
meat all.I knewthe universe was on my side; how
couldit notbe?The impossible had been made
possible.Lifehad not deserted me.
Hearrived,perfect in every way. On the day, he
lookedlikenoone in particular, as babies do – all
scrunched-upface and chubby little limbs. A warm
bundleina hospital blanket. But now he is the boy
whocalledmefrom the phone box. Exactly that boy.
I recognisehimfrom my dream.
Hewascallingto tell me not to be afraid, that he
wasonhisway.✤I had naively
assumed that my
body would align
itself accordingly- as if fertility were
under my control.
As if the fact that
other women had
babies in their
forties meant that
I could, too.
PHOTOGRAPH: GALLO IMAGES/GETTY IMAGES