Chapter 174: Nine Beginnings

Alexander had discovered that making a baby involved a surprising amount of waiting.

Waiting for appointments.

Waiting for screening.

Waiting for the egg donor’s cycle and for medications to do what they were supposed to do.

Then, after all of that, waiting for eggs.

At least the last part had finally arrived.

The fertility center called early that morning to let them know the retrieval had been completed successfully.

Alexander was halfway through reviewing an estimate for the workshop when his phone rang. He answered immediately.

Giovanni, sitting across from him with his own laptop, looked up just as quickly.

"Yes?"

Alexander listened, then reached for a pen.

Giovanni closed his laptop.

Apparently, Mercer Group could survive without him for the next three minutes.

The coordinator explained that the donor was recovering well and that the retrieval had produced fourteen eggs.

Fourteen.

Alexander wrote the number down.

"Is that good?"

The coordinator gave the medically responsible answer. It was a promising number, but the outcome depended on how many eggs were mature and suitable for fertilization.

Of course.

More waiting.

Alexander thanked her and ended the call.

Giovanni immediately asked, "How many?"

"Fourteen."

"Good."

"Potentially good."

Giovanni looked at him.

"You’ve been spending too much time with doctors."

"They’ve successfully destroyed my ability to celebrate anything before the next laboratory report."

"That seems healthy."

"Apparently."

Alexander looked down at the number he’d written.

14.

It seemed strange that something so important could fit into two digits.

"We’ll know how many are mature later."

"And then they divide them?"

"If there are enough."

That had been their plan. They would divide the mature eggs as evenly as practical between them. One group would be fertilized using Alexander’s preserved sperm, the other with Giovanni’s.

They’d chosen the same donor so that if everything eventually worked, their biological children could share that connection even with different fathers.

Giovanni glanced at the paper.

"Fourteen."

"Yes."

"If all fourteen are mature, seven each."

"Don’t start counting children."

"I wasn’t."

"You were."

"I was counting eggs."

"That’s how it starts."

Giovanni smiled.

Alexander returned to his estimate.

Or attempted to.

Several minutes later, he checked his phone.

Nothing.

Giovanni finally said, "They’ll call."

"I know."

"Looking at your phone won’t make embryology happen faster."

Alexander slowly raised his eyes.

"That’s an annoyingly sensible thing to say for someone who hasn’t touched his laptop since the call."

Giovanni looked down.

His laptop screen had gone dark.

Neither of them said anything.

Alexander smiled.

"Thought so."

Twelve were mature.

That was the next number.

12.

Six eggs were allocated to Alexander.

Six to Giovanni.

The laboratory planned to fertilize them that afternoon.

This led Alexander to discover another uncomfortable fact about assisted reproduction.

Once someone told you that twelve human eggs were currently sitting in a laboratory waiting to meet your sperm, concentrating on normal work became surprisingly difficult.

He lasted until lunch.

Then he gave up.

Giovanni apparently had similar problems because he called at twelve seventeen.

Alexander answered.

"You’re supposed to be working."

"So are you."

"I am."

"Liar."

Alexander looked at the architectural plans open on his desk.

Technically, they were work.

He just hadn’t absorbed a single line in the past fifteen minutes.

"Fine. Have they called?"

"No."

"Good."

Alexander frowned.

"Why is that good?"

"Because they told us tomorrow morning."

"Then why did you ask?"

There was a pause.

"I wanted to make sure."

Alexander laughed.

Apparently, neither of them was handling this particularly well.

"They might not all fertilize."

"I know."

"And some that do might not keep developing."

"I know that too."

Alexander fell silent.

Giovanni did the same.

Knowing all of that didn’t seem to help.

Because somewhere inside that building were six eggs allocated to Alexander and another six to Giovanni.

By tomorrow morning, some of them might have successfully fertilized.

Alexander knew better than to get ahead of himself.

His heart apparently hadn’t received the same medical briefing.

The embryologist called at eight forty-three the following morning.

Alexander knew the exact time because he’d been staring at the clock since eight.

He answered before the second ring.

"Mr. Vance?"

"Yes."

"We have your fertilization report."

Alexander stood.

He had no idea why.

Apparently, his legs believed important fertility news should be received vertically.

Across the room, Elias glanced up from the paperwork he’d brought in.

Alexander pointed toward the door.

Elias looked confused.

Alexander pointed again.

His driver wisely left.

The embryologist began explaining.

Of Alexander’s six mature eggs, five had fertilized normally.

Alexander stopped moving.

Five.

"And Mr. Mercer’s?"

He listened.

Four.

Four of Giovanni’s six had fertilized normally.

Nine altogether.

Alexander slowly sat back down.

Nine.

There were nine.

The embryologist explained that they would now culture and monitor the embryos over the next few days. Some might continue developing normally. Others might stop.

They would receive updates.

"Is that good?" Alexander asked.

He was beginning to hate that question.

The embryologist called the result encouraging but reminded him that embryo development over the next several days would determine how many eventually became suitable for cryopreservation.

Alexander thanked her.

Then he remained sitting there for several seconds after the call ended.

Five.

Four.

Nine.

His phone was still in his hand.

He called Giovanni.

The line connected almost immediately.

"Well?"

No greeting.

Alexander smiled.

"Good morning to you too."

"Alex."

"Five of mine fertilized."

Silence.

"And yours..."

Alexander paused just long enough to be irritating.

"Four."

Giovanni didn’t speak.

Alexander’s smile faded.

"Gio?"

"I’m here."

"Four fertilized normally."

"I heard you."

Alexander leaned back.

He’d been thinking about the total.

Giovanni apparently wasn’t.

"You have four embryos developing."

The words felt different when Alexander said them that way.

Giovanni released a slow breath.

"So do you."

"Five."

"Don’t brag."

Alexander laughed before he could stop himself.

There it was.

Of course Giovanni would find a way.

"You were the one bragging about your swimmers."

"My swimmers performed perfectly well."

"Mine apparently swam faster."

"That isn’t how fertilization works."

"Interesting. Suddenly laboratory results shouldn’t be used competitively?"

Giovanni went quiet.

Then Alexander heard him laugh.

It wasn’t particularly loud.

But it helped.

When the call ended, Alexander looked down at the number he’d written beside the others.

Fourteen retrieved.

Twelve mature.

Nine fertilized.

The numbers kept getting smaller.

The clinic had warned them that they probably would.

But this one felt different.

Nine embryos were developing in a laboratory because he and Giovanni had decided they wanted a family together.

Not children yet.

Not guarantees.

Just beginnings.

Nine of them.