Page 81 of Am I Allergic to Men?
‘But…’ Beth says, working it out. ‘She was fit and active too. Remember she used to go on those months of health kicks and diets. She’d tell us she was detoxing her body.’
‘She was an ideal candidate,’ Dr Jacobs explains. ‘I apologise, this is a lot to perhaps get to grips with…’
We all sit back in the sofa to absorb the information. ‘Did I ever say why…?’ I ask the doctor.
‘Well, without sounding crass, it paid well so I think that was attractive to you but you also once told me you never wanted children of your own so you didn’t want all these good genes to go to waste. You were always very amusing, Lucy, but I did get the sense that behind the financial rewards you wanted to do a good thing.’
Beth starts to tear up now at the thought of it all, this secret altruist who used to harvest her organs to pay her rent but also leave some sort of legacy in the world. It brings a smile to my face to know that next to that all-singing, all-dancing and all-swearing Lucy, there was at least a part of me that was trying to do something decent. Meg’s brow tells me different though.
‘I just can’t get my head round this… the ethics…’
‘Lucy was very relaxed about it all. She was offered counselling as a donor and she understood her rights and those of the parents. She was always very popular in the clinic, very chatty. I think we knew everything about you, more than a normal doctor should. You had a cat with an amusing name…’
‘Pussy?’
‘That was it. You used to show us pictures and ones of all your family. You persuaded my receptionist, Janine, to leave her husband.’
That’s why she was smiling at me. It’s quite an image to think of me with my legs akimbo chatting to Janine about her shit husband and how she could do so much better in life. But then again, it’s not a surprise.
‘I could never quite tell if you came in here all chatty to mask your worry about the procedures or if it was just what you were like,’ Dr Jacobs continues.
‘No, it’s all her,’ Meg adds.
He smiles, telling me he’d already thought as much. ‘Look, I can send you away with all the literature and forms you signed, just to verify it. Maybe if the circumstances have changed, we can also review those documents,’ the doctor says calmly.
‘No, it’s OK. It’s just another thing new to process,’ I reply. ‘So you just scooped the eggs out? Like frogspawn?’
Dr Jacobs laughs. ‘To a point.’
‘And now there’s a whole jar of them stored in a fridge somewhere?’
‘Yes, Lucy. In ice cube trays.’
‘Really?’
‘No.’
This does make Beth and Meg laugh for which I’m glad as it breaks this strange tension in the room.
‘So, we know why you’re pinned on my notes then. This date, 9th February. Was it an appointment I had then?’ I ask.
He pauses for a moment, wondering whether to divulge. Given that he’s obviously had me in stirrups and foraged my eggs out of me, I don’t think there are any more secrets we can keep from each other. He goes over to a desk drawer and rifles through it, before he pulls out a card and brings it over.
Oscar Avery, 7lbs 12oz, born 9th February 2022
A picture of a baby wrapped up like the most edible wrap sandwich you could imagine lies next to the words, his eyes closed, hand tucked under his cheek. He looks familiar.
‘A lot of egg donation is anonymous. You find out about the donor and then that’s it, but the Avery family wanted to know you more and asked for contact. Mum asked us to send on certain details with her thanks.’
‘And they named their baby after the doctor who helped them get pregnant,’ Beth concludes, tears rolling down her face. ‘Lucy, that’s your baby.’
‘But it isn’t…’ I mumble. ‘I helped to do this?’
Dr Jacobs nods and I laugh, in shock, in wonder. That’s a baby, a real-life baby. He’s so cute it hurts my bloody eyes.
‘Oh, Lucy…’ Meg says, holding tightly onto my arm.
Are they proud of me, finally? Look at me doing big girl things when you guys weren’t looking.
