Chapter 17:The playgrounds

―Amelia? Answer me, damn it.‖

―Yes.‖ I could hardly get the word out.

―Speak up, I can't hear you.‖

I sobbed a couple of times.

―What's the matter with you?‖

I explained.

―I'm sorry about that. I suppose it wasn't meant to be; God's will and all that stuff.‖

There was a pause. I waited for what I knew was coming. ―Amelia, we don't have any

electricity.‖

The only time I ever heard from him was when he wanted something, so I wasn't

surprised by his ‗problem;' it was always money for some damn thing. I was on auto

pilot, asked him how much he needed and hung up. I didn't want to bring up Adam's

request with Jack, so the next day I closed out an old savings account I'd had for ages.

There was $800.00 in it. I wired the full amount to Adam and followed up with a phone

call.

―I've sent the money, Adam. don't call anytime soon. We're raising our own family, and

all of us are very upset from losing the baby.‖ I spoke quietly, hardly having enough

energy to speak to anyone let alone Adam. The last thing I wanted was more abuse or a

fight. ―We can't raise your family. Just leave us alone. Stop having babies; you are

incapable of looking after those you have.‖

He cursed me and hung up. There was no thank you for the $800 I sent him. Good

riddance.

Jack was really good. Over the years, he did extensive research looking for places where

Adam could get a good job; where it would be a good environment to raise the children

and an inexpensive place to live. It didn't matter what Jack came up with, or what advice

we gave him, he was either above it, it wouldn't work for him, or he'd tried it before. He

never accepted any advice. All he wanted was a free ride and money just handed to him.

We wouldn't have a lot of contact with him for the next few years, and I wouldn't meet

his last three kids until the next disaster erupted, which was inevitable, of course.

So, he never called, and I certainly wasn't about to be the one to pick up the phone and

call him. Besides, I was very focused on my infertility treatments, and they took almost

all of my commitment and energy to keep to the demanding and risky regime necessary

for any chance of my getting pregnant again. And of course, more important of all taking

care of my baby girl during all of this. I have to admit that I was rather peeved more than

a couple of times when the thought crossed my mind that not once did Adam call to see

how I was doing, or if I was pregnant yet, nothing. He knew what it meant to me about

having another child. Despite knowing who he was and what he was like, I couldn't help

feeling sad and hurt when he never called to inquire. It would have meant a lot to me, if

he had shown some empathy.

Eventually, we heard through the family that he was homeless again. There were seven

children now; all of them, along with Susan and Adam, living in a van he was driving. I can't imagine how horrible that must have been. He home-schooled the children and

always had. It wasn't a good situation, how could it be with Adam's control issues. The

children had no social life, they had no friends, and they didn't go out to play whether it

was outside in front of their house, or going to the playground. They didn't go to

museums and beaches. It was so sad.

―Why don't you let the children go out to play, or be with other children, Adam?‖ I asked

once.

―They have each other. They don't need anyone else, or be in a place where they would

be exposed to germs. The playgrounds, parks and schools are teeming with them.‖

I could think of a thousand reasons about what Adam was saying was not only wrong, but

tragically, he was denying his children the opportunity of developing a normal and

successful life in their community. I knew it was hopeless to argue, but...

―For God sake, Adam, I hate to say it, but if this is what you truly believe then I have to

wonder about your sanity and...‖

―My sanity! My sanity! Listen, you bitch, you don't say that to me! You hear me? I'll tell

you who's crazy. You! I'll raise my kids anyway I want. They will do exactly what I tell

them to do, and they'll be all the better...‖

―Stop screaming, Adam!‖ I shouted. I was really angry now. In that moment, I wished

my brother would disappear from the face of the earth. ―You selfish, conceited loser, the

way you are raising those children is going to screw them up for the rest of their lives.

They will be so incredibly maladjusted that they won't know how to fit into their

communities. It'll be all struggle, courts, prisons or mental institutions that will be the

story of their lives after you are done with them.‖

―Bitch!‖ he screamed. Then he was gone, leaving me with a shrill ringing in my ears.

Unfortunately, these words would soon have a prophetic authenticity to them. The courts,

prisons and psychological inquiry were to become a reality in the lives of the Allerton

family.

I washed my hands of him, or so I thought. Oh, how so naive I would prove to be yet

again.

• • •

After years of in vitro and nine surgical procedures, I finally succeeded in getting

pregnant. Surgery, of course, carries with it risks and often friends and family would ask,

―Why are you doing this, risking your life? You have Abbey to take care of.‖

While it is not up to anybody to tell me that I should be satisfied and responsible, their

comments caused me to consider whether or not there was an ethical dilemma I had not

faced up to. After all, if the worst happened and I died Abbey would be left without her

mother. I think it was shortly after I miscarried, Abbey was three at the time and playing

with her dolls on the couch, when I decided to talk with her.

―Darling, as you know, mummy lost the little baby growing in her not long ago, and I

know that was a really, really sad time for all of us.‖ Abbey nodded. ―I have something very important to ask you. You know how much it means to me to have another baby, a

little sister or brother for you to play and grow up with, too, don't you?‖

―Yes.‖

She looked so sweet and vulnerable. My eyes moistened, and my heart felt like it was

going to explode with the love I felt for her. ―I love you, Abbey; I don't want to ever hurt

you.‖

―What's the matter, Mummy? I love you and daddy, too.‖ She was hugging her favorite

doll, and her beautiful brown eyes big like saucers, were looking right into mine. I leaned

over and kissed her forehead.

―It's just that sometimes I worry you might not think mummy loves you enough because

she is trying so hard to have another baby. Do you ever think that?‖

Abbey looked puzzled. Her frowning face seemed to be saying what a stupid question.

―What?‖

―Abbey, do you want me to keep trying to have another baby?‖

Her face broke out into a huge smile. ―Oh, yes, mummy, of course I do. It would be such

fun. I could bath him and feed him and...‖

I laughed, relieved. ―Abbey, our baby could be a girl. We can't know what it will be yet.‖

―I know. It will be a boy.‖

I couldn't know then that Abbey would be proven right. It didn't really matter, though, I

just wanted a baby and the odds for that that happening were not good.

Months later I was at my doctor's clinic and on my eighth in vitro fertilization. With the

miscarriage and the failures of getting pregnant weighing heavily on my mind, depression

was becoming a frequent visitor. Each visit to the clinic seemed to last longer than the

previous one. My doctor was worried.

―You know what, Amelia; we're not doing this anymore,‖ Dr. Rasheed said. ―There is

only so much medication we can give you. As women age, starting at the age of 35, so do

their eggs.‖

To say I was stunned would be putting it mildly. ―Doctor, there are women out there

older than me who are having children.‖

―True. But, you don't know how those women became pregnant, there are so many ways;

and you having a uterine abnormality doesn't help‖.

I knew he was right, but I couldn't bear the thought of giving up. ―So, that's it, there is

nothing I can do. I would do anything for one more try?‖

A Donor, someone else's egg in my body, no way. ―I can't do that. My baby has to come

from me. A baby from a Donor would not be mine.‖ I could feel my heart racing. I

wanted to cry as I began to realize that any hope of having another child of my own was

over.

―No, it doesn't have to be like that, Amelia. We have come a long way with in the

reproductive sciences. These days, we can take DNA out of the good part of your egg and inject it into the Donor's eggs.‖ The procedure is called ―cytoplasmic transfer‖ and the

baby would be genetically yours, and it would be fantastic if you had a family member,

especially a sister.