3 Sign Me Up
Shortly after my return from Alaska, The Bulletin appeared in my mailbox, unsolicited. I glanced through it as I walked up the steps to my flat. Then I saw the headline on page three.
The universe had heard my discussions with Steve and my thoughts in Alaska — just as I always imagined it could when I was a child. What the universe then sent me was an advertisement. The universe (if not the subscriptions department of the Bulletin) provided me with a clear next step that both thrilled and terrified me. Getting pregnant inadvertently was one screwy thing. I had rolled those dice with Steve and failed. Making it happen was another.
I wanted to act. Of course I was afraid to act. Even the simple task of calling to find out more information on what I read in the paper, seemed too half-hearted and at the same time, like too much of a risk.
“I already know what I want to do. I’m just seeking others who want to do the same thing. I’m looking for a network and resources, “ I said on the phone, sounding surprisingly confident and certain. “Can you tell more about what I saw in the paper?” I asked.
“I’m a social worker,” the woman on the other end of the line said. “At 40 I decided I wanted to have a child. I was going to try having it on my own. I got pregnant, fell in love and married, as well as adopted a second child, roughly in that order. So I’ve faced single motherhood, insemination, infertility and adoption. I organized this group for women facing any and all.”
“Sign me up,” I said.