Page 77 of The Mother-in-Law

‘Is everything all right, Nettie?’

‘Well, actually . . . Patrick and Idohave something we’d like to discuss with you.’ She beams at Patrick, who smiles back a little less enthusiastically.

‘You’re pregnant!’ Ollie exclaims.

Nettie’s beam dims a little. ‘Well, no. Not yet. But that is what we wanted to discuss with you. The thing is, my fertility issues are multilevel. It’s not just the PCOS, it’s also my ovum and my uterus. Give me a fertility problem, and I have it.’ Her laugh is a thin, empty titter. ‘Our doctor told us this week that our best chance for conceiving a child is using a donor egg and a surrogate.’

I take a sip of my wine, drop my gaze.

‘It’s not how we imagined becoming parents, obviously. The baby wouldn’t be biologically related to me, but it would be related to Patrick and it would have been conceived to be ours. I think this is our best chance at having a baby.’

‘Wow,’ Ollie says. His expression says he doesn’t know if this good news or not. I, on the other hand, am fairly certain it isnot. ‘So you guys are going to do it? Use an egg donor and surrogate?’

‘Well that’s where it gets complicated.’ Nettie winces slightly. ‘We’d like to but egg donation and surrogacy are only allowed in Australia for altruistic reasons, so we can’t pay anyone. Someone would have to volunteer to do it—’

‘Can’t you go overseas?’ Ollie interrupts. ‘I saw a documentary about people going to India to do this. Or the United States?’

‘That’s an option,’ Nettie says. ‘But it would be very expensive. More importantly, the baby would be so far away from us while it was in utero. We wouldn’t be able to go to any scans, or check on the mother’s health, maybe not even be there for the birth, if the mother went into labour early. Also, we don’t understand the health system over there. How do we know their systems are reliable?’

Patrick still hasn’t said a word. Admittedly, it would be hard to when Nettie is sayingso manywords.

‘So what are you going to do?’ Ollie asks.

Ollie still has no idea. He must be the only one. I take another very large sip of my wine and force myself to swallow.

‘She wants me to do it,’ I say.

Nettie looks at me. She’s cautiously excited but trying to keep a lid on it. ‘I have some information here,’ she says, producing a clear plastic bag that had been sitting on her lap. I see the wordsBecoming a Surrogateprinted on the front of a purple brochure, next to a picture of a headless pregnant body. ‘It’s actually a pretty straightforward process.’

Ollie looks at Nettie, blinking wildly; a deer in the headlights. ‘You wantLucyto donate an egg? To be your surrogate?’

Nettie keeps her gaze on me. ‘I know I have no right to ask.’

‘You do have the right to ask . . .’ I say. ‘But—’

Nettie sits forward in her chair, her hands folded on the table in almost a businesslike fashion. I get the feeling she is prepped and ready to refute any argument I might have. I feel sweat bloom under my arms.

‘Wait,’ Ollie says. ‘You do want Lucy to donate an egg? And carry the baby? So it would be Lucy’s child and . . . Patrick’s?’

‘No,’ Nettie says. Her nervous energy seems to have abated now and she is oddly calm. ‘It would be mine and Patrick’s.’

‘But,’ Ollie is stuck on this point, and I agree with him, ‘biologically, it would be Lucy’s?’

‘Yes,’ Nettie admits, looking at me. ‘I don’t want to put you on the spot, Lucy, but . . . can you tell me what you think about this idea?’

I push back in my chair. ‘I mean . . . it’s a little out of the blue, Nettie. Obviously I’d need to think about it.’

‘Of course,’ Nettie says nodding. ‘Of course you do. But . . . maybe you could share yourinitialreaction?’

‘She said she needs to think about it!’ Patrick says, uncharacteristically gruff. ‘Give the woman a break!’

In contrast to Nettie’s businesslike body language, Patrick is almost sullen-looking. He sits back in his chair. His arms are crossed and his chin is lowered, almost to his chest.

‘Nettie, my initial reaction is shock,’ I tell her. ‘There’s a lot to think about. Ollie and I would have to talk about it—’

‘So itisa possibility? Itissomething you would consider?’ Nettie shuts her eyes tight and squeezes her fists as if making a wish.

‘Honestly?’ I say. ‘I don’t think it is.’