Making Way for Baby Anakin

I'm sitting with my laptop at J~'s kitchen table composing today's blog entry. Moments ago, B~'s ride arrived to take him to day camp, but before that, he paced the length of the kitchen and livingroom, and came up behind me as I wrote. "This is private," I said.

"I know," he replied, turning reluctantly back to his pacing. I moved on to email, but it was too late. He'd seen something.

"If you had a baby," B~ asked, "what would you name it?"

"That depends on who I had a baby with, because I would want to choose the name together."

"If you and Dad had a baby."

Months ago I asked J~ to have a conversation with B~ about this. I didn't want us to spring a pregnancy on him out of the blue. I also wanted him to know about my miscarriages, so that he would be aware that a pregnancy, in my case, wouldn't necessarily lead to a little brother or sister. As far as I knew, this conversation hasn't happened yet. I imagine J~ would explain that by saying the right moment hadn't presented itself.

Maybe this was the moment now, but I wasn't sure I was the right person to be having it. So I stalled again. "Well, then, it depends on if it was a girl or a boy."

"A boy," B~ said, still pacing.

He had me cornered. So I admitted: we've talked about the possibility of having a child, that we liked the idea of using J~'s middle name, his own father's name, if it were a boy. It's a name we both like.

"That's a stupid name."

"I'm sure we'd be willing to consider your ideas too," I laughed.

"Anakin." He said, smiling ever so slightly. What twelve-year-old boy doesn't love his Star Wars?

"I like it," I said. "It's a good name. But even if we didn't officially name him Anakin, you could call him that. Maybe it would catch on."

B~ smirked, indicating he found the compromise ever so slightly distasteful.

"How would you feel about that," I asked, "if we had a baby?"

"I think it would be cool."

"Well, it's something we've talked about. We might like to do it." I was keeping my voice carefully casual. But now I took a deep breath, continued slowly. "Only we don't know yet if it would work because I was pregnant twice last year and I had miscarriages both times. Do you know what that is?" He did. And he stopped pacing to nod and confirm. "So even if I did get pregnant," I continued, "it might not work.

"I've heard that there are things doctors can do to help that."

"Yes, some women find that it helps, but it doesn't work for everyone. It can be very involved. There are some things I wouldn't want to do."

"Well if you can't get pregnant, why don't you adopt?"

"That's a possibility," I said. "But let's wait until I move in before we make any decisions."

He had resumed his pacing, begun making a passionate case for adoption, when his ride arrived.

Life goes on.