Baby Steps

That's Him

Brooke Lynn’s POV:

The next couple months were filled with research, appointments, and discussions on our next steps. There was charts and diagrams and period trackers. I was getting lost in everything, but Vanessa….. She just knew what to do!

One thing that everyone was worried about, everyone except Vanessa and I, was money.

“You really want to do that?”

“Do you even make enough to have a baby?”

 “That’s so expensive!”

"Don't you think you're a little young still?"

“There’s other options, you know.”

We did know, but this was what we wanted. Anyways, nobody knew this but money wasn’t an issue for us.

We had been out of school for about two months when I got the call. My nana, my grandma on my dad’s side, had passed away. We had been expecting it kind of. She had been frail.

Before my graduation, we had talked. She told me that she wanted to pay for my college. I told her that I wasn’t planning on going to college straight away, or even at all if I found something I loved doing. I expected her to be disappointed, but instead she had smiled. She said she understood and she just wanted me to be happy. She knew about my sexuality, and she loved and accepted me.

“Use it to start a family someday then.” 

And that’s exactly what I planned on.

And that’s exactly what I’m doing.

Nobody knew about the conversation with my nana, and nobody needed to. Nobody knew about the money, and that’s okay.

So every time someone said something about the cost, I’d smile patiently and say: we’ve got it handled.

The longest process was finding a donor. We took at least a month and a half. Finally, we narrowed it down to two. My choice, and Vanessa’s choice.

My choice was Mr. #36654. He was 6ft5, built very muscular, blonde hair, green eyes, healthy, and he worked in Neuroscience. Mr. #36654’s “About Me” was impressive. He was athletic, had played high school and college basketball. He said he decided to become a donor when he met his- my heart jumped- husband. He got an 1150 on his SAT, and his IQ was 110. Intelligent.

Vanessa’s choice was Mr. #89949. He was shorter, not as athletic, and blonde hair and blue eyes. That was a must. He was an artist. He illustrated comic books. In school, he was in the band, where he learned to play three different instruments: Saxophone, clarinet, and piano. He was healthy. He was intelligent as well, and an IQ of 125.

We argued and argued on who we were going to choose; until we decided to look at the list of donors again. That’s when we came across Mr. #45768, and he was a mixture of both of them. He had the blonde hair, he had the blue eyes. He was tall, athletic, and his “About Me” talked about how when he wasn’t playing baseball, he was playing the guitar, or writing. It talked about how journalism was his passion. He seemed like a perfect mixture of what we both wanted in a donor.

“That’s him.” Vanessa said with a smile, and I kissed her nose.

“Yes.” I sighed, “yes it is.”