Miracle Birth

by Tracey Boone Swan

48. That’s how old she’d be next week. But not before she became a mommy for the first time! Oh, no one knew her real age. Her publicist kept that information a safely guarded secret. If she hadn’t gotten a call from her younger sister, Sharon, who over the years had become her older sister, she wouldn’t even know how old she really was.

It was a Hollywood thing. She told everyone that she was 42, but could pass for 38. With a 39 year old husband, she did what she had to do to make it all add up. Times were changing—look at Demi and Aston—she wasn’t the only woman who could get a younger man to commit to marriage. She started to feel giddy. After all this time, she was becoming a mother!

Granted, she was older than the average mom. She tried to do the math in her head. When her son was 10, she’d be almost 58—almost 60—could that be right? Almost 60? But a young 52 to the rest of the world. When he turned 20, she’d be 67, ALMOST 70 years old. She hadn’t thought of it like that back in the beginning before all the pills, procedures and trips to the OB/GYN. But it was too late for that, now. The baby was coming tomorrow!

She’d need to have another visit with Dr. Shaeffer. She made a mental note to remind herself to have Sophie, her personal assistant, make an appointment. Nothing drastic, just a little tightening here and there, a couple of strategically placed shots, and she’d be ready to face the world with her new arrival.

The doctor was explaining to her all the benefits of the elective cesarean section. So much easier than years before, the doctor had said brightly. It would also mean she could decide on the child’s birthday. How about tomorrow morning—8 a.m. It was set. He continued reminding her of what they would need to bring. Eric, her husband, should bring some comfortable clothing, etc.

The nurse handed them a glossy sheet of paper describing the amenities. Only the best, it was a premier birthing facility, the best in Southern California. The room looked like a five-star hotel room. The penthouse of birthing rooms, it had everything a delivering mother and her guests could need including a refrigerator fully stocked with champagne, gourmet coffee and chocolates as well as an assortment of other goodies. And anything that wasn’t included could easily be obtained.

Eric wanted to ask, again, about the possible complications during the surgery. The doctor assured him that both baby and mother would be in capable hands. There was no need to worry. Would there be any pain? There maybe some initial discomfort, but after the epidural, it would be smooth sailing. She’d be awake during the procedure.

AWAKE!

Suddenly, she was filled with dread. She imagined them taking the baby out, innards exposed, ripped from the belly like the Alien in Aliens, the first one.

"You won’t be able to see anything. There’ll be a barrier so you won’t see the actual operation as the baby is born."

"Will we be able to hold him?" Eric asked.

"Sure, after we clean him up and check his vital signs, give him the once over."

He explained where the incision would be and how he would be careful to make it small. She felt queasy and the room felt warm.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"I’m fine," she replied.

But she couldn’t get the Aliens image out of her mind. She shook her head—she couldn’t believe everything she’d been willing to go through just to have a baby! She tried to erase the image from her mind, and then sighed with relief. Thank God it wouldn't be happening to her!

She looked at Sarah, her surrogate. "Are you sure, you’re up to this?"

"Ms. Carlyle I’ve done this so many times before. It’s an honor for me to help bring your son into the world."

Tracey Boone Swan is a writer and recent transplant to Southern California where she lives with her husband and young son. Contact Tracey.