paper. It’s much more difficult in real life when a child misses her mommy and doesn’t understand why she can’t see her for long stretches of time.
I make a mental note to fill my parents in on the entire situation. Not that they’d say anything purposely to hurt anyone, but even innocent questions during this uncertain time could cause both Juliana and Rod unnecessary pain. Plus, my parents are so soft-hearted, they’d be crushed if they learned they’d said the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Another part of me is curious what Rod thinks about being fully responsible for Isa. In the back of his mind, he’s probably thinking it’s the simplest solution for a temporary problem. But if anything were to happen to Juliana before a successful transplant, that interim arrangement becomes a permanent way of life. For all intents and purposes, Rod would become Isa’s father. I’m not convinced he’s fully realized the potential ramifications yet.
“Rod, the father. Even though you told me this earlier, I still can’t picture it, man. You’re a great uncle, but taking on the role of daddy doesn’t quite fit your style, does it? Maybe you should let Daisy take Isa instead. There’s no telling what you’d teach that poor little girl. The best and worst pickup lines in the world. Where shady men hang out and how to spot them. How to get rid of a one-night stand. Those skills aren’t exactly kid friendly. Maybe save those for when she’s an older teenager.” Kevin and Tracy chuckle on either side of me. Normally, I’d join them in the Rod roast, but this hits a little too close to home today.
“Aren’t you just a hilarious fucker? First, as soon as Juliana is well, she’ll take the guardianship back, so technically I won’t have time to be a father officially. Second, this arrangement will only last a few months, at the most, so my life won’t actually change that much. I babysit for Jules all the time as it is. Third, Juliana won’t be away the entire time. Just like the over the past couple of months, she’ll be in and out of the hospital. We’ll manage the same way we always have. We’ll call her every day and visit her when we’re allowed. Isa will spend the night with Uncle Rod for an extended time, but her mother isn’t abandoning her forever.” His words are resolute, but his expression tells another story.
“Rod, as much as I hate to say this, you have to consider the alternatives. I was only joking just now about you not being father material. Juliana didn’t make this decision lightly. She did it so she’d have peace of mind if her condition takes a turn for the worse and she can’t recover, but she also trusts you implicitly. Don’t tell Juliana you’re already looking forward to the day you can give Isa back to her and move on with your life. That sounds as though her daughter is cramping your style. She needs more support now than she’s ever needed before.” Kevin leans on the bar, stressing his point to Rod. “You have to face reality with this, man.”
Kevin could easily give me the same advice right now. I’m pretending I didn’t receive a phone call that changed my life in a split second, in more ways than one. I’m a match for Juliana. My bone marrow could save her life and end her battle with this disease for good. But I’m pregnant with her niece or nephew, so she can’t have the transplant until the baby is born without finding another match. She’s more likely to win the lottery than she is to find a second match so soon.
What if she doesn’t live long enough for the baby to arrive? What if she dies before then because she doesn’t receive the healthy bone marrow? Every day until my delivery date, she must continue the grueling chemotherapy treatment that leaves her sick, makes her hair fall out, and zaps her energy after the simplest task. She’s losing precious time with her daughter and second guessing every medical decision she makes. I can’t begin to imagine the stress she’s under.
Or how she’d feel knowing one word from me could alleviate all of it.
If I wasn’t pregnant, we would prepare for a life-changing—or, I should say, lifesaving—event for her and Isa. We could throw a pre-transplant party and invite all our friends. Juliana wouldn’t have to sign over custody of her