Ella's Womb

- The invitro specialist said it was possible they could mix their sperm, giving each an equal chance of being the biological father, but John had no desire to create a child, only to love one. -

John cosied up next to Kyle his head on his husband's chest; it was a chilly morning with the first snowflakes of the year softening the hurried world outside. "You know we are worrying and waiting together Kyle; want to talk about it"? Kyle hesitated, cleared his throat and in his comforting, matter-of-fact way tried to soothe John.

- There are many ways to share love and to grow as a family.-

Tonight Ella, their surrogate, was coming around dinner, the baby's room was ready and the guest bedroom had a bouquet of red roses waiting for her. She would stay with them until the birth of their son. The excitement and emotions attached to becoming parents filled the old brownstone as if it were Christmas.

The nursery was a sunny yellow, the curtains were a royal blue, and the crib had been Kyle's. Together they had picked out every detail from the 100% eco-friendly cotton bedding, to the high tech nursery cam so they didn't miss a thing when they were in the living room or kitchen. The rocking chair was a gift from John's colleagues at his law firm. All the clothes, all the little matching sets meant their son would be the best dressed baby in Park Slope. Yet, a huge piece of unspoken hurt lie between them, a hurt they had to push away as the days grew nearer to Ella's due date of November 1st.

~ "I want nothing to do with this absurdity! I have accepted you as gay John, even attended your wedding over your father's dead body, but this, THIS! You're selfish, the both of you. Just go back to Brooklyn and don't come back here with a baby. How much more do I have to go through with you? You said you had good news! For Christ's sake." ~

While John was shaving a tear fell as he recalled his mother's stinging words - Ugh, my first Thanksgiving without Mom orchestrating every detail- his only job for what seemed like decades was to stack the albums in the stereo to drop, then later make a Spotify playlist and mix and pour the welcome drinks on cue. Kyle had been slowly accepted by his staunch Presbyterian father, their one thing in common other than John had been chess. The family swore they'd never finished a single match: was it a way of butting heads civilly or a true pairing of calculating minds?

Just after Thanksgiving, two years ago now, John's father had a severe stroke rendering him paralyzed and non verbal. He and Kyle flew back to Illinois regularly to see him and support his mother. They had been a family, sang, laughed, rang in the New Year together for years. And when his Dad died, Kyle was asked to be a pallbearer.

John wiped the tears from his eyes and planted his assuring smile on his face for his beloved husband and after a quick jaunt to the market for some dark chocolate, Ella's favourite, the two began cooking a warming, family meal. Shephard's pie, roasted red beets with feta, rucola, walnuts and creamy balsamic with homemade rolls. Kyle, busied with every detail managed to divert his mind from wandering into the losses they'd faced together, that is for the most part.

Kyle's mother had been eager to be a grandmother, yet her battle with breast cancer was closing in. As they waited for Ella's arrival, Kyle had called the hospice nurse who had asked if he could come tonight following dinner. He'd never known his father, like John, he was an only child. He had repeatedly said to his husband, "I hope we have twins, being an only child is hell."

The doorbell rang and both men sprung down the walnut stained stairway to greet Ella. But it wasn't Ella!

"Mom?" - There stood John's mother in a little navy pea-coat, her brown eyes longing to say more. A yellow cab waited behind her at the curb. She asked to come in. - The husband's eyes widened, her timing so off, yet Kyle took the leap of faith and said, "of course, let me get your bag.

John stood reserved, further back in the corridor eyeing her cautiously as she spoke. - she'd come to her senses, realised what a tremendously sad time it was for Kyle who was on the brink of losing his mother and carried on about her harsh reaction to them becoming parents. She asked for a second chance.- Then the doorbell rang, again.

Kyle blurted out, "the pie!" and ran off to the kitchen, John waved his mother to the living room where she immediately helped herself to a good, stiff scotch. She could overhear Ella's voice, her heart sinking.

"I'm sorry I just can't, I know we have a contract, that you can sue me and make it miserable for all of us, but I can't let him go."

John begged her to talk it through with Kyle as well, to stay, to eat. Ella repeatedly said no. Her cab was waiting. John's mother, Elisabeth, heard his guttural sobbing and sprung form the sofa to comfort him. He pushed her away, his voice quivering he told her to get out. Kyle, hearing cries and shouting appeared, clueless.

"What's with you two?" He had on his apron that read, "Proud Dad": John continued to shout at his mother, "You never wanted a grandchild, so now your wish has come true. Just leave!"

Kyle's jaw dropped, "Whoa! Where's Ella?" - a strong quiet blanketed the small entryway where they had gathered.

Elisabeth took Kyle's hand, "She left, she's changed her mind. I'm so sorry."

Both men stared at each other: this can't be happening! Kyle mumbled something about, it's my sperm, my son. Words about rights, laws and how they must stop her from stealing their baby fell across the sighs, the shock.

Elisabeth pulled her pea-coat on and opened the door, tugging at her suitcase. Neither men tried to stop her. They watched as she hailed a cab and it drove away into the dark night.

As the husband's embraced on the sofa, sparing words for some time, the phone rang. Amidst the warmth of scents from the kitchen, the pie, the rolls, the broken hope, Kyle braced himself for bad news. Had he missed seeing his mother one last time? John knew what he was feeling as he rubbed Kyle's back gently.

Kyle's eyes began to overflow with tears, he clicked the phone off.

Turning to John he took his husband's hands in his and smiled. "That was Ella; she regrets having a brief setback, for her upset and apologised. She's on her way back! We're going to be Daddy's!"